Winter Skies, Kitchen Aglow

Even as the humidity rises and the sun gets closer, I am happy to braise meat. The benefit of braising in warm climes is that there is not much preparation time required, so one can still have cooked meat without having to sweat over a hot stove - most people I know all but abandon cooking during summer. And whilst the inside of a cooking vessel can look gloomy when one is braising dark meat, the meat itself, succulent and flavourful, can be served with any light, summery options you desire. Braising meat in summer is perfect for people who do not care to throw everything on the barbecue (cleaning the grates/grills is not a fun way to end a summer evening).

One of my favourite partners for braised meat is bulgur - cracked wheat that is a staple in Turkey and in the Arabic-speaking world (where it is called burghul). It is generally available in three textures - coarse (great for pilafs), medium (for salads, such as the summer necessity tabbouleh, and to stuff vegetables), and fine (for pastes and purees). It absorbs liquid wonderfully, thereby enhancing its naturally nutty flavors with the broth of your choice. For braised dishes, one can steep bulgur in hot water with a blend of spices and some of the braising liquid.

Braised Lamb Shanks on Bulgur

For the lamb shanks:

2 tablespoons flour
1/4 tablespoon salt
1/4 tablespoon pepper, ground (I used both Szechuan peppercorns and black pepper)
4 lamb shanks
3 tablespoons olive oil
1 tablespoon thyme
1 onion, thinly sliced
1 leek, sliced
2 carrots, diced
300mls/10 fl. oz white wine (just under half a standard bottle of wine)
2 cups beef broth
4 cloves of garlic, roughly chopped

1) Pre-heat oven to 150 C/300 F.
2) Create seasoned flour by combining flour, salt and pepper in a small shallow vessel.
3) Dredge the shanks in the seasoned flour, shake off the excess.
4) In a dutch oven, heat oil over a medium heat and brown the lamb shanks on all sides.
5) Remove lamb shanks, then add thyme, onion, leek and carrots until softened. Stir garlic through to cook, but do not let it brown.
6) Raise heat, add wine and broth. Allow the liquid bubble furiously for a couple of minutes, then return lamb shanks to the dutch oven.
7) Place a layer of baking paper snuggly over the lamb shank, cover with a lid, then put in oven until lamb is meltingly tender, approximately 2-2 1/2 hours.

For the bulgur:

1/2 cup bulgur, medium grind
2 teaspoons ground coriander seeds
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1/4 teaspoon ground Szechuan peppercorns
1/4 teaspoon ground pepper
salt
1/2 cup beef broth
1 cup boiling water

1) In a bowl, combine bulgur, ground spices and a couple of pinches of salt.
2) Add beef broth and water. Stir quickly, then cover with cling-film.
3) Do not remove cling-film until liquid has been absorbed by the bulghur wheat, approximately 20 minutes.

I mixed some of the vegetables from the braise with the bulgur in order to form a nice, nutty bed for the lamb shanks. Be sure to spoon some of the braising liquid over the shanks and bulgur. A touch of zingy freshness can be added with gremolata (minced garlic, lemon zest and parsley).

Even though it takes a while for the lamb shanks to become so tender that the meat practically falls of the bone, this is an exercise in effortless cooking.

Here's to summer!

Labels: bulgur, Lamb, lamb shanks

Designer leaves - those pre-washed and packaged salad greens - do come in handy. But if you're a committed Green, and occasionally my inner-Clean, Green Kiwi kicks in, those plastic bags are a waste and an unnecessary pollutant, especially since they only contain greens you can obtain yourself. And if you haven't got time to wash salad leaves yourself, then what have you got time for?

Of all the designer leaves, my favourite mix is Mesclun (called Spring Mix in the US), which contains leafy baby greens. There is an amazing range of textures and flavours contained therein, and you can probably find most of them at your local farmers' market.

To create your own Mesclun mix, ensure that the greens are young; this way all the leaves are very tender. In addition to different tastes, each subspecies should have a different character in order to provide textural and visual interest. It is best to get a combination of the bitter with the sour and the buttery to make for a more complex salad.

