Winter Skies, Kitchen Aglow

When thinking about this month's Weekend Cookbook Challenge, TV Cooks, I was in two minds about participating. There has been sufficient negative print regarding the post-modern breed of celebrity chefs and cooks that I didn't want to open myself up to criticism (namely, for lack of both depth and individuality). But then, I thought, "Who am I kidding?" The fact of the matter is that television channels like the Food Network and the proliferation of food-focussed magazines, all of which are either driven by or concentrate on cooks and chefs, may potentially curb what appears to be a very dangerous trajectory in the course of consumption - some of us are now questioning the provenance of our food and are thinking about what we are putting into our bodies. If one looks beyond the glossy lives, smooth skin and kitchen gadgets, what is there to criticise? Besides, I'm part of the target audience for these shows: willing and fabulous.

While we're talking about home truths, if it were not for television cooks, such as Nigella Lawson, Tyler Florence, Tamasin Day-Lewis and Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall, I might not be cooking as I do now - regularly and with some respect for ingredients. The appeal of the cooks on television is not necessarily their looks, though that can stop one from changing the channel when one is surfing, but their accessibility. The best tv cooks condense their knowledge into culinary bullet points, perfect for generations X and Y - the Short-Term Attention Span Set. Accessibility is paired with enthusiasm for ingredients and recipes, and each episode often climaxes with a lifestyle plug: food + friends = the good life.

It was the endorsement of a lifestyle I wanted that finally motivated me to work in the kitchen in a meaningful way (also, I had time on my hand as a student and felt guilty watching my angelheart Eric cook after a day's work followed by a typically-hellish Los Angeles commute). As you will note in my earlier posts, cooking centres around dinner with my angelheart Eric or gathering around the dining table with our good friends, most notably the divine poetess Suzanne (now in Paris), the stylish and effervescent Ailene and her husband, the espresso-loving and ruminating Mirko (both now in Colorado). Since leaving Los Angeles, the drive to cook has simmered. At first I attributed this to heartache; and while I think this quite true, I think that holding dinner parties for my Kiwi friends will get the boil going again.

So, moving forward, I am revisiting the cookery books that inspired me so much in the first place. (And I appreciate your patience, having listened to me rattle on about justifying my participation in this month's theme Weekend Cookbook Challenge, TV Cooks.)

What my angelheart Eric and I love so much about Tyler Florence is his enthusiasm for big flavours (heck, the guy even keeps a "flavour journal"!). One of my favourite cookery shows is the old format of Tyler's Ultimate in which Tyler would visit two different people to learn their approach to a particular dish (sometimes going to different countries) and then he'd return to his Manhattan apartment (with its gorgeous brick wall), enlightened and inspired to put his spin on the two recipes and produce the ultimate version of the episode's featured dish (the apple pie, lasagne and paella episodes are particularly compelling and mouth-watering). There is a cookery book of the same name plus two others by this young chef: Tyler Florence's Real Kitchen and Eat This Book.

Eat This Book celebrates big global flavours. The cover shows Mr. Florence in step, powering foward with grocery bags on which are printed Chinese charcters - he is urban, savvy and purposeful. The cover does not misrepresent the contents of the book. Eat This Book places diversity on a pedastal and is a culinary passport of the decentred yet globalised world in which we live.

The recipe that inspires this post highlights Tyler Florence's skills - it presents classically-paired items (pork and apple) and adds his post-modern spin; this is global fusion that is achievable without necessitating a leap of faith from one's comfort zone.

The glory of pork belly is that it is a cheap piece of meat that can be poshed up. It responds well to dry rubs and pastes, and because of its tender structure it is best braised, allowing many possibilities for great depth of flavour. While Mr. Florence suggests serving the dish with a potato and celeriac mash, I have opted for something that is not as soft, for the apple and pork belly offer enough - roasted kumara, cut into chips.

New Zealand kumara is also known as sweet potato. While pre-European Maori are shown to have grown many Polynesian cultivars, the most common kumara is the Owairaka Red, which was developed from a larger American variety of sweet potato. It is rich in Vitamins A and C, and the best thing is that you do not have to peel it (besides, the skin has a special fibre that has special health properties related to both cancer and longevity). Today I have chosen the red kumara for its mellow taste - if I had chosen orange kumara, it might have created too sweet a dish, what with the baked apple on the plate, too. For more information on kumara, go to Kaipara Kumara.

The following menu has been tweaked for a variety of reasons, one of them being that sage is not easily found in New Zealand, so I chose to forgo it altogether, and that I created a slightly spicier apple side by using ginger loaf instead of cornbread muffin, as you will see. Enough for four.

Braised Pork Belly and Buttered Apples
(Adapted from Tyler Florence's Eat This Book)

For the pork belly:
1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
1 tablespoon fennel seeds, toasted then ground
2 tablespoons thyme
1/2kg/1lb pork belly (one slice, unsmoked)
salt, pepper
720ml/24 fl. oz cider
1 cup chicken stock

For the kumara:
3 kumara, approximately 900kg/1.8lb, cut into wedges
olive oil
salt, pepper

For the apples:
4 apples (I used early season Pacific Rose because they hold their structure well when cooked and have a lovely pink blush)
56g/1/2 stick unsalted butter, softened to room temperature
1/2 cup crumbs from a moist ginger loaf (or, per Mr. Florence, corn muffin)
1/2 tablespoon thyme
1 clove garlic, minced
salt, pepper
1/2 cup cider

1) Pre-heat oven to 200 C/390 F.
2) Score the fat of the pork belly and pat the entire slab dry.
3) Stir together olive oil, ground fennel seeds, thyme in a small bowl. The idea is to make a paste, but I made mine slightly wetter for extra coverage.
4) Rub liquid all over the pork belly and season generously with salt and pepper.
5) Heat a saute pan over medium-high heat. Add 2 tablespoons olive oil.
6) When oil smokes, place the pork belly in the pan, fat-side down. The belly may bend, so use tongs to ensure all the fat crisps up. It should only take five minutes for the fat to look resplendent in burnished, autumnal hues.
7) Turn pork belly over and move pan from the heat.
8) Drain fat from the pan, add the cider and chicken stock.
9) Cover with foil or heavy lid and place on the middle rack in the oven until done, approximately 45 mintues.
10) Core apples.
11) In another small bowl, mix together softened butter, ginger loaf crumbs, thyme, garlic and salt and pepper.
12) Spoon the stuffing into the cavities of the apples, and stand them up, snuggled side-by-side in a baking dish.
13) Once the pork is approximately 30 minutes from being done, pour the cider around the apples and bake until soft.
14) On a foil-lined baking tray, place the kumara wedges and drizzle over olive oil, salt and pepper. Mix together, then lay wedges in one layer. Place in the oven on lowest rack.
15) After minutes, turn kumara wedges over and leave to bake until done.
16) Pull saute pan out, remove foil or lid, and place over medium-high heat. Baste the pork belly as the liquid boils. (If you wish, you can reduce liquid to a sauce and serve as a gravy.)
17) Remove pork belly and cut into slices.
18) Check sauce for seasoning.

The Autumn light does not allow for the most beautiful photo of the results, but you get an idea of the dish anyway. The amount of pork belly, here, seems stingy, but I assure you that it is so beautifully rich that one does not need more. And though one does not taste the cider, fennel seed and thyme strongly, there is a sweet herbiness throughout, harmonising with the richness of the meat. I did not eat the crackling, but I adore its tactile quality; it gives the dish presence. (And such wonderful quality pork belly from the guys at Seaview Meats.)

Now I just need to set the table for friends...

