I have a lot of cook books. There are many that are little more than recipe collections, that outside of the recipe itself, provide little more insight than, "we used to love these on summer afternoons" or "my brother got in so much trouble trying to make these himself" or maybe, "my sister used to squeal on me when I would try to make these myself."
Most of the cook books that I read and use on a regular basis are more concerned with theory. Several are dedicated to the science of how food works. In those, the majority of the recipes exist purely to demonstrate a particular theory or theories. And then some are non-fictional books written by or about chefs. And when you read enough books and articles by chefs that consistantly refer to a particular text, you know it's going to be good. And when, in looking for books on something completely unrelated, you run across one of these books, you know you have to buy it. Right now. No, don't worry about how much money you have in checking, you have a credit card too. This one is worth it.
I picked up Culinary Artistry by Andrew Dornenburg and Karen Page, and I was not disappointed. In fact, I have been geeking out with this book since I bought it on Saturday. It's certainly not for the faint of heart. In fact, I would guess that most home cooks would probably feel a little alienated reading it. Imagine this: you have a panel of perhaps 2 to 3 dozen brilliant chefs, names that culinary students are required in school to learn, and a mediator in the middle directing conversation. You are in the audience, watching as a topic is presented, and a handful of the chefs in the panel discuss various theories and concepts, often disagreeing but never fighting. As one chef discusses her dislike of tall dishes, another may state how he occassionally likes to add a little extra height, but disdains elements that don't belong, such as a single rosemary sprig standing up in the middle of the plate.
I'm sure my wife grew tired of me within the first few minutes of my cracking open this book. Every other paragraph seem to say to me, "yeah brother, I know what you're talking about". I would read an entire paragraph to her, basking in its profundity, and seconds later have yet another paragraph to read aloud. The side margins are littered with quotes from famous chefs, both alive and dead. I would often almost get frustrated at the sheer volume of information that was available on a single page, that I couldn't cram all into my brain that very second.
As I read this book, I discovered something truly of value, possibly more than the panel of chefs. There are pages and pages of reference material, ranging from an index of ingredients and what other ingredients are perfect matches, to sample menus, accompanied by brief overviews from the chefs who constructed them. And yes, there are recipes. I practically drooled on myself at the mere mention of Duck Prosciutto. And when I saw the recipe, in all its simplistic glory, I would have grabbed my car keys to run down to the store that minute to buy duck breast, had it not been 11 o'clock at night.
If you're just looking to feed your family at dinnertime, this book is probably not for you. Even if you're planning a special dinner for your significant other, a one-time meal that you want to be truly special, this book is probably not for you. But if you're truly passionate about food, if the latest Anthony Bourdain or Jeffery Steingarten is far more exciting to you than the latest Michael Critchen or Steven King, then this book is for you. If your biggest culinary aspiration involves flipping burgers, then feel free to go on with your deprived palate. But if you can't watch Emeril Live without screaming at the TV about how it's not a real bechamel if you use heavy cream, if you run your own high-class restaurant or have plans to do so, then you need to buy this book right now.
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
Mango Chicken Curry
It was a challenge that I had left for myself. Sunday night, I moved a large chicken breast from the freezer to the fridge, to thaw. I didn't know what I was going to use it for. I only knew that I was going to use it somehow. I had 24 hours to figure out how. I of course promptly forgot about it.
Monday night came and I began to get a wee bit peckish. The moment I opened the fridge, I saw it. Sitting on the bottom shelf (one would be foolish to put raw meat any higher) in its polypropelene zip top bag, inside a Pyrex dish (security against leaks) was a large chicken breast. It needed to be cooked. And I was the man for the job. Unfortunately, I was also the unprepared man for the job.
Having put a frying pan (not non-stick) on medium-high heat, I quickly searched the fridge, and found a mango. Mango... Maaaannnngooo... Er. Sorry. Anyway, I peeled, cored and sliced the mango into thin strips, and then set them aside. I took the chicken breast and did likewise. I put the chicken strips into a bowl and tossed with just enough peanut oil to coat, a large pinch of salt, a generous sprinkling of Madras curry powder and a splash of Worcestershire sauce (why not?).