The following are common in Mesclun mixes:

* Radicchio - Sometimes known as Italian Chicory or Treviso, it has a thick red leaf that is bitter and spicy.
* Rocket - Also known as Arugula, this is a favourite for its pepperiness.
* Mizuna - a mustard green that tastes like dandelion, this leaf has gorgeous jagged edges and is slightly less bitter than radicchio.
* Frisée - From this endive family, this frizzy leaf is the palest of greens and is creamy yet bitter in taste and is slightly crunchy in texture.
* Mâche - Also known as Lamb's Lettuce, this has a long green leaf with a sweet taste (the older the leaf the more intense the bitterness).
* Sorrel - A long wavy leaf with a sour taste.
* Silverbeet - Also known as Swiss Chard, this is a leathery, dark green leaf that has a mild bitter taste.
* Spinach - In its baby form, it is tender but with a slight bite.
* Red Beet - The heart-shaped leaves of the beetroot (or beet) taste like spinach and add a gorgeous deep-red to your salad palate.
* Pea Tendrils - From the snow pea plant, the graceful tendrils add crispness and taste like peas, as you would expect.
* Bibb - Or Boston Lettuce, this baby leaf is spade-shaped and has a buttery texture.

Of course, I cannot leave well alone and just have a salad of leaves, though I do not hold it against those that choose to do so. I love meat in my salads, whether it be duck, beef or lamb. Today I chose lamb chops from the middle loin. The meat is not fatty, which makes it a perfect meat for quick grilling. But I chose a chop because I had something specific in mind for the outer layer of fat.

This salad can serve two or four, depending on the course.

Mesclun and Lamb Salad

For the marinade:
1 tablespoon sumac
1 tablespoon olive oil
1/2 tablespoon balsamic vinegar
salt
pepper

4 middle loin lamb chops, approximately 1/3kg or 3/4lb total weight

For the salad dressing:
1/2 tablespoon vermouth (or white wine vinegar)
1/2 tablespoon clover honey (or any sweet, runny honey)
1/8 teaspoon kosher salt
1/8 teaspoon black pepper, freshly ground
3/4 tablespoon sumac
1 1/2 - 2 tablespoons olive oil

60g/2oz Mesclun salad mix, your own or store bought

3/4 tablespoon olive oil, plus 1 teaspoon if required
4 slices of ciabatta bread
1 tablespoon parsley, chopped

1) Mix the marinade ingredients together in a shallow bowl.
2) Put the lamb chops into the same bowl. Turn over and rub in the marinade to ensure complete coverage. Leave at room temperature, covered, for at least 30 minutes. If for more than an hour or if it is an especially hot day, leave covered in the refrigerator. Bring meat to room temperature before grilling, though.
3) In a large bowl, mix the salad dressing ingredients together except for the olive oil. Trickle olive oil in last, stirring with a fork or small whisk to emulsify. Taste for additional seasoning or whether you want it more astringent (more vermouth) or sweeter (more honey). If you do not have sumac, substitute with the juice of half a lemon and use less vermouth.
4) Put your Mesclun leaves on top of the dressing, but don't toss them in the dressing until you are ready to serve the salad.
5) Put a heavy-bottomed frying pan/skillet on over high heat. Add 3/4 tablespoon of olive oil.
6) Give the chops a quick shake over the bowl in which they have been marinading to release excess liquid. Put into the frying pan when the oil begins to smoke.
7) Depending on how you prefer your lamb chops done, allow 3-7 minutes per side. Before removing from the pan, roll the in the pan to get it slightly crispy and to render some of the fat. Remove from the pan and allow to rest. Do not freak out if they look burned; it should only be darker than expected on account of the sumac.
8) Turn the heat down to medium-high. Check liquid to see if more is required; if so, add 1 teaspoon of olive oil. Put the slices of ciabatta in the pan to soak up the lamb fat and olive oil. You want a light toasting, so only 1-2 minutes per side should suffice.
9) Toss the salad.
10) To assemble the salad: Place the slices of ciabatta on the plate, add a light layer of mesclun leaves, followed by the lamb chops. Top with a bulkier layer of mesclun leaves and scatter with parsley.

I love the smoky, citrus elements of sumac, which marries so well with lamb, with its gamy intensity. As for the ciabatta, not only does it add a toasty crunch to every bite, but combined with the lamb fat it has absorbed will make your eyes roll with pleasure.

The salad world has come a long way from those consisting solely of the ubiquitous iceberg lettuce. Give Mesclun a shot. It will make any side salad infintely interesting, or it can be incorporated into a more substantial salad, like this one, adding an element of sophistication.


This post is being submitted to the inimitable Susan of The Well-Seasoned Cook, who is hosting the 105th edition of Kalyn's Kitchen Weekend Herb Blogging, a food blog event that has just gone into its third year.

Post script Please take the time to visit the round-up of this event, as poetically compiled by Susan at The Well-Seasoned Cook.
 