Post-edit: Please visit the round-up to see what everyone else made.

Labels: Apple, Autumn, Fall, Kumara, Pacific Rose apples, Pork belly, Sweet Potato, Tyler Florence, Weekend Cookbook Challenge

Many foodies and everyday cooks (those who only cook because one needs to eat) enjoy Nigella Lawson's approach to cooking. She is a great magpie, picking from many cuisines and adapting them to largely unfussy presentations for everyday cooking and great parties. I think that which makes her more successful than most tv cooks and chefs is that she has finely tuned her analytical abilities developed through her work as a literature and restaurant/food critic. As such, she is able to make any ingredient and, by extension, any dish approachable and appealing. Nigella Lawson is the "theme" for this month's Weekend Cookbook Challenge, hosted by Ani at Foodie Chickie.

La Lawson first came to my attention through her television show Nigella Bites. I hadn't heard of her before then, and I managed to catch her quite by accident when I was alone on a rainy night with nothing better to do. In fact, I was thinking of changing the channel, for preparing food was not my "thing" - my angelheart Eric was the cook in our family; I was the barman. Anyway, it didn't take long for me to get hooked. I got caught up in Nigella's energy, the way she talks directly to the camera, drawing her audience in, and by the swift and uncomplicated editing. Nigella Bites and all of Nigella's subsequent shows are contemporary and ride on La Lawson's sass, charm and heady, descriptive powers.

Okay, so it took me a few years to actually get around to trying any of her recipes, but Nigella planted the seed and many a mental note was taken - her encouragement and lack of airs made it all seem so easy. To Nigella, I am grateful for ingredients and foods that I now couldn't imagine my cooking and baking life without - principally sumac and vanilla extract.

Nigella Lawson's books capture her shows' same humour and vivacity, which are not easily translatable to text. What I also enjoy about the texts so much is her detailed explanations of combinations of ingredients, aromas and textures, clipped from other writers and from her own travels and experiences. That she has a great bibliography section at the back of each book is a wonderful bonus, a direction to further one's own culinary curiosities. From La Lawson's recommendations alone, I have found myself purchasing books by Claudia Roden, Beatrice Ojakangas, Elizabeth David, Simon Hopkinson, Patricia Wells and Nigel Slater.

The following recipe is taken from Nigella Lawson's first book, How to Eat: The Pleasures and Principles of Good Food, which I reviewed last year. And while she, too, has adapted this recipe (from Claudia Roden), I find it summarises her approach to food really well. La Lawson extracts all the goodness from every ingredient, and it is no different with the incorporation of chicken fat in this recipe, used to coat the pasta, best enjoyed hot. If you want a quick and tasty lunch, this is the way to go: chicken thighs instead of a roast chicken. The Venetian ghetto is conjured up with the pinenuts and sultanas, necessary ingredients for haroset.

Fettucine with Chicken from the Venetian Ghetto
(Adapted from Nigella Lawson's How to Eat: The Pleasures and Principles of Good Food)

2 large chicken thighs, bone in and skin on
extra virgin olive oil
salt
pepper
1/4 cup sultanas, soaked in warm water for 30 minutes
1/4 cup pine nuts, lightly toasted
fettucine, about 500g/1 lb
parsley

1) Cover the chicken thighs with olive oil, salt and pepper and start boiling a pot of water for the pasta.
2) Over a medium-high heat, pan-fry the chicken thighs - skin-side down first. It should take approximately 10-15 minutes for the thighs to be done, depending on their thickness.
3) When done, allow to become cool enough to handle. Ideally, this should be done about the time the pasta is ready to go into a pot of boiling, salted water.
4) Tear the chicken flesh from the bone either with your hands or two forks. Chop up the skin.
5) As the pasta nears completion, add the pinenuts and drained sultanas to the liquidised chicken fat and olive oil in the pan. Heat through over medium-low heat.
6) Drain pasta and immediately pour over the chicken fat, sultanas and pine nuts. Toss thoroughly.
7) Add the shredded chicken and sprinkle over with parsley.

This is incredibly comforting on a blowsy day like today. The inclusion of this recipe in Nigella Lawson's debut book is testament to her ability to create appealing and approachable food, showing off the best of each ingredient. The slickness of the oil-coated pasta is tempered by the sweet, juicy sultanas, the crunch of the toasted pinenuts and the freshness of the parsley. It took Nigella Lawson to teach me how so few ingredients are all it takes to make a good meal every day.

Labels: Chicken, Fettucine, Nigella Lawson, Weekend Cookbook Challenge

The theme of this month's Weekend Cookbook Challenge, as hosted by Sara at i like to cook, is Show and Tell, for which one is to describe a cookery book from one's collection. This month's book that I am accessing for this challenge is an anomaly in my collection. As much as I love single-subject cookery books, I usually steer clear of any books along the vein of "101 Ways with..." because I generally find them to be badly written and haphazardly collected. However, Tom Douglas' I Love Crab Cakes is not tacky, despite the multicoloured font on the cover.

It was my angelheart Eric who (finally) turned me on to crab cakes this year, and they are now my usual entree/appetizer. It was at the end of last year that I started to eat crab again, on account of the thick and sweet meat of Alaskan King crab. Before then, no crab meat had passed my lips for 16 or so years as puberty prompted a disavowal of all seafood. I have had different and many riffs on crab cakes, from those with loads of lump crab meat, some filled with a combination of lump crab meat and corn, and (the worst ones) consisting of more filler than crab meat.

To my mind, the best crab cakes have barely any filler other than lump crab meat (which is from the body of the blue crab). I say 'barely' because I want more in my binding ingredients than egg yolk, canola oil and Old Bay seasoning. In our quest over the last week to make the most simple yet perfect tasting crab cakes, my angelheart Eric and I have gone through (and subjected others to) three pounds/1 1/2kgs of lump crab meat (one pound fresh, two pounds pasteurised) and many cups of breadcrumbs and panko to decide how we best like a straight-forward crab cake, specifically Tom Douglas' Chesapeake Bay Classic Crab Cakes.

The main reason this book doesn't fall into the "tacky" category of made-for-a-quick-buck-cookery books is the author's perspective. Before settling in Seattle, a gorgeous city on the Pacific Northwest coast, Tom Douglas was raised in the mid-Atlantic, the home of crab cakes. Additionally, in this book there is sufficient information regarding which crab meats work best for crab cakes, and Mr. Douglas succinctly explains how to form, dredge, and cook them. There is also an explanation of the key larder and other comestible items largely used. I learned about Old Bay seasoning, a traditional fish seasoning that is used all over the Atlantic states. If you do not have it to hand, use any fish seasoning and supplement the ingredients you are lacking by using - or follow outright - Aliza Green's recipe. Concerning the recipes, the book is split into the following chapters: American Crab Cakes, Global/New Wave Crab Cakes, Brunch and Breakfast Crab Cakes, Crab Cake Sandwiches, Cool Crab Cakes, and Sauces and Salsas.

This recipe uses one pound of lump crab meat and makes approximately eight crab cakes. You will find our preferred substitutions in the ingredients' lists and Mr. Douglas' suggestions in parentheses. Before using any crab meat, drain it in a sieve and squeeze out any excess liquid while simultaneously combing through for any remaining cartilage or shell. Regarding the method of frying, butter is problematic because one wants the temperature high enough to fry, but butter does not have a high burning point. Combine butter and olive oil for both flavour and a high burning point, or you could just use olive oil, as we did. The remoulade recipe makes about 1 1/2 cups, so there will be leftovers, perfect for spreading on slices of bread when having steak sandwiches, as one would with mustard or mayo (at least, that is something I did with the leftovers).