I laid the chicken into the frying pan as straight as possible and browned on both sides. Cooking through was not a big deal, partially because the strips were so thin. With the chicken properly cooked, I moved it to a plate and deglazed the pan with a small can (5.6oz) of coconut milk. This is why you don't want to use a non-stick pan. With non-stick, there would be nothing there to deglaze. I added the mango slices and let the liquid reduce a little. While it was reducing, I added a couple of small handfulls of roasted salted cashews. Salted was nice, because the mango and coconut milk had no seasoning of their own. When it looked like the liquid had tightened up significantly, I added the chicken back to the pan and tossed to coat. I let the liquid tighten up a little more, and then served.
Now, anyone that's read a few of my posts knows that I like my food hot. So you probably wouldn't be surprised to know that I used hot curry powder. At least, it was labelled hot. But something about either the mango or the coconut milk really smoothed out the heat a lot, so that it had a much more mild kick. It was actually just about perfect. In fact, I'm really starting to like this Madras stuff. The aroma is smooth, almost sweet. It almost makes other curries I've had in the past seem harsh in comparison. I'm going to have to start using this stuff more often.
Monday night came and I began to get a wee bit peckish. The moment I opened the fridge, I saw it. Sitting on the bottom shelf (one would be foolish to put raw meat any higher) in its polypropelene zip top bag, inside a Pyrex dish (security against leaks) was a large chicken breast. It needed to be cooked. And I was the man for the job. Unfortunately, I was also the unprepared man for the job.
Having put a frying pan (not non-stick) on medium-high heat, I quickly searched the fridge, and found a mango. Mango... Maaaannnngooo... Er. Sorry. Anyway, I peeled, cored and sliced the mango into thin strips, and then set them aside. I took the chicken breast and did likewise. I put the chicken strips into a bowl and tossed with just enough peanut oil to coat, a large pinch of salt, a generous sprinkling of Madras curry powder and a splash of Worcestershire sauce (why not?).
I laid the chicken into the frying pan as straight as possible and browned on both sides. Cooking through was not a big deal, partially because the strips were so thin. With the chicken properly cooked, I moved it to a plate and deglazed the pan with a small can (5.6oz) of coconut milk. This is why you don't want to use a non-stick pan. With non-stick, there would be nothing there to deglaze. I added the mango slices and let the liquid reduce a little. While it was reducing, I added a couple of small handfulls of roasted salted cashews. Salted was nice, because the mango and coconut milk had no seasoning of their own. When it looked like the liquid had tightened up significantly, I added the chicken back to the pan and tossed to coat. I let the liquid tighten up a little more, and then served.
Now, anyone that's read a few of my posts knows that I like my food hot. So you probably wouldn't be surprised to know that I used hot curry powder. At least, it was labelled hot. But something about either the mango or the coconut milk really smoothed out the heat a lot, so that it had a much more mild kick. It was actually just about perfect. In fact, I'm really starting to like this Madras stuff. The aroma is smooth, almost sweet. It almost makes other curries I've had in the past seem harsh in comparison. I'm going to have to start using this stuff more often.
Monday, June 19, 2006
Haute Pizza
We went to visit my in-laws yesterday. On the way home, I was feeling pretty hungry. I was ever so tempted to stop by Pizza Hut on the way home and pick up a pepperoni pizza. It's a weakness of mine. I don't know what they do to the pepperoni to make it all crispy, but I love it. But I couldn't bring myself to do it. I didn't want to spend the time, the money, etc. But I really wanted pepperoni pizza.
Now, I grew up on French bread pizza. Grab a big old loaf from the store, cut it in half or thirds, add some sauce and toppings, and toss in the oven. But we had no French bread. Normally in such a situation, I would improvise and just use regular sliced bread. Alas, we were out of that too. What to do? And then I realized: we had a bad of whole wheat ciabatta rolls in the freezer!
When we got home, we turned on the oven to 450F, pulled a couple of rolls out of the freezer and put them on the table to thaw while we prepped the rest of the ingredients. And of course, by ingredients, I mostly mean the cheese. We pulled a fresh new jar of organic pasta sauce out of the pantry, and my ever-present bag of pepperoni from the fridge. But when I looked at our cheese situation, there was a problem. My unopened bag of fresh mozarella wasn't looking so good, so I tossed it. We had cheddar, but I was looking for something a little more white.