Labels: Lamb, Meat Salad, Mesclun, Sumac, Weekend Herb Blogging

It seems a crime to admit this, but these two recipes constitute the only times I have ever cooked lamb. Really. And I am from the country often joked about for having more sheep than people. Actually, one of the reasons I have not ventured down the lamb-trodden path is because Eric doesn't really like lamb. When he first told me about this, I was quite shocked. What's not to like? I have since learned that a lot of people do not like lamb, thinking it too strong in flavour. I suppose it is because I was raised on this symbol of the slaughtered innocent that I do not consider it gamey. It tastes, well, normal to me, but that is hardly a sophisticated description of its qualities.

There is no arguing that lamb is an institution in New Zealand. We mean business. I knew that if I was going to cook lamb for my parents I would have to put on a good show. I saw two legs of lamb in the deep freezer and undertook to cook them one week apart.

I first decided on a very simple Nigel Slater recipe. I did not alter any of the suggested ingredients because I wanted to know what a simply roasted leg of lamb tasted like, what its characteristics are. Of course this all depends on what the lamb was fed on and for how long the meat was hung, but all food has an inherent flavour that can be ascribed to it. So, what is lamb's? I think it is a sweet herbiness, like thyme, which is probably why lamb is often paired with rosemary -
exactly what Mr. Slater suggest for a simple dinner of roast lamb.

Lamb Roast
(from Nigel Slater's Appetite)

2kg/4lb lamb on the bone, either leg or shoulder
4 sprigs rosemary or 6-8 stems thyme, finely chop the leaves and reserve the stems
olive oil, to massage the lamb
1-2 heads of garlic, unpeeled
salt
pepper

1) Preheat the oven to 230 C/445 F.
2) Place your preferred piece of lamb on the bone into a roasting tin.
3) Stir olive oil into the herby leaves, then add salt and pepper.
4) Massage the herby liquid goodness into the lamb.
5) Cut the head(s) of garlic in half and place under the lamb with the reserved stems of rosemary or thyme.
6) Put the lamb in the oven and roast for 20 minutes.
7) Turn the heat down to 200 C/390 F and roast for 15 minutes per 500g/per pound. This is if you want medium-rare flesh. Should you prefer yours rare, roast for 12 minutes per 500g/per pound; if you prefer it well-done, roast for 17 minutes per 500g/per pound. You might want to check on the garlic if you are going to leave it in the oven for more than an hour to make sure it does not burn.
8) Allow the lamb to rest for at least 10 minutes before carving in order to allow the juices to redistribute.

I chose to roast the lamb until it was medium-rare in order for my mother and grandfather to eat the flesh closest to the layer of fat, where it would be darker; my father and I could then devour the succulent flesh closest to the bone. As you can see, the flesh is nice and pink and the skin nicely roasted. I can recall many an overcooked and charred roast lamb in many homes around Auckland. This lamb was not jaw-breaking to any stretch of the imagination; it was juicy and perfumed with flavor. You should not go wrong with this version of a quick roast lamb, served with the standard veggies here, but that is an imperial hangover and not mandatory for you.

As the weather cools, I gravitate towards meat that is braised, falling off the bone and served on a bed of caramelized vegetables. I love watching the windows fog up because I have purposefully kept them closed, trapping the aromatic vapors from the dutch oven in the kitchen. Most time spent in the kitchen is joyous, but I do not find many as cozy as those in which braising is taking place.

The main difference between roasting and braising is that liquid is involved with the latter. The liquid does not typically cover the meat, for that would eventually stew it, not really allowing for any caramelization of the meat unless it is browned beforehand. Tyically I do not see the point in browning the meat before braising it because there is so much resultant flavour in this method of cooking.

I have come across a very tempting Italian recipe for braised lamb with juniper berries in Diana Henry's Roast Figs, Sugar Snow. I got very excited at the prospect of making it because my angelheart Eric and I were in Colorado in April visiting our friends, the stylish and effervescent Ailene and the espresso-loving and ruminating Mirko, when we bought junpier berries for the first time. Being apart from Eric at the moment, I am infinitely gladdened by anything that makes me think of him. Knowing how much he likes braised meat, I thought I would try this recipe and tempt him to like lamb. I only wish I had attempted to bring the juniper berries to New Zealand with me, for I had no luck finding them during a shopping excursion yesterday. I decided upon something equally resinous and aromatic - peppercorns. I understand that this changes the flavor profile of the Marcella Hazan recipe that Ms. Henry writes about so invitingly, but I was more eager to see how lamb tastes when braised. Ms. Henry also suggests separating the fat from the liquid once the braising is complete, and you can then pour it over the meat. I didn't bother, choosing to turn the heat up to medium to create a really thick juice that would collect the caramelized veggies.