Chesapeake Bay Classic Crab Cakes with Spicy Remoulade Sauce
(Adapted from Tom Douglas' I Love Crab Cakes)

For the crab cakes, you need:

1 large egg yolk
1 tablespoon Old Bay seasoning
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
1/2 teaspoon grated lemon zest
1 1/2 teaspoons lemon juice
1 1/2 teaspoons white wine vinegar (or cider vinegar)
1/2 cup canola oil (or peanut oil)
1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper, freshly ground
2 tablespoons tarragon (or 1 tablespoon scallions/green onions, minced)
1 pound/1/2kg lump crab meat, fresh or pasteurised
3 cups bread crumbs (fresh, or use 4 cups if not using panko)
1 cup panko
1/4 cup parsley, chopped
4 tablespoons olive oil (or butter, or a half-and-half combination of both)

1) In a blender or with a whisk, process egg yolk, Old Bay seasoning, mustard, lemon zest and juice, and vinegar until smooth.
2) Slowly pour in the oil (with the machine running, if using a blender) until the mixture emulsifies, forming a mayonnaise.
3) Season with salt and pepper.
4) Fold in the tarragon and crabmeat until well combined.
5) Combine bread crumbs, panko, and parsley in a shallow bowl.
6) Form crab cakes by quickly tossing them in the palms of your hands, as you would a meat patty, or use an ice cream scoop of 2 ounces to collect your crab meat. You can also lightly pick up 1/4 cup of crab meat with your fingers to form crab cakes. To dredge, either scoop the meat onto the bread crumb mixture and push crumbs around the cakes, or you can flip the meat in the bread crumb mixture, nudging it around the sides as well. The crab cakes should not be larger than 3" wide and 3/4" inch high.
7) Refrigerate, covered, on a bed of the bread crumb mixture for 30 minutes to one hour. If you are using panko, I do not suggest leaving the crab cakes to sit in the fridge for more than 30 minutes as the crab meat actually absorbs some of the bread crumb mixture.
8) In a 10" cast iron or stainless steel skillet/frying pan over medium heat, pour in two tablespoons olive oil.
9) Pat off excess bread crumbs and place 4 crab cakes in the skillet. Lightly fry until done (internal temperature should be 155 F), approximately 4 minutes per side. Turn carefully with a spatula as the interior is moist and fragile.

For the remoulade, you need:

3/4 cup mayonnaise
1/4 cup celery, finely chopped
2 tablespoons lemon juice, freshly squeezed
2 tablespoons parsley, chopped
1 1/2 tablespoons prepared horseradish (use one tablespoon if you want it mild)
1 tablespoon shallot, minced
1 tablespoon whole-grain mustard
1 tablespoon sweet chili sauce (or ketchup)
2 teaspoons Worcestershire sauce
1 1/2 teapoons paprika
1/2 teaspoon red chili flakes (or 1 teaspoon Tobasco sauce)
1/2 teapoon garlic, minced
kosher salt

1) Put all ingredients into a bowl with the mayonnaise going first, forming a bed for the others.
2) Stir to combine.
3) Season with salt to taste.
4) Store in the refrigerator, covered, until ready to serve.

There are endless variations on crab cakes and serving sauces, and Tom Douglas provides recipes to suit all tastes. I may next try one from the Global/New Wave Crab Cakes chapter in which crab cakes are made using fresh ginger and are coated with coconut - perfect for a Kiwi Summer barbeque. Presently, I prefer this classic American crab cake with an intense and sweet crab taste, highlighted by the herbs and made piquant with the remoulade. Of course, you could always dip them in a cocktail sauce, but I adore the spiciness of horseradish. We served our crab cakes with lamb's lettuce (mâche), providing a mild and velvety contrast to the crab cakes when not smothered with remoulade.

Labels: Crab, crab cakes, Horseradish, Remoulade, Tom Douglas, Weekend Cookbook Challenge

This month's Weekend Cookbook Challenge, started and maintained by Sara at one of my daily blog addictions - i like to cook - is being hosted by Paige at chef-girl.net. The instructions are just as I like them: loose - make a dish of any description to pair with a DVD of a movie or tv show. It didn't take me long to decide what to watch because MGM recently reissued a double-billing: Jean de Florette and Manon of the Spring.

These two Marcel Pagnol novels were adapted for the screen by Claude Berri, who also directed the films, and Gérard Brach. They are cautionary tales with biblical undertones that are set against the backdrop of what is often today still regarded as paradise: Provence.

This, however, is not the Provence most of us know. Its endless golden, rolling hills - often the epitome of Summer - are, here, the setting for greed, captured in the landscape through drought and unabating heat. In Jean de Florette, Gérard Dépardieu, playing the titular role of the hunchback, arrives in the provençale countryside with his loyal wife and adventurous daughter, after having inherited a large plot of land with a water source. What he doesn't know is that the spring has been sealed by his neighbours, the dim-witted though single-minded Ugolin (Daniel Auteuil) and avaricious entrepreneur César Soubeyran (exquisitely portrayed by Simone Signoret's husband, the elegant Yves Montand). The neighbours help the well-intentioned tax collector-cum-organic farmer to his ruin with the expectation of purchasing his land for their carnation venture. Manon des Sources sees Jean's daughter, Manon (portrayed by then ingénue, now international film star, Emmanuelle Béart) exacting vengeance on the conspirators.

This isn't meant to put you off your food, of course, for the landscapes are stunning, as are the village scenes: the farmers gathering in sunlit cafés despairing at their poor harvests, afternoon pastis under the shade of leafy trees, the gentlemen playing pétanque in the town square...In this oppressive Californian heat, and I proffer in any temperature, it is easy to be romanced by the azures and yellow ochres of la vie provençale.

The location of the source of life, as in the Garden of Eden, is amongst life-affirming trees. In this case, it is the fig tree. To eat while watching this film, I, thus, offer baked figs. This, to my mind, is the best way to have figs if one is to do anything to them - that is to say, not have them right off the tree. My usual additions to this Nigella Lawson recipe are a tart berry - this time red currants - and thyme (though, today, I couldn't find any in the fridge or on the spice rack; if you happen to have some, chuck in a tablespoon of fresh thyme or half a tablespoon of dried thyme). My substitution, as seems to be typical this Summer, is pistachios for almonds.

Broiled Figs
(Closely following Nigella Lawson's Forever Summer, in which they are described as Figs for A Thousand and One Nights)

12 Turkish or Mission figs (if medium-to-large, otherwise add more, as I did)
1/4 cup/55g unsalted butter
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 tablespoon vanilla sugar
1 1/2 teaspoons rosewater
1 1/2 teaspoons orange-flower water
4 stems red currants
2 1/4 cups/510g mascarpone cheese
1/2 cup slivered almonds, toasted

1) Quarter the figs without pushing your paring knife through the base of each fig. The key is to leave them open-mouthed. Place them cosily in a baking dish that can withstand the heat of the broiler.
2) Melt butter in a saucepan before adding the cinnamon, sugar, and garden-scented waters. Stir to combine and pour over the figs.
3) Pull red currants from their stems with the tines of a fork and scatter over the figs.
4) Fire up the broiler, and once it is fierce, put the figs under it and blister them for a few minutes.
5) Serve figs with a dollop of mascarpone and strew with almonds.

Not only does this capture the heat of Provence, where figs are abundant, but its magical properties, by way of the waters, lift one on the cloudless skies of Summer. This is the perfect dish to which one should watch the exquisite Jean de Florette and Manon of the Spring. After the viewing, knock back a pastis and contemplate the philosophical debates addressed in these films.