Further reconnaissance yielded fontina and Lincolnshire poacher in FoodSaver bags, and a small wheel of smoked gouda. Perfect! I probably grated about equal parts of each one, just enough to cover four halved ciabatta rolls. Speaking of the rolls, they were just about thawed enough to cut in half. We halved 'em, sauced 'em, cheesed 'em, and pepperonied them. We put them on a sheet pan and put them in the oven, pausing to switch it over to broiler mode. That was my strategy, to get that pepperoni crispy.
In retrospect, I should have just left it in oven mode for long enough to melt the cheese, before setting it to broil. I pulled the pizzas when the corners were just starting to pick up a little char. Not enough to ruin it of course, just enough to add a little flavor. Much to my delight, some of the pepperonis actually picked up a little crisp! I should have added more pepperoni, though.
Halfway through the pizza, I realized that the only ingredient that may be considered a lower quality was the pepperoni. I had just created haute pizza! Well, okay, maybe not so much. But it really was pretty good.
Now, I grew up on French bread pizza. Grab a big old loaf from the store, cut it in half or thirds, add some sauce and toppings, and toss in the oven. But we had no French bread. Normally in such a situation, I would improvise and just use regular sliced bread. Alas, we were out of that too. What to do? And then I realized: we had a bad of whole wheat ciabatta rolls in the freezer!
When we got home, we turned on the oven to 450F, pulled a couple of rolls out of the freezer and put them on the table to thaw while we prepped the rest of the ingredients. And of course, by ingredients, I mostly mean the cheese. We pulled a fresh new jar of organic pasta sauce out of the pantry, and my ever-present bag of pepperoni from the fridge. But when I looked at our cheese situation, there was a problem. My unopened bag of fresh mozarella wasn't looking so good, so I tossed it. We had cheddar, but I was looking for something a little more white.
Further reconnaissance yielded fontina and Lincolnshire poacher in FoodSaver bags, and a small wheel of smoked gouda. Perfect! I probably grated about equal parts of each one, just enough to cover four halved ciabatta rolls. Speaking of the rolls, they were just about thawed enough to cut in half. We halved 'em, sauced 'em, cheesed 'em, and pepperonied them. We put them on a sheet pan and put them in the oven, pausing to switch it over to broiler mode. That was my strategy, to get that pepperoni crispy.
In retrospect, I should have just left it in oven mode for long enough to melt the cheese, before setting it to broil. I pulled the pizzas when the corners were just starting to pick up a little char. Not enough to ruin it of course, just enough to add a little flavor. Much to my delight, some of the pepperonis actually picked up a little crisp! I should have added more pepperoni, though.
Halfway through the pizza, I realized that the only ingredient that may be considered a lower quality was the pepperoni. I had just created haute pizza! Well, okay, maybe not so much. But it really was pretty good.
Sunday, June 18, 2006
Inter-LUG BBQ
Last night we had a BBQ with a few of the Linux Users Groups (LUG) in the area. It was potluck style, so we were well-stocked with a variety of chips, pasta salads and drinks. For my part, I brought a fine selelection of Tabasco sauces (regular, jalapeno, garlic, chipotle, habanero and of course, Tabasco soy sauce.
I also brought a couple of flank steaks, because it's not very often one has enough people in attendance to help eat a whole flank steak, much less the second one that usually comes with it. And you know, I just love flank steak. It's my absolute favorite cut of beef. I love the flavor, and I also really like the cut itself. It's a flat piece of meat with all of the grains running in the same direction. This means that if you cut it one way, you get nothing but shoe leather. But if you cut it in another direction, it's tender, juicy and almost just falls apart in your mouth.
When we cooked flank steak in school, our teachers taught us the following words: big smile, small slice. The idea is that when a customer wants a big old slice of flank steak (and who wouldn't?), we engage them in conversation and distract them while we cut a little thin slice, on the bias so that it looks bigger. Yeah, I didn't do that. I dispensed with the big smile, small slice and just made sure to cut against the grain and encourage everyone to take some. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me get you some recipes first, since I promised everyone there that I would post them.