Melting Leg of Lamb
(Adapted from Diana Henry's Roast Figs, Sugar Snow)

2kg/4lb leg of lamb on the bone
1 carrot, diced
1 stick of celery, diced
1 medium onion, roughly chopped
2 1/2 teaspoons black peppercorns (juniper berries), quickly walloped with a mallet
3 cloves of garlic, smashed with the side of a chef's knife
4 sprigs of fresh rosemary
350ml/12 fl. oz white wine (I used a blend: semillon/chardonnay)
salt
pepper

1) Over a low heat, put all the ingredients into a dutch oven (a heavy-bottomed casserole dish).
2) Cover with a lid and cook for 4 hours, turning the meat every 45 minutes.
3) Partially remove the lid, turn up the heat to a medium-low setting.
4) Cook for another 1 1/2 hours, turning every 45 minutes.
5) The meat should be brown and tender at this stage. If not, turn the heat up a bit more. You can do the same should you wish your liquid to be thicker (as I did).
6) Allow the lamb to rest for at least ten minutes before carving.

Mum beat me to the plating of this dish, too, for I was busy putting the webcam in a safe place. This is why you do not see slices of lamb to mark the difference in results from the above recipe, but in place see caramelized veggies atop the braised lamb. The meat was tender, succulent and sweet. It was redolent of the thyme-like characteristics I think lamb has, and it had a nice hit of spice from the black peppercorns, complementing the gooseberry-like notes of the wine. Quite different to the above recipe, but it was easy to execute. To quote Ms. Henry, this braised lamb is winter on the tongue.

Labels: Diana Henry, Lamb, Nigel Slater

It is with great pleasure that I have been asked by Sara at i like to cook and Mary at The Sour Dough to review this cookery book. Now, I am hardly the sea-faring type, but I have often wondered, all romantic and wide-eyed, what is eaten aboard passenger and cargo vessels. One often hears of the buffets on the liners that hopscotch around the Caribbean islands, but what about the passenger ships and freighters of North America? Not only does Creative Characters Publishing Group's Ships of the Great Lakes Cookbook satisfy this curiosity, but it also provides recipes for many notable American dishes, which make the passengers and crew members feel like they are at home no matter where they are.

The Ships of the Great Lakes Cookbook is organized into chapters covering currently active tall ships, freighters, coast guard ships, passenger vessels, retired vessels, and a salute to those who have given tirelessly to the men and women who live on the waves of the Great Lakes. The biggest impression I get from this historical parade is the food trends, from contemporary takes on European cuisine, such as marinated focaccia bread sandwiches on the Denis Sullivan (nicknamed "the ship built by a thousand hands and a thousand hearts", p.3), to Americana, like baked beans served on some of the Michigan State car ferries.

What is also interesting to note, as prefaced above, is the difference between what is eaten not only across time but also across class. For example, on the M.T.S. Arcadia, a cruise liner, guests are invited to a Greek Tavern dinner that consists of all sorts of Greek delights: avgolemono (an egg and lemon soup), moussaka, and galaktoboureko (a custard-filled pastry), yet on the M.V. Canadian Miner, a freighter, the crew is served big pot meals: sausage and rice casserole, turkey noodle soup, and beef curry. This distinction clearly underlines the purposes of the people aboard the ships, and it is an interesting commentary on how both sides live - Upstairs Downstairs on the Great Lakes.

Each featured ship is given space to reveal its history, as indicated not only with succinct text but also with black and white photographs. Menus are also provided to give the reader contextual information, adding depth to the recipes selected to represent the stewards' offerings on each ship.

Most important, though, is the recipes. They cover the spectrum of all things American or foreign with crossover American appeal (i.e. that which can be produced with minimum items, minimum fuss, and maximum output to feed an army). I decided on an afternoon tea snack, the freighter ship M.V. Algosoo's coconut pound cake and dinner, lamb pot pie, which was served on the S.S. Milwaukee Clipper (now retired), and baked apple dumplings, served on the S.S. Badger, a passenger vessel. These were not only chosen because they suited my needs but also because some recipes are for very large quantities (and not all worth the effort of scaling down, so they make good suggestions for parties to which a crowd is invited) or because a yield is not given, which is intimidating to the inexperienced cook.