Labels: Figs, Nigella Lawson, Weekend Cookbook Challenge

If I were still in New Zealand, I'm not sure that I would have participated in this month's Weekend Cookbook Challenge, for the theme is Red and White. What food has these colours during Winter? There is salsify, parsnip, and...what? Red onions maybe. And that is a bit of a stretch. Under the glorious Summer sun of Southern California, I find almost too much inspiration. Clearly, I am just difficult.




Reading Suzanne Goin's Sunday Suppers At Lucques has been a great ally in almost one year of cooking, and I purposely left it in the US for me to come back to. It was the first text I turned to for inspiration. I especially liked the sound of Ms. Goin's Roman Cherry Tart, though it technically falls under her Spring collection of menus, and I did not fancy making pastry - not yet anyway. The cherry compote sounded promising; it got the ball rolling.

For my first home-cooked meal back in the States - that I cooked, I mean - I did not want to miss out on using fennel, which is expensive and does not seem to be available all year in Auckland. And I have been having serious withdrawal issues. Roasted vegetables is a fabulous idea for a Summer lunch, but white vegetables? Ugh...I couldn't figure out what to do until I rummaged through the vials of spices...fennel seeds. Now we're talking.

I pretty much followed Ms. Goin's Sweet Cherry Compote, but used half the amount of cherries, more vanilla bean and kept the same amount of brandy (she suggests using grappa, too, if you happen to have any on hand). Of course, use whatever cut of meat you prefer - I'm just a thighs kinda guy. (Sorry, if you're vegan or vegetarian - you're on your own here.) We served these with a simple salad of mixed leaves (radicchio and romaine), walnuts, and a vinaigrette.

Sweet Cherry Compote
(From Suzanne Goin's Sunday Suppers At Lucques)

1/2 tablespoon cornstarch
1/2 tablespoon and 1/5 cup water
1 vanilla bean
1/5 cup sugar
1 pound cherries, pitted
2 tablespoons brandy

1) Make a slurry by stirring 1/2 tablespoon of water into the cornstarch. Reserve.
2) Split the vanilla bean, empty the innards out into a medium sized saucepan with a paring knife. Throw the now hollow pod in, too.
3) Add sugar (not in a mound, but scattered all over the base of the saucepan) and 1/5 cup of water.
4) Turn heat on to medium and cook the mixture without stirring.
5) When the mixture turns an amber colour, swirl the saucepan to ensure even colouring.
6) Once darker amber, add the cherries and swirl the pan.
7) Pour the brandy over the vanilla and caramel-slicked cherries, then turn down the heat to low, allowing the cherries to simmer and soften.
8) Take the cherries out with a small sieve and put them in a bowl. Keep aside.
9) Turn heat up to medium-high and stir the slurry into the juices. Keep stirring until liquid has thickened (approximately 90 seconds).
10) Pour liquid over the cherries, stir, and let cool. The cherries should hold their shape but will easily yield to the touch (or teeth!).

Pan-Fried Chicken Thighs with a Fennel Seed Crust

4 chicken thighs, approximately 1.25 pounds, at room temperature
2 tablespoons fennel seeds
1 teaspoon Kosher salt
1 teaspoon black pepper
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 tablespoon white wine vinegar

1) With a mortar and pestle, crush the fennel seeds, salt, and pepper, or at least until reasonably ground. You don't have to be perfect here if you don't mind munching on the odd whole seed or two.
2) Cover both sides of the chicken thighs with the fennel seed powder.
3) In a 10"/25cm frying pan, swirl in the olive oil and turn the heat up to high.
4) Put the chicken thighs in the pan, skin-side down.
5) Once the skin is golden, flip the thighs over. This could take 6-8 minutes.
6) Fry on the other side until the thighs are cooked all the way through, approximately 3 minutes.

This is a beautiful pairing. Sweet but not tooth-achingly so on account of the savoury dimensions of the fennel seeds. You can serve your glorious red cherry compote in a separate bowl for people to help themselves to or even serve it on the side of the chicken. Instead of crossing both knife and fork over to a pile of compote, I spread the compote around the chicken. This does not make for a glamourous presentation, but it ensures that I easily get a cherry half with each mouthful of chicken.

Labels: Cherry, Chicken, Suzanne Goin, Weekend Cookbook Challenge

The theme of Weekend Cookbook Challenge # 16 is Something New. This is indeed a very relaxed theme, open to myriad interpretations. The dilemma for me was the angle to take with this theme: My most recent cookery book? A new ingredient? A Kiwi standard that I had not yet cooked? Whilst spending a very late night in bed after reading through yet another theoretical text to help orient the research for my master's thesis, cookery books up around my ears, open, half-opened, forming dangerous, sloping piles that threatened my existence with every change of position I made in bed, I came across a chapter in Silvena Rowe's Feasts: Food for Sharing from Central and Eastern Europe: the Boyar Table.

Intrigued? I was, too.

Though the boyars' supremacy ended in Russia in the 18th century when the Boyar Duma was abolished by Peter the Great, these highest-ranking military officials had wide-reaching power that extended to much of Central and Eastern Europe until the 19th century. Their power and wealth afforded them concomitant indulgence and opulence, propelling a revolutionary change in the culinary arts of this variegated region after bringing Western Europe's top chefs into the fray. You will have heard of chicken Kiev, beef Stroganoff, and veal Orloff - these were all created during this era of now classical cuisine.

I was drawn to Chicken Satsivi, a Georgian dish, because of the sauce, satsivi, which is a paste of walnuts, sauteed onions, coriander, and garlic, liquidized with a broth and perfumed with cinnamon and paprika. If you ask me, it was all too tempting, especially with the temperatures dropping in Auckland; a toasty, nutty sauce was both appealing and new - at least to me. According to Ms. Rowe, satsivi is the most popular sauce made in Georgian households, and it can accompany vegetables, fish, and turkey, in addition to chicken.

It took forever and a day to grind the walnuts because they bind together so quickly, so I suggest that you grind the paste's ingredients in small batches. If you do not have powdered marigold and are going to use saffron, steep it in hot water for 15 minutes first, which will colour the water wonderfully. This might actually give more warmth to the paste instead of just throwing it in with the chicken broth, like I did, consequently not making the resulting colour look very appetizing (brownish-grey).

The following recipe serves 4 (or 2 very hungry people!).

Chicken Satsivi
(from Silvena Rowe's Feasts: Food for Sharing from Central and Eastern Europe)

For the chicken:
10g or 1/3oz butter
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
4 chicken breasts, skinned and boned
salt and pepper

For the sauce:
25g or 1oz butter
1 large onion, peeled and finely chopped
300g or 10 1/2oz shelled walnuts
a small bunch of fresh coriander, chopped
4 cloves garlic, peeled and chopped
1 small dried chilli pepper
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon powdered marigold or saffron
1/2 teaspoon sweet paprika
175ml or 6 fl oz chicken stock
60ml or 2 1/4 fl oz white wine vinegar
salt and pepper

Start with the sauce:
1) In a heavy non-stick pan, melt butter, then saute onion until translucent.
2) Place walnuts, coriander, garlic, chilli pepper in a blender and combine to a paste.
3) Add sauteed onions to the paste and pulse in the blender to combine.
4) Place paste in the pan, and over a low heat add cinnamon, marigold or saffron, and paprika. Mix well and then stir in salt and pepper.
5) Grudually stir in the chicken broth and finally stir in the white wine vinegar.
6) Cook on a low heat, stirring occasionally, until the sauce has thickened, approximately 25 mins.