Pineaple Soy Flank Steak Marinade
20oz pineapple chunks
1/4 c lite soy sauce
1 1/2 tsp chipotle
splash Worcestershire
1 Tbsp sesame oil
Curry Flank Steak Marinade
2 (5.6oz) cans coconut milk
2 Tbsp curry paste
1 tsp curry powder
1 Tbsp sesame oil
Same thing with both, just mix 'em up and toss 'em in a zip top bag with a flank steak. Let marinate overnight. Now, you may have noticed a serious lack of salt here. There's two reasons for this. First of all, soy sauce has a lot of sodium. Even lite soy sauce, which has significantly less, still has a lot of sodium. The curry paste had a little too. Second reason: I have high blood pressure. I have to go easy on the salt. Plus, spices like curry are a good way to add seasoning without needing to add salt too. If you like, you can add a tablespoon or two of salt to either marinade.
When the time comes, toss the steaks on a hot grill and get some grill marks on 'em. Now, the nice thing about flank steak is, it actually tastes better rare or medium rare. Even to me! But I wasn't sure how these people would take to that much red, so I went almost medium. This was easy, because the grill wasn't as hot as we'd hoped, so it took longer to cook. No crust, but it was also cooked pretty evenly. It went over pretty well too. My favorite was the pineapple soy, but my wife loved the curry one.
We had some other killer foods too. Gabe brought some chicken kebabs that were pretty awesome. I forget who brought the hand-rolled sausages, but I would love a copy of the recipe. In addition to the burgers (which I had one of) and hot dogs, there were also things like chicken burgers and turkey burgers. Jayce brought a macaroni salad that was pretty good, though I think I liked the previous version of it that we had at another function. I'm kicking myself for forgetting to get a rice krispy treat. Somebody brought a lot of terra chips. I love terra chips. And somebody brought a lot of habanero chips too. And a kid tried one, and suffered greatly for his efforts.
I spent most of the night hanging out with Lars and his wife. Lars reminded me of a joke, about a guy who died and went to heaven. A guy in front of him was refused passage to heaven because he loved money so much, he married a girl named Penny. The next guy was refused because he loved wine so much, he married a girl named Sherry. That was when the guy turned to his wife and said, "we'd better get out of here, Vanna." Okay, so that was kind of lame. But it does bring me to a point. After all my years of computer networking, I married a girl named Nat. You geeks out there are either laughing or groaning, or both.
Speaking of geeks, you know you're at a geek BBQ when the music provided is coming off of a notebook running Ubuntu Linux. Download it, install it, be happy like me. Yeah, that was my notebook. But the sound system wasn't mine. It was provided courtesy my good friend Troy, who is a killer DJ. You should call him and hire him for your next event. He's also a killer web designer, and runs a web hosting company. His number's on the site.
All in all, it was a good time. I met a lot of geeks that I'd only known previously from the Utah Open Source Planet. Hey all! It was good to meet you all.
Update: It was Andrew that did the sausages. I was thinking it might be, but I wasn't sure. I have a horrible memory. I'm hoping he'll forgive my forgetfulness and let me see a copy of the recipe.
I also brought a couple of flank steaks, because it's not very often one has enough people in attendance to help eat a whole flank steak, much less the second one that usually comes with it. And you know, I just love flank steak. It's my absolute favorite cut of beef. I love the flavor, and I also really like the cut itself. It's a flat piece of meat with all of the grains running in the same direction. This means that if you cut it one way, you get nothing but shoe leather. But if you cut it in another direction, it's tender, juicy and almost just falls apart in your mouth.
When we cooked flank steak in school, our teachers taught us the following words: big smile, small slice. The idea is that when a customer wants a big old slice of flank steak (and who wouldn't?), we engage them in conversation and distract them while we cut a little thin slice, on the bias so that it looks bigger. Yeah, I didn't do that. I dispensed with the big smile, small slice and just made sure to cut against the grain and encourage everyone to take some. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me get you some recipes first, since I promised everyone there that I would post them.
Pineaple Soy Flank Steak Marinade
20oz pineapple chunks
1/4 c lite soy sauce
1 1/2 tsp chipotle
splash Worcestershire
1 Tbsp sesame oil
Curry Flank Steak Marinade
2 (5.6oz) cans coconut milk
2 Tbsp curry paste
1 tsp curry powder
1 Tbsp sesame oil
Same thing with both, just mix 'em up and toss 'em in a zip top bag with a flank steak. Let marinate overnight. Now, you may have noticed a serious lack of salt here. There's two reasons for this. First of all, soy sauce has a lot of sodium. Even lite soy sauce, which has significantly less, still has a lot of sodium. The curry paste had a little too. Second reason: I have high blood pressure. I have to go easy on the salt. Plus, spices like curry are a good way to add seasoning without needing to add salt too. If you like, you can add a tablespoon or two of salt to either marinade.