The recipe that I am spotlighting is the lamb pot pie - well, how could I not? I live in New Zealand, after all! The pastry is enough for two crusts, as articulated in the recipe, but one can use a prepared puff pastry from the market if one cannot be bothered making the shortening pastry. The only omission I made was the mushrooms, but I have included them in the rundown of ingredients should you wish to use them. I also have to reveal that the lamb pot pie filling was supposed to require 1/4 cup flour and an additional 1/2 cup vegetable broth or water, but as to when to add them was not indicated in the method, so I didn't add them at all, and this did not negatively impact the result (but it did make for some consternation).

Lamb Pot Pie
(as served on the S.S. Milwaukee Clipper from the Ships of the Great Lakes Cookbook)

For the pastry:
2 cups flour
1 teaspoon salt
2/3 cup shortening
6 to 7 tablespoons cold water

For the lamb filling:
2 pounds/approx. 1 kg stewing lamb, cut into bite-sized pieces
2 small onions, sliced
2 large potatoes, peeled and thinly sliced
1/2 pound/a bit more than 1/5 kg fresh mushrooms, thinly sliced
1 1/2 cups vegetable broth
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
2 tablespoons butter
1/2 teaspoon pepper
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon ground cilantro/coriander
1 tablespoon mustard (or 1/2 tablespoon dry mustard)

For the egg wash:
1 egg
4 tablespoons milk (or other liquid, such as water)

To prepare the pastry:
1) Stir flour and salt in a large bowl.
2) Cut in the shortening.
3) Sprinkle 1 tablespoon of cold water in pastry mixture and gently toss with a fork. Repeat this step with remaining water until entire pastry mixture is moistened.
4) Divide dough into 2 balls. Roll out 1 ball and line the bottom of a greased and floured pie plate, reserving the remaining ball for the top.

To prepare the filling:
1) Combine vegetable oil and butter in a large pot, and heat together until the butter is melted.
2) Add lamb and brown it on all sides (I did this in two batches so as not to overcrowd the pot and braise the lamb).
3) Add the remaining ingredients, and stir to combine them.
4) Simmer covered for 20 minutes.
5) Uncover and cook for a further 15 minutes, stirring occassionally.

To compile the pie:
1) Preheat oven to 375 F/190 C.
2) Pour filling over bottom crust in the pie plate.
3) Roll out the reserved ball of dough to place over the filling, and crimp the edges to seal in the ingredients and moisture.
4) Cut three small slits in the top to vent.
5) Combine egg wash ingredients together and lightly brush over the top crust.
6) Bake for 20-30 minutes until done (the nose knows!).

I do apologise for the photo, but I had to use a disposable camera (shock horror) as my angelheart Eric has custody of our digital. Aesthetics aside, I have to say that this both smelled and tasted like a pie, which is to say that I would certainly use the recipe again, but I would augment some of the flavors. Perhaps I would add a little brandy or red wine to the simmering filling instead of so much vegetable broth, and I would also include a bouquet garni, so as to enhance the Spring flavors that complement lamb so well.

To me, though, this recipe is typical of most in the book, reinforced by the results of making the coconut pound cake (a standard cake mix to which is added a teaspoon of coconut extract and one cup of dessicated coconut) and baked apple dumplings (peeled and cored apples dusted with a combination of nutmeg and cinnamon, individually wrapped in sweet shortcrust pastry and baked in a sauce of butter, cinnamon, nutmeg, and sugar), in that they are mostly traditional, practical, and no-frills in their execution enough to follow for everyday cooking. There is a great degree of honesty in the recipes, some of which are no more than a can of this, a can of that, 1 pound of this, and 2 pounds of that. Not only do such recipes leave you a bit gob-smacked by the sheer quanitity of each ingredient and the indulgence in preserved goods, they educate the reader on the lifestyle of the crew, which is really on board to work and to whom the meals are mostly for sustenance. This not to say the book has no culinary merit, for there are gems within (the Layered Mocha Cream Torte as served on the Denis Sullivan has been bookmarked!) for at home or tailgating use.

The Ships of the Great Lakes Cookbook functions best as a good compendium of American recipes. Of course these recipes have to be standard - for the most part, the objective is to not only make people feel pampered (if they are passengers) but also to make people feel comforted when away from home. This invites you, the home cook and lover of American food, to add your own personal stamp, as I recommend you do.

Labels: Book Review, Cookbook Spotlight, Lamb, Pie