As the sauce is thickening, move on to the chicken breasts:
1) Over moderately high heat, melt butter in a frying pan and add the oil.
2) Salt and pepper both sides of the chicken breasts before browning in the frying pan. Brown in batches, approximately 2 minutes on each side, otherwise the breasts will steam and not caramelize properly. A 10" pan should contain all 4 average sized chicken breasts once browned.
3) Turn heat down to medium and slowly cook chicken breasts until done, approximately 15 minutes, turning halfway through.

If you would like the sauce to be thicker, simply add 1/2 tablespoon of flour, stir in well, and cook for another minute or so. This dish can be served either warm or cold. Simply slice the chicken breasts on the diagonal and pour the sauce over.

I know that the colour is not exactly hunger-inducing, but I have to say that the lingering taste of the sauce is interesting, haunting almost. There is a lot of mellow sweetness from the walnuts and garlic that is contrasted with the sharpness of the coriander and white wine vinegar. The palate gets a full workout, and this flavour profile is definitely something new to me.

Labels: Chicken, Silvena Rowe, Walnuts, Weekend Cookbook Challenge

  How does one recapture Paris at home? Plenty of cookery books have tried to answer this question, such as the most recent notable, Ina Garten's Barefoot in Paris, and Daniel Young's great recipe compilation of The Bistros, Brasseries and Wine Bars of Paris: Everyday Recipes from the Real Paris. I suppose it is really best to wait longer and see what comes to mind. For now though, my angelheart Eric and I miss going to the Coquelicot boulangerie in Montmartre and watching an old lady walk her strangely svelte German Shepherd every morning.

The food in Paris is much like any other city in that there are plenty of hits and misses, both categories in which we did well at striking. France really is known for its hearty fare, pastries (give me a religieuse - coffee or chocolate - any day, any time), and breads. Of course there are those dining institutions that step outside the bounds a little, such as: Fogón, a modern paella and tapas themed restaurant in the bustling Quartier Latin, which served an incredible paella valencia, redolent of pork and saffron; Pitchi Poï, a Jewish restaurant tucked away in a square in what is probably the best place for regular shoppers with a good eye (i.e. those not intent on taking out a second mortgage to shop on the Champs-Elysées or the Rue Saint Honoré), the Marais, which is famous for their blinis and vodkas...and I can vouch for their caramel vodka (!); and L'Écaille de la Fontaine near the gorgeous Opéra Garnier, which serves mostly seafood, so my angelheart Eric was incredibly satisfied - especially with his fat oysters. For traditional fare, the best places we went to were La Poule Au Pot, located near the Louvre, where one is served elegant and substantial mains (my angelheart Eric had a divine braised chicken with morrels, and for dessert I had the most gorgeous profiteroles with pistachio ice cream...Heaven!); and Le Repaire de Cartouche, whose creative chef offered, among other things, lamb terrine with figs and deer on mustard leaves and chanterelles.

The ingredients that most evoke French food to me are tarragon and leeks. So it is on the return from Paris that I use Jerry Traunfeld's fabulous The Herbal Kitchen to not only recreate a little bit of France but also to use as my submission to Weekend Cookbook Challenge #13, for which one is to use their latest acquired cookery book - well, it was the last one I acquired before going to Paris. Mr. Traunfeld's recipe calls for boneless, skinless chicken breasts, but I used bone-in, skin on chicken thighs, which I browned after sprinkling with kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper before embarking on the rest of the recipe. When using leeks, make sure to wash them properly because sand settles in the leaves. I chopped the leeks thinly then put them in a bowl of water to rest while the sand sunk to the bottom of the bowl and then repeated the process twice more.

Tarragon Chicken Thighs with Buttered Leeks
(from Jerry Traunfeld's The Herbal Kitchen)

2 cups thinly sliced leeks, white and green parts only
2 cups chicken broth
4 tablespoons (56.5g) butter
1 1/2 pounds chicken thighs (or boneless, skinless chicken breasts)
Kosher salt
black pepper, freshly ground
2 teaspoons fresh lemon juice
2 tablespoons coarsley chopped tarragon

1) Put leeks in a large skillet with chicken broth and half of the butter and cook at a gently boil over medium heat until leeks are tender and the broth has boiled down such that the leeks are not completely submerged in the liquid.
2) If using boneless, skinless chicken breasts, sprinkle both sides with salt and pepper. If using chicken thighs, do as stated in paragraph preceding the recipe.
3) Place chicken on top of simmering leeks and spoon some of the leeks over the chicken.
4) Cover skillet tightly, reduce flame to low.
5) Check chicken for doneness, approximately 10 minutes if using boneless, skinless chicken breasts (15 minutes if the breasts are large), and 20 minutes if using bone-in, skin on, chicken thighs.
6) When the chicken is done, lift the pieces from the leeks and put on a warm platter.
7) Increase flame under leeks to high and stir in the lemon juice, remaining half of butter, and the tarragon. When the butter melts, taste the sauce and add salt and pepper according to your preference.
8) To serve: Pour leek sauce over chicken pieces.

I love the sharpness of the lemon and the creaminess of the leeks. I am glad that I decided to go with the chicken thighs because they gave a very light crunch, allowing for some play on the tongue; otherwise, it might have been too much like soft hospital food, however tasty.

Labels: Chicken, Jerry Traunfeld, Weekend Cookbook Challenge

It was very kind of Sara at i like to cook to allow me to host a Weekend Cookbook Challenge. It was fun to receive everyone's submissions, mostly on account of the fact that we food bloggers are from all over the world and with varying tastes...it had completely slipped my mind that some of the entries would come from the Southern Hemisphere, but the skilled bloggers got around that by coming up versatile stews. This gets to the heart of what a stew dish is all about - it is comforting, nourishing, and economical in that it can use what one has on hand. I hope that the theme was enjoyed by all. Now to the fun stuff...










Sara of the delicious i like to cook presents us with two gorgeous entries. The first of which is this Chinese Style Stew, which uses both sherry and tamari. The recipe is adapted from Company's Coming: Stews, Chilies, and Chowders.









Sara's second mouth-watering stew, and continuing her own global theme, is a Moroccan Stew, which is served with a mildly sweet and spicy cinnamon couscous. The recipe also comes from Company's Coming: Stews, Chilies, and Chowders.

Making the most of local ingredients, Maikopunk at It's A Good Thing I'm Book Smart made a gorgeous-looking Chulitna Moosemeat Stew. I'm very curious to know how it tastes. The recipe comes from the Best of the Best from Alaska Cookbook.

If there is anyone that has got the art of stew making under his or her belt, it is Ruth of Once Upon A Feast. This time she has submitted a dish of her own design, an Easy Oven Stew from her cookery book, Every Kitchen Tells Its Stories: Recipes to Warm the Heart.

Rachel at Rachel's Bite has come up with a Crosscut Stump Stew, which serves "one lumberjack or six people". The recipe is taken from comedienne Amy Sedaris' I Like You: Hospitality Under the Influence.

Ani at Foodie Chickie delights us with a Donna Hay recipe, Red Thai Beef Curry. The recipe is taken from one of Ms. Hay's most popular cookery books, Donna Hay Classics 1.

From Portland, Oregon, Michelle of Je Mange La Ville submits a gorgeous looking Moroccan Style Chickpea Stew. Her recipe is taken from Robin Robertson's Fresh from the Vegetarian Slow Cooker.

After overcoming some functional issues with her crock pot, Breadchick at The Sour Dough sent in a chicken stew that is made with lima beans and egg noodles, Brunswick Stew. The recipe is taken from Mable Hoffman's Crockery Cookery, Revised Edition.