When the time comes, toss the steaks on a hot grill and get some grill marks on 'em. Now, the nice thing about flank steak is, it actually tastes better rare or medium rare. Even to me! But I wasn't sure how these people would take to that much red, so I went almost medium. This was easy, because the grill wasn't as hot as we'd hoped, so it took longer to cook. No crust, but it was also cooked pretty evenly. It went over pretty well too. My favorite was the pineapple soy, but my wife loved the curry one.
We had some other killer foods too. Gabe brought some chicken kebabs that were pretty awesome. I forget who brought the hand-rolled sausages, but I would love a copy of the recipe. In addition to the burgers (which I had one of) and hot dogs, there were also things like chicken burgers and turkey burgers. Jayce brought a macaroni salad that was pretty good, though I think I liked the previous version of it that we had at another function. I'm kicking myself for forgetting to get a rice krispy treat. Somebody brought a lot of terra chips. I love terra chips. And somebody brought a lot of habanero chips too. And a kid tried one, and suffered greatly for his efforts.
I spent most of the night hanging out with Lars and his wife. Lars reminded me of a joke, about a guy who died and went to heaven. A guy in front of him was refused passage to heaven because he loved money so much, he married a girl named Penny. The next guy was refused because he loved wine so much, he married a girl named Sherry. That was when the guy turned to his wife and said, "we'd better get out of here, Vanna." Okay, so that was kind of lame. But it does bring me to a point. After all my years of computer networking, I married a girl named Nat. You geeks out there are either laughing or groaning, or both.
Speaking of geeks, you know you're at a geek BBQ when the music provided is coming off of a notebook running Ubuntu Linux. Download it, install it, be happy like me. Yeah, that was my notebook. But the sound system wasn't mine. It was provided courtesy my good friend Troy, who is a killer DJ. You should call him and hire him for your next event. He's also a killer web designer, and runs a web hosting company. His number's on the site.
All in all, it was a good time. I met a lot of geeks that I'd only known previously from the Utah Open Source Planet. Hey all! It was good to meet you all.
Update: It was Andrew that did the sausages. I was thinking it might be, but I wasn't sure. I have a horrible memory. I'm hoping he'll forgive my forgetfulness and let me see a copy of the recipe.
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
Utah Bloggers Conference
Last night Jayce^ and I attended the first semi-annual Utah Bloggers Conference. I wasn't sure what to expect. After all, blogging is nothing new. This is the sort of thing that I might have expected 3 or 4 years ago, when the word "blog" was said to be the biggest search word on the Internet. Still, free food and t-shirts were promised, Jayce^ offered to drive, and the wife was going to be at a friend's house, so why not?
I think more than just a couple of people were stymied by the food that was being laid out when we got there. A fine selection of CostCo veggies and sugary snacks (more snacks than veggies) were in the process of being unwrapped. Fortunately, pizza showed up as we were sitting down and networking with the other bloggers. I saw no fewer than three other members of the Utah Open Source Planet in attendance, and I wouldn't be surprised if more were there. Speaking of which, I'm amused to discover that the first rule of cheesecake (don't talk about cheesecake) is routinely ignored by those to which the advice is dispensed. Hey guys, you were warned.
Speaking of food, I need to get this off my chest right now. There are a few rules of salad that I need you people to always remember, and to teach your children, so that they may in turn teach their children. First of all, do not dress a salad until just before you serve it. This holds true especially for vinaigrettes, which hold acids that can and will wilt any and all greens they can. Do you want to serve wilty salad to your guests? Do you want to eat wilty salad? And this brings us to the second rule: never, ever, ever serve salad on top of hot foods. Ever! If they weren't wilted before you put them on the hot food, they certainly are now. I'm amazed every time I get talked into going to California Pizza Kitchen (Wolfgang Puck-wannabe extrordinaire) and look at what has eventually become my pizza of choice (with modifications): the Pear and Gorgonzola. This really was a brilliant idea. Caramelized pears, chopped hazelnuts, fontina, mozarella, and of course, Gorgonzola cheese. I always have them add the chipotle chicken from the pizza of the same name. The spice accents everything else, and makes it a truly great dish. I also always ask them to serve the salad on the side. This is the salad of field greens, tossed in the ever-so-original ranch dressing, which is meant to go on top of the pizza. What is wrong with these people? It makes me wish Gordon Ramsey would come and smack a few people upside the head. Repeatedly.
Back to the conference. I ended up sitting at a table with a couple of other foodies and a few other geeks. There was a panel of pros, including senatorial candidate Pete Ashdown. When I first met Pete several years ago, he was much different. His long hair only added to the fact that he looked like he was coming off an all-nighter. Knowing him to be a fellow geek, he probably was. Now he's some clean-cut politician, fighting for digital rights, among other things. I look forward to hearing from him again at tonight's PLUG meeting.
Several other geeks also graced the panel. I was amused to see Tim Stay, one of the founders of FreeServers. There were a couple of Phils there, notably Phil Burns and Phil Windley, both of whom I'd also heard of, if only briefly. Rounding out the panel was its only female member, Cyndi Tetro, whom I'd never heard of before. Still, despite her previous anonymity to me, she was every bit as engaging as the rest.
Apparently, they're planning on making the next conference in 6 months a little bigger event, more of an all-day thing. I'm a little more excited about it, now that I've seen how well this one went over. Then again, I think there's just something about eating pizza with my fellow geeks, with notebooks at hand, that just makes the world feel right.
I think more than just a couple of people were stymied by the food that was being laid out when we got there. A fine selection of CostCo veggies and sugary snacks (more snacks than veggies) were in the process of being unwrapped. Fortunately, pizza showed up as we were sitting down and networking with the other bloggers. I saw no fewer than three other members of the Utah Open Source Planet in attendance, and I wouldn't be surprised if more were there. Speaking of which, I'm amused to discover that the first rule of cheesecake (don't talk about cheesecake) is routinely ignored by those to which the advice is dispensed. Hey guys, you were warned.
Speaking of food, I need to get this off my chest right now. There are a few rules of salad that I need you people to always remember, and to teach your children, so that they may in turn teach their children. First of all, do not dress a salad until just before you serve it. This holds true especially for vinaigrettes, which hold acids that can and will wilt any and all greens they can. Do you want to serve wilty salad to your guests? Do you want to eat wilty salad? And this brings us to the second rule: never, ever, ever serve salad on top of hot foods. Ever! If they weren't wilted before you put them on the hot food, they certainly are now. I'm amazed every time I get talked into going to California Pizza Kitchen (Wolfgang Puck-wannabe extrordinaire) and look at what has eventually become my pizza of choice (with modifications): the Pear and Gorgonzola. This really was a brilliant idea. Caramelized pears, chopped hazelnuts, fontina, mozarella, and of course, Gorgonzola cheese. I always have them add the chipotle chicken from the pizza of the same name. The spice accents everything else, and makes it a truly great dish. I also always ask them to serve the salad on the side. This is the salad of field greens, tossed in the ever-so-original ranch dressing, which is meant to go on top of the pizza. What is wrong with these people? It makes me wish Gordon Ramsey would come and smack a few people upside the head. Repeatedly.
Back to the conference. I ended up sitting at a table with a couple of other foodies and a few other geeks. There was a panel of pros, including senatorial candidate Pete Ashdown. When I first met Pete several years ago, he was much different. His long hair only added to the fact that he looked like he was coming off an all-nighter. Knowing him to be a fellow geek, he probably was. Now he's some clean-cut politician, fighting for digital rights, among other things. I look forward to hearing from him again at tonight's PLUG meeting.
Several other geeks also graced the panel. I was amused to see Tim Stay, one of the founders of FreeServers. There were a couple of Phils there, notably Phil Burns and Phil Windley, both of whom I'd also heard of, if only briefly. Rounding out the panel was its only female member, Cyndi Tetro, whom I'd never heard of before. Still, despite her previous anonymity to me, she was every bit as engaging as the rest.
Apparently, they're planning on making the next conference in 6 months a little bigger event, more of an all-day thing. I'm a little more excited about it, now that I've seen how well this one went over. Then again, I think there's just something about eating pizza with my fellow geeks, with notebooks at hand, that just makes the world feel right.
Sunday, June 11, 2006
Absorption Pasta
I found this recipe on another cooking blog recently, and I've been dying to try it out. It's called absorption pasta. This truly is an oddity. Normally when one cooks pasta, they cook it in a lot of water, and then they drain the water away and add sauce and/or other accompanyments. This pasta isn't like that. It's more like risotto.