Fellow antipodean, Anh, of Food Lover's Journey provides us living in the Northern Hemisphere with a balmy hit of South East Asia with her stew for all seasons, Vietnamese Fish Braised in Caramel Sauce.

Pavani of Cook's Hideout presents a glorious vegetarian number, Ratatouille. For this much loved stew, Pavani uses a recipe from Best Ever Vegetarian Cookbook, which is edited by Nicola Graimes.

From the South of France, Jennifer at Chez Loulou gives us her Chicken and Dumpling Stew. Unfortunately, Jennifer and her guests ate the stew before Jennifer could take a photo of it (don't worry, I've done that too, Jennifer!), so we are left to imagine the result using the photo of her ingredients as a reference point. The recipe is from Emeril Lagasse's Louisiana Real and Rustic.

Simone at Time To Cook sends us her gorgeous stew, a take on Nigel Slater's Chicken and Stew Mash. The recipe comes from Mr. Slater's wonderful The Kitchen Diaries.






Also using a British cookery book as a guide, Angie over at Asininity, Frivolity, Inanity demonstrates her stewing prowess with Spicy Bean Stew with Sausages. The recipe comes from Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall's The River Cottage Family Cookbook.

Ulrike of Küchenlatein has made a stew using lentils, one of my parents' favourite stew ingredients, in her Sweet N Sour Lentil Soup.

Also taking the soup route is Meeta over at What's For Lunch, Honey?. She sends us a colourful Coconut & Mango Soup.

My good friend Freya of the well-written and inspirational Writing At the Kitchen Table delights us with her entry, Lamb Shanks with Pearl Barley and Rioja, a restorative stew if ever there was one. Freya serves this with a vintage species of potato which is actually blue.

Adding to the heartiness of Freya's stew is my Gulyas. The recipe is from Silvena Rowe's Feasts: Food for Sharing from Central and Eastern Europe.










Chris of Experimentation of Taste submits a very hearty-looking Creamy Clam Chowder. The recipe comes from November 2003's edition of Everyday Food.

Lis of La Mia Cucina made good use of the internet to source her dish: allrecipes.com. She submits a tasty looking Kielbasa Stew.

The theme for Weekend Cookbook Challenge # 13 is to cook anything from your latest acquisition. The deadline is 5 February, 2007. Please send all entries to Sara at iliketocook [at] shaw [dot] ca.

I've already started flipping though my latest cookery book purchase, Jerry Traunfeld's The Herbal Kitchen, and am most excited. Thanks for participating in Weekend Cookbook Challenge # 12, especially while it took place over the holiday period.

Labels: Weekend Cookbook Challenge

  Other than Middle Eastern food, my other great food love are those from Central and Eastern Europe. I love the combinations of sour cherries and almonds, horseradish and beets with sour cream, caraway seeds and basil...One of my favorite cookery book purchases last year was Silvena Rowe's Feasts: Food for Sharing from Central and Eastern Europe, an overview of regional dishes and styles (a review will soon follow - it has been a while since I gave one!).

In Feasts, Gulyas (goulash) is given as a soup, but I doubled the amount of meat to make it more of a stew to satisfactory results. Amongst many foodies, there is much concern about being "authentic". Because gulyas is a national dish, it is difficult to find the definitive recipe. This is a dish that has been passed down from one generation to the next, with each family and region shaping the dish to its own tastes or to what is available. There are, however, the markings that define a gulyas: green peppers, caraway seeds, and loads of paprika, which gives it not only heat and sweetness, but the famous scarlet gorgeousness for which the dish is internationally recognized.

Gulyas
(from Silvena Rowe's Feasts: Food for Sharing from Central and Eastern Europe)

4 tablespoons vegetable oil
2 large onion, peeled and chopped
2 pounds good stewing beef, cut into 1 1/4 inch (3 cm) cubes
2 garlic cloves, peeled and crushed
1 teaspoon caraway seeds
4 tablespoons noble (sweet) paprika
4 pints (2 1/4 litres) water
4 medium tomatoes, chopped
2 sweet green peppers, seeded and thinly chopped
1 pound potatoes
salt and pepper

1) Heat vegetable oil over medium heat in a dutch oven/heavy-bottomed casserole.
2) Add onion and saute until translucent.
3) Add beef and saute with onion until browned.
4) Stir in garlic and caraway seeds.
5) Remove dutch oven from heat and add paprika (otherwise it will turn bitter), and stir constantly until it is well absorbed by the meat.
6) Add the water, bring to a boil, then simmer for approximately one hour. Check that the meat is cooked to your liking before proceeding.
7) Add tomatoes, pepper, and potatoes, followed by salt and pepper.
8) Simmer for 30 minutes, then serve hot.

"Traditionally" one serves this with dumplings, but my angelheart Eric and I helped ourselves to toasted garlic bread. You should all know by now how much my angelheart and I love hearty food, and that is what makes this stew such a natural choice for the Weekend Cookbook Challenge. Because each ingredient is quite different, there is a trace of them all in each bite, including that one little teaspoon of bitter and mild anise flavor of the caraway seeds. The stew smells wonderful, tastes incredible, and hits the spot.

May your stewing be as enjoyable!

Labels: Silvena Rowe, Weekend Cookbook Challenge

I'm sure that if anyone stops by this blog, he or she has likely already been by Sara's at i like to cook. It was Sara who masterminded this blog event with the hope that people would pull out their old cookery books and/or actually use their new ones. For me, this has been rewarding because in the quest to fulfill the theme of the monthly Weekend Cookbook Challenges, I have found what has now become a staple at the dining table, Hamam Mahshi bil Burghul (a small bird, such as a poussin, squab, or cornish game hen, stuffed with the aromatic combination of bulgur wheat, raisins, and pine nuts). I don't actually have any old cookery books as I'm relatively new to exploring in the kitchen on a voluntary basis, but I have indeed turned to my collection with delight and have turned out wonderful meals. The last hit seemed to be the Muhammara that I made for the party food theme of last month's Weekend Cookbook Challenge #11, which you can read all about here.

So, this month's theme is stew. The wonderful thing about stews is that they are mostly one-pot-meals. The main differences between stews and braises, for which I have been asked, is that stews consist of lots of pieces of meat that have been submerged in cooking liquid, whereas braises are of one big piece of meat that has cooking liquid reaching but 3/4 or so of the way up it (never submerged). Both techniques yield moist meat, and stews in particular are an appetizing way to use inexpensive cuts of meat (usually of the tendinous and sinewy variety).

Because stews are the pillar of most cultures' winter meals, it should come as no surprise to anyone that stew is the theme of Weekend Cookbook Challenge #12. There are plenty of exciting recipes out there; I'm presently up to my knees in cookery books, deciding on which to make and submit to the Weekend Cookbook Challenge.

Sara and I are aware that it is indeed the holiday season and that most people may not feel like participating. We purposely made the "deadline" early in 2007 to allow people who may want to participate a chance to do so after the delightful though stressful madness of Christmas, Chanukah, Kwanzaa, and celebrations for the New Year.

Please e-mail your submission to me at kitchenaglow AT yahoo DOT com on or by 5 January 2007.

Labels: Weekend Cookbook Challenge

I know, I know. It has been a while since I last participated in a Weekend Cookbook Challenge (WCC), but for WCC #9 I spent so much time deciding what dish from my homeland to make that I missed the deadline, and for WCC #10 I didn't have a kitchen gadget that I hadn't used quite a bit, so I didn't even "qualify" for that one.

This is actually my second attempt to type this post because as I was doing it last night, in an effort to meet the deadline as we ate the "Party Food", my angelheart Eric knocked a stack of cookbooks off a chair ledge and they landed on the power strip! So, everything went down, and, of course, the server does not "emergency save" documents as does Windows. It was well after 10pm then, and I just decided I'd try again as soon as I got up this morning.

So, I've given away the theme to WCC #11 already: Party Food. Isn't every meal an invitation to party for us foodies? My angelheart Eric and I often host little dinner parties, wine tasting parties, and big events parties (mostly New Year's Eve), so I really wasn't sure how to tackle this month's theme. I just decided on something simple, for most of us are still full from feasting at Thanksgiving meals. The small party number went from five to three (including the hosts!). It was to be seen as a catch up over finger food, and it ended up being quite a lot to eat for 3, and we ate quite a bit of it over the course of a couple of hours. I made two types of dip, Bagna Cauda (from The Stinking Rose Restaurant Cookbook) and Muhamarra (from Claudia Roden's The New Book of Middle Eastern Food), Zucchini Frittata (it was meant to be zucchini fritters, but the batter kept sticking to the frying pan; the recipe is mostly modeled after one from Claudia Roden's fabulous Arabesque), and Brandy Creme Brulee (there is almost no need to cite a reference as I could have done this with my eyes closed, but the inspiration to add brandy came from Debbie Puente's Elegantly Easy Creme Brulee that my darling friend Lily gave to me almost two years ago). My angelheart Eric made Chicken Pieces Marinated in a Light Satay - his own recipe.

When I first moved to the U.S., my angelheart and I often had dinners with friends in Beverly Hills at The Stinking Rose, a garlic-themed restaurant. It is a high energy restaurant (on account of its lively staff and individually-themed rooms) with great food that is made consistently well (usually if I like something a lot the first time, I order it time and again). I always made sure there was bagna cauda (hot bath) on the table. I could have used Tamasin Day-Lewis' recipe from Tamasin's Weekend Food, but I wanted to recapture something from my early days in the U.S., and it has been a really long time since my angelheart and I were last at The Stinking Rose.

Bagna Cauda
(from Andrea Froncilla and Jennifer Jeffrey's The Stinking Rose Restaurant Cookbook)

2 1/2 cups garlic cloves, skins intact (about 3 heads of garlic)
2 cups olive oil
1/4 cup unsalted butter (56.5g), cut into bits
6 anchovy fillets in olive oil (the recipe calls for a whole 2oz can)

1) Preheat oven to 275 deg. f. (135 deg. c.).
2) Put garlic cloves into a baking dish (either cermaic or heavy glass is suggested, but it worked well in our pink(!) stoneware LeCreuset baking dish).
3) Pour olive oil over garlic.
4) Sprinkle butter over garlic.
5) Lay anchovy fillets in a single layer on top.
6) Cover with aluminium foil and bake until clovers are easily squishable (preferably dense and limp - approximately 1 1/2 hours).
7) To serve: Use a spoon to slot out one clove and use the back of the spoon to press out the garlic onto a slice of baguette or focaccia.

Muhammara is a walnut and pomegranate relish that is made in Turkey and Syria. Each component adds incredible depth to an all-too-simple accompaniment: the walnuts provide the nubbly texture, the pomegranate syrup gives the tart-yet-sweet high notes, while the cumin adds the smokey low-note. Served with cripsy pita bread, which we toasted in the oven after cutting into chips and sprinkling over a combination of kosher salt and flaky smoked Manuka honey sea salt.





Muhammara
(From Claudia Roden's The New Book of Middle Eastern Food)

1 1/4 cups shelled walnuts (or walnut pieces, if you can get them)
1 1/2 tablespoons tomato paste
1 slice whole-wheat bread, crusts removed, lightly toasted
1/2 cup extra-virgin olive oil
2 tablespoons pomegranate syrup
1 teaspoon coarsley ground red-pepper flakes
1 teaspoon ground cumin (I love that hit of smokiness that wafts up when milling cumin seeds with the pestle)
2 teaspoons sugar
salt, to taste

1) Blend all ingredients to a rough paste in a food processor.

That could not get any easier, and it is worth trying because it is an unusually sweet "dip" that had my angelheart Eric and the divine poetess Suzanne guessing the ingredients.

The Turkish Zucchini Fritters (kabak mucveri) a la Claudia Roden did not work out because I didn't know what a finely chopped zucchini should look like (not the same as an onion, surely) and because we do not have a non-stick pan. So, we made a frittata-like dish out of it, and it worked out fine. It was an innocuous creamy background filler for the rest of the goodies.

Zucchini Frittata
(Inspired by Claudia Roden's Kabak Mucveri from Arabesque)

1 large onion, coarsley chopped
3 tablespoons vegetable oil (or sunflower oil)
1 pound zucchini, finely chopped (2 medium sized zucchini)
3 eggs
3 tablespoons all-purpose flour
black pepper, to taste
3 sprigs mint, chopped
2 sprigs dill (or 3, if you prefer, but I don't), chopped
7oz feta cheese, mashed with a fork (I used a Bulgarian feta because I had Silvena Rowe's Feasts on my mind when shopping...)

1) Fry onion in the oil over medium heat until soft and lightly colored.
2) Add zucchini and saute until soft.
3) Preheat oven to 325 deg. f. (about 165 deg. c.).
4) In a bowl, beat eggs with flour until well blended.
5) Add pepper and chopped herbs to egg mixture and mix well.
6) Fold mashed feta into egg and herb mixture with the onions and zucchini.
7) This is where I divurge from Claudia's path: Film bottom of frying pan with oil, pour in mixture and cook for 7 minutes.
8) Cook in oven until cooked on top and golden brown at the sides.

The chicken pieces not only provided us with something quite substantial but a different flavor note. I think the success behind good finger food is a range of textures and flavours. Eric liked putting Muhammara on the chicken fingers for a multi-dimensional flavour sensation :-)









Chicken Pieces in a Light Satay
(My angelheart Eric's own recipe)

2/3 cup soy sauce
1 1/2 tablespoons sesame oil
2 tablespoons satay paste
1 tablespoon honey
1 1/2 tablespoons peanut butter
juice of one lime
2 tablespoons dry vermouth
1 medium serrano chilis, chopped (ribs removed if you don't want the heat)
1 handful basil, roughly chopped
4 cloves garlic, roughly chopped
pinch of salt
1/4 cup water
2 pounds chicken pieces (about 24 drumettes)

1) Combine all but water in a food procssor.
2) Pour mixture out into a big bowl and stir in the water.
3) Add chicken to marinade and leave in refrigerator for four hours but preferably overnight.
4) Preheat oven to 300 deg. f. (about 150 deg. c.).
5) Bring chicken pieces to room temperature before laying them out on a baking sheet.
6) Cook in oven until chicken cooked through, about 40 minutes.

Creme Brulee is one of the first desserts I ever tried to make because of its simple yet elegant composition. When I finally (i.e. slowly) realized that what was beneath the burnt sugar was basically a custard, I turned to making creme brulee myself. The "Party Food" version, keeping with the theme of small and easy to eat, includes 1/4 cup brandy (for 6 creme brulees, mind you). My angelheart Eric and the divine poetess Suzanne loved it; I thought it was a little heavy-handed. Too much alcohol, in my view, overpowers the elegance of this dessert. Next time I will use less booze (not something you will hear me say too often), and maybe amaretto instead.