Now, normally when one makes rice, they add a lot of water, tightly cover, and let it cook slowly, while never ever stirring. When it's finished, it should be fluffed as carefully as possible, and never stirred. Risotto is different. It uses a different rice, in fact. It uses a medium grain rice, rather than the long-grain that most Americans are used to. Basically, as the rice is cooking, one adds hot stock and stirs the rice constantly, which causes starch granules to rub off the rice and join into the liquid, which actually creates a sauce.
Absorption pasta is like that. To start, I added a wee bit of olive oil to a pan, and a large clove of garlic, minced. I let it cook a little over medium heat, and added a couple of handfuls of egg noodles (because that's what I had). I stirred a little in an attempt to coat the pasta, gave up, and added a bit of hot stock. I also added a couple of pinches of Kosher salt. Now, the recipe I went from said to add just enough stock to cover. Well, I didn't quite cover it with the stock, but I came close. I put the cover on the pan and let it cook over medium low for a couple of minutes, before uncovering and giving it a stir. After stirring for a minute, I covered again and let it sit. I repeated a couple of times, and eventually dispensed with the cover. After a while, when pasta was almost cooked, I added just a little more stock. All in all, it was probably a little more than a cup. As the pasta cooked, some of the water from the stock would evaporate, and some of the starch would rub off into the remaining liquid. Eventually what I was left with was a pasta covered in a silky, self-made chickeny sauce. I sprinkled with a little grated Parmesian and some ground cacao nibs, just like in the article I stole the rest of the recipe from. You'd be surprised how good that is.
I don't know if I'm going to cook my pasta like that every time now, like the woman that writes Chocolate and Zucchini suggested, but I am going to try more variations. I have a few sun-dried tomatoes that I'm thinking about adding, and maybe some kind of chile sauce. Not too much, just enough for flavor.
Now, normally when one makes rice, they add a lot of water, tightly cover, and let it cook slowly, while never ever stirring. When it's finished, it should be fluffed as carefully as possible, and never stirred. Risotto is different. It uses a different rice, in fact. It uses a medium grain rice, rather than the long-grain that most Americans are used to. Basically, as the rice is cooking, one adds hot stock and stirs the rice constantly, which causes starch granules to rub off the rice and join into the liquid, which actually creates a sauce.
Absorption pasta is like that. To start, I added a wee bit of olive oil to a pan, and a large clove of garlic, minced. I let it cook a little over medium heat, and added a couple of handfuls of egg noodles (because that's what I had). I stirred a little in an attempt to coat the pasta, gave up, and added a bit of hot stock. I also added a couple of pinches of Kosher salt. Now, the recipe I went from said to add just enough stock to cover. Well, I didn't quite cover it with the stock, but I came close. I put the cover on the pan and let it cook over medium low for a couple of minutes, before uncovering and giving it a stir. After stirring for a minute, I covered again and let it sit. I repeated a couple of times, and eventually dispensed with the cover. After a while, when pasta was almost cooked, I added just a little more stock. All in all, it was probably a little more than a cup. As the pasta cooked, some of the water from the stock would evaporate, and some of the starch would rub off into the remaining liquid. Eventually what I was left with was a pasta covered in a silky, self-made chickeny sauce. I sprinkled with a little grated Parmesian and some ground cacao nibs, just like in the article I stole the rest of the recipe from. You'd be surprised how good that is.
I don't know if I'm going to cook my pasta like that every time now, like the woman that writes Chocolate and Zucchini suggested, but I am going to try more variations. I have a few sun-dried tomatoes that I'm thinking about adding, and maybe some kind of chile sauce. Not too much, just enough for flavor.
Terrines: I almost did it
This is what the last couple of posts were supposed to lead up to: a terrine. This isn't something that you really see a whole lot of on this side of the pond. A lot of cooks (such as myself) learn how to make them in cooking school, and then never get the chance to do anything with them in the real world, because a) most Americans don't know what terrines are and b) they couldn't handle them even if they did.