Brandy Creme Brulee
(inspired by Debbie Puente's Elegantly Easy Creme Crulee, and she suggests cognac instead of brandy, but we didn't have any on hand)

7 egg yolks
1/3 cup granulated sugar
2 cups heavy cream
1/4 cup brandy or cognac
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 teaspoon sugar per ramekin, for the brulee

1) Preheat oven to 300 deg. f. (150 deg. c.).
2) In a large bowl, whisk together egg yolks and sugar until mixture is thick and pale yellow.
3) Combine cream and brandy, then add to egg mixture with vanilla and whisk until well blended.
4) Strain into a bowl, skimming off foam.
5) Divide mixture among six ramekins or custard cups.
6) Put ramekins on a rimmed baking sheet or roasting pan, and fill vessel up with hot water until it comes halfway up the ramekins (this is a bain marie and what it does it to moderate the temperature of the yolks so they do not harden...no one ones a scambled egg brulee for dessert).
7) Bake until set around the edges but still loose in the center - 40 to 50 mintues.
8) Take ramekins out of bain marie and chill for at least two hours or up to two days.
9) When ready to serve, sprinkle approximately one tablespoon of sugar over the surface of the custard and blast with a kitchen torch. If you do not have a kitchen torch, put under a broiler until the sugar has melted.

Everything was easy to make and is enough to feed six...

Labels: Claudia Roden, Weekend Cookbook Challenge

I decided to participate in the eighth Weekend Cookbook Challenge (WCC), putting a cookery book of choice to practical use. Truthfully, I use my cookbooks whenever I cook, but I haven't quite gotten around to using all of them yet, and being required to use them makes the compulsive cookery book shopper in all of us feel less guilty; the idea behind WCC is thus beneficial as one feels simultaneously accomplished and spiritually cleansed. The theme for this WCC is a foreign dish, one that is foreign to the cook, that is.

I'm sure that half of the dilemma in submitting to WCC is deciding which cookery book to use. Fortunately, I knew from the outset that I wanted to make a small meal (main dish, side vegetable plate, and dessert) from Claudia Roden's magnificent The New Book of Middle Eastern Food. Because the Middle East is a vast area and is constituted of many cultures, it was very difficult to decide what to make. I resolved myself to making dishes from Ms. Roden's country of birth, Egypt. I served Hamam Mahshi bil Burghul (poussin/squab/pigeon stuffed with bulgur wheat, raisins and pine nuts), Bamia bel Takleya (okra with garlic and ground coriander/cilantro), and Assabih bi Loz (almond fingers).

How did it all taste?

I could not find poussins when shopping, so, sticking to the small bird notion, I bought cornish hens instead. The coarse bulgur wheat that was cooked inside the hens absorbed the hens' juices and made for a most flavorful and comforting accompaniment to the tender and juicy hens.

I wanted to make the okra dish because I had never used okra before - I'm not even sure if it is available in New Zealand because I had never heard of it before moving to the U.S. Knowing in advance that badly cooked okra resulted in a slimey mess, I was prepared to not enjoy the result, but it didn't turn out slimey at all (perhaps due to cutting off the stems and caps). The seeds contained in the okra gave the skin infused with garlic and coriander an little kick without overpowering heat.

My angelheart Eric is not a fan of orange-blossom water, but I wanted to make the almond fingers anyway since I had not worked with filo before. My goodness, how fiddly it is! One has to ensure that the sheets not in use are covered with a damp cloth so they do not dry out; they are susceptible to dry air. Fortunately, I was well-armed with this information due to Roden's clear and concise guidance. Eric thought that the almond fingers tasted like soap; I, on the other hand, like orange-blossom water and thought that the combination of the crisp filo and the almond paste made for a delicately flavoured and other-world-transporting dessert. I miscalculated the amount of almond I needed, so I added walnuts that I had on hand, but this is not a real deviation as Ms. Roden suggests using walnuts to create a Turkish variation.

The following recipes take into account my ingredient subsitutions and portion sizes (for two people).

Hamam Mahshi bil Burghul (Pigeon, Squab or Poussin stuffed with Bulgur, Raisins, and Pine Nuts)

2 cornish hens (approximately 1.25 pounds each)

For the marinade:
1/3 large onion, finely chopped
Juice of 1/3 lemon
2 tablespoons vegetable oil (or butter)
salt
pepper
1/2 teaspoon ground cardamom
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon allspice

For the stuffing:
1 1/2 cups chicken stock
1/3 pounds coarse bulgur wheat
salt
pepper
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 cup pine nuts
1 1/4 tablespoons vegetable oil (or butter)
1/4 cup raisins, soaked in water for 15 minutes

1) For the marinade, combine all ingredients in a blender until liquidised.
2) Marinate the birds for 30 minutes (for deeper flavour, however, the birds could stand up to being marinated for longer, which is what I will do next time).
3) For the stuffing, bring chicken stock to a boil in a pan, then add the bulgur wheat, salt, pepper, and cinnamon. Stir together, cover, and simmer for 15 minutes, or until the liquid is absorbed and the bulgur is tender.
4) Preheat oven to 350 deg. f. (180 deg. c.)
5) Fry the pine nuts in 1/3 tablepoon of vegetable oil until lightly browned.
6) Add the pine nuts, raisins, and remaining vegetable oil to the bulgur wheat and mix well.
7) Stuff the hens 2/3 with the bulgur mix, allowing room for bulgur to expand, and then secure the legs with kitchen twine (toothpicks can be used on smaller birds).
8) Rub some of the marinade on the hens, then put them in the oven spine side up for 25 minutes.
9) Turn birds over (breast side up) for 20 minutes, while at the same time roasting the remaining bulgur wheat mix covered with foil for 15-20 minutes. The birds are cooked through when the juices from the thick part of the thigh run clear.

Bamia bel Takleya (Okra with Garlic and Coriander)

1/3 pound small, young okra with stems and caps sliced off
1/3 onion, chopped
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
salt
pepper
2 cloves garlic
1 teaspoon ground coriander
1 1/2 cups water

1) Fry the onion in the 2/3 of the vegetable oil until golden.
2) Add the okra and saute gently for 5 minutes.
3) Barely cover with water, add salt and pepper, and simmer for 20 minutes or until tender.
4) Heat the garlic and coriander in the remaining 1/2 of the vegetable oil, stirring for 1 minute or until garlic is lightly coloured.
5) Stir garlic and coriander into okra, and cook for a two minutes before serving hot.

Assabih bi Loz (Almond Fingers)

1/4 pounds filo pastry sheets (approximately 4 sheets)
3/4 cup ground almonds
1/4 cup ground walnuts
1/4 cup superfine sugar
1 1/2 tablespoons orange-blossom water
3 tablespoons butter, melted
confectioners' sugar (for decoration only)

1) Mix ground almonds and walnuts with the suger and orange-blossom water.
2) Cut the filo sheets into 4 rectangular strips about 12 by 4 inches (30.5 by 10 cms) and pile them on top of each other, covering the top one with a damp cloth.
3) Preheat oven to 325 deg. f. (170 deg. c.)
3) Take the top sheet of filo, cover lightly with melted butter, and roll a heaped teaspoon of the almond filling into a sausage shape before placing it 1 inch (2 cms) from the edge of one of the short ends of the filo sheets.
4) Roll edge of filo sheet over almond filling.
5) Roll into a cigar shape, folding the longer sides slightly over the almond filling midway.
6) Place on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper (or butter the baking sheet).
7) Repeat with all filo sheets. Makes approximately 16.
8) Bake in oven for approximately 30 minutes, or until lightly golden.
9) Serve cold sprinkled with confectioners' sugar.

Labels: Claudia Roden, Weekend Cookbook Challenge