I'd been wanting to make a vegetable terrine for some time; mostly because I'd never made one before. I'd made meat terrines, baked pates made out of anything from chicken to foie gras, back in cooking school. Honestly, I didn't like any of them. I don't know why. Maybe they were too bland, maybe something in my American brain just isn't ready for them. Maybe I just don't like cold sausage. A couple of years ago, I made a chicken terrine, with salt pork, dried cherries and dried apricots added for extra flavor. My tasters at the time thought it was just about the best thing ever. I thought it was disgusting. Did I mention I also don't like cold chicken, or chicken sausage?
So I decided to try out a veggie terrine. A nice southwestern-inspired bit, with chiles and yellow squash and chevre. Okay, so not completely southwestern. And then I never did it. I kept meaning to, and I just never got around to it. And then I got a brilliant idea! Brilliant!
I took a loaf pan, gave it a quick spray and lined it with a piece of parchment paper. Then I took about 6 marinated roasted red bell peppers (from my previous post) and lined the pan with them. I cooked up a (14oz) can of black beans, simmered until just fork tender, and then rinsed and cooled them. I mixed them into a (14oz) can of refried beans, along with a teaspoon of chipotle Tabasco. I laid down about half of that as a layer inside the red peppers. Then I took about half a pound of smoked pork (no, I'm to lazy to make it, I bought it from Lon's Cookin' Shack) and mixed it with about half a cup of salsa. I laid that down as a layer over the beans, and then another layer of beans on top. Then I covered up the whole thing with the remainder of the red peppers. I wrapped it in plastic wrap, put another loaf pan on top, with a few cans of tomatoes on top for weight, and put it in the fridge overnight.
About an hour before it was time to eat, I unwrapped it and put it in a 350F oven until the middle reached 165F (which took about an hour). Normally, terrines are served cold, but hey, who wants to eat this thing cold? So I decided to break more rules and serve it hot. This is when I learned that rules exist for a reason. Sharp though my knives were, the terrine still buckled from the pressure of the blade. In retrospect, I probably should have used my electric knife. So this wasn't the best presentation ever. In fact, I'm pretty embarassed about it. But I'm honest, so I tell people about my screwups. And dang, it tasted good! We served it with Spanish rice, with black bean hummus, salsa and blue corn chips on the side.
I'd been wanting to make a vegetable terrine for some time; mostly because I'd never made one before. I'd made meat terrines, baked pates made out of anything from chicken to foie gras, back in cooking school. Honestly, I didn't like any of them. I don't know why. Maybe they were too bland, maybe something in my American brain just isn't ready for them. Maybe I just don't like cold sausage. A couple of years ago, I made a chicken terrine, with salt pork, dried cherries and dried apricots added for extra flavor. My tasters at the time thought it was just about the best thing ever. I thought it was disgusting. Did I mention I also don't like cold chicken, or chicken sausage?
So I decided to try out a veggie terrine. A nice southwestern-inspired bit, with chiles and yellow squash and chevre. Okay, so not completely southwestern. And then I never did it. I kept meaning to, and I just never got around to it. And then I got a brilliant idea! Brilliant!
I took a loaf pan, gave it a quick spray and lined it with a piece of parchment paper. Then I took about 6 marinated roasted red bell peppers (from my previous post) and lined the pan with them. I cooked up a (14oz) can of black beans, simmered until just fork tender, and then rinsed and cooled them. I mixed them into a (14oz) can of refried beans, along with a teaspoon of chipotle Tabasco. I laid down about half of that as a layer inside the red peppers. Then I took about half a pound of smoked pork (no, I'm to lazy to make it, I bought it from Lon's Cookin' Shack) and mixed it with about half a cup of salsa. I laid that down as a layer over the beans, and then another layer of beans on top. Then I covered up the whole thing with the remainder of the red peppers. I wrapped it in plastic wrap, put another loaf pan on top, with a few cans of tomatoes on top for weight, and put it in the fridge overnight.
About an hour before it was time to eat, I unwrapped it and put it in a 350F oven until the middle reached 165F (which took about an hour). Normally, terrines are served cold, but hey, who wants to eat this thing cold? So I decided to break more rules and serve it hot. This is when I learned that rules exist for a reason. Sharp though my knives were, the terrine still buckled from the pressure of the blade. In retrospect, I probably should have used my electric knife. So this wasn't the best presentation ever. In fact, I'm pretty embarassed about it. But I'm honest, so I tell people about my screwups. And dang, it tasted good! We served it with Spanish rice, with black bean hummus, salsa and blue corn chips on the side.
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