One of the benefits of moving to PA is the availability of raw milk. I have to admit that I approach this subject with some trepidation. People talk about how wonderful raw milk is, how good it tastes. To be honest I wonder. I've had milk from organic grass fed cows that was rather unpalatable. Not that it tasted bad exactly. It simply tasted like cheese. It's flavor was grassy and well, of the barnyard, in a pretty intense way. Now these tastes are admirable, even coveted, in my cheese, but in my glass or my pudding, not so much. Nevertheless we picked up some raw milk to taste and play with. We're hoping for something wonderful.
To taste fresh picked lettuce is something I thought I knew. We've eaten greens fresh from the farm before. It turns out that where the farm is and who is growing it is also important. Blue Moon Acres has started growing on a slightly larger scale and there is no comparison to the lettuces we've eaten in the past. These were tender and flavorful as well as incredibly beautiful. They only required a hint of dressing, a squeeze of lime and the pan juices from seared shrimp deglazed with a few tablespoons of wine, to make them spectacular.
*A quick tip that I learned from Peg. Lettuces can be washed in the salad spinner using the basket to drain them before whirling them dry. Perhaps everyone else already knows this although I've always used a separate bowl in the past. I learn something new every day...
We found these at our local H Mart. We were drawn in by their fuzzy, pale green beauty and pleasantly surprised to discover that they were old favorites in an unfamiliar form. One of the nice things about moving to PA is being able to visit local farms. This time we found something special in the local market. These fresh garbanzo beans were a wonderful reminder of how beautiful our food can be right off the vine.
Garbanzo beans are quite possibly the most popular legume in the world. There are two basic types. Desi garbanzos are smaller seeds with a thick, irregular skin that ranges in color from beige to black. Kabuli garbanzos are larger and lighter in color, usually appearing in creamy shades of beige and tan. Chick peas are typically a spring crop, although the seeds are easy to sprout at home on a windowsill. They are beneficial to a garden because they help deposit nitrogen into the soil without the use of fertilizer.
Chick peas are high in protein with fiber and folate. The seeds can be used fresh, dried, or ground as a flour. The young plants can be sauteed and eaten as a vegetable. The beans are hearty and satisfying and have many different uses in the kitchen. Although hummus is practically synonomous with garbanzos, they are found in many classic regional recipes such as socca, panelle, halo halo, kabuli chana dal, and falafel.
With spring in it's full glory, it is always exciting to see what inspiration blossoms in the field. During a recent trip to Blue Moon Acres we were able to smell the benefits of sun and rain. This patch of Johnny Jump Ups, a member of the violet family, reawakened my passion for edible flowers. We did a bit of research and came across a wonderful page sharing information about these and other culinary beauties, exploring more than we had thought of to pursue.
Happy Mother's Day everyone!
Observation is important. Sometimes mindless repetitive tasks may present the opportunity to become aware of things that have always existed. In cleaning red leaf lettuce for this evening's dinner I was left with two lettuce hearts. I suppose they are more like stalks or trunks, though putting names aside, we were left facing an interesting new ingredient. The lettuce trunks have a solid nature to them,on the other hand, they do not come across as tough. They may be braised or shaved thin or perhaps pickled as a unique component to a dish. The meaty nature of these trunks leads me to imagine featuring them in their full form, perhaps paired with sweetbreads or seared foie gras. We are excited about the possibilities for this previously binned element. Now we must explore the paths it will lead us down.
Pig parts are in: offal, odd cuts, improved cooking techniques, salting and brining, making salumi, BBQ and whole hog cookery. People are marveling over sucklings, rhapsodizing about heritage breeds, and we're just seeing a devotion to all things porcine. It's been building for the past couple of years and now it seems safe to say that the pig has displaced the cow as the animal of choice in the kitchen. With so many approaches and techniques to choose from we often forget the basic cut, the one that started the show, the chop. One of the enticing things about pork is that the fat is so flavorful. A great chop strikes a balance between fat and meat with enough marbling in the center to make it tender and juicy and a thick enough fat layer on the outside to form a well seasoned, caramelized crackling. I was inspired to see that chops on Aki's grocery list (she knew I was going to be by the pork store), so much so that I actually remembered to get what was written. The list started with pork chops. The end result, a fabulous dinner.
Our latest article is up over on Pop Sci. It delves a bit deeper into the incredible ingredient and staple in our kitchen agave nectar. It also brings back our granita margarita, just one use of many for the spectacular agave.
Quality and size matter. When it comes to sea urchin delicacies the large and sweet tongues from the west coast are the ones to search for. We were given some incredible west coast urchin yesterday and after working out a chaud froid of sorts with cream of cauliflower, the extra sea urchin became the spark for a number of combinations and micro dishes. One pairing which worked incredibly well with this pristine sea urchin is a coconut-turnip puree accented with tender cocoa nibs.
Lardo plus liquid nitrogen plus the ever campy culinary term blitzing produces one of our favorite powders
to date: powdered lardo. The process enables us to create an extremely light and airy product which adds richness to dishes in a delicate manner. We have also just spooned the powdered lardo high on grilled toast and indulged in the decadence. When summer returns we may add some tomatoes to the toast though for now the lardo paired with Nantucket Bay scallops is a match we thankfully found.
Timing is everything. We stopped in at Murray's Cheese on Friday afternoon after a meeting to pick up some cheese for some recipes we are working through. Since we were there we decided to pick up some cheeses for dinner. We took a number and began perusing the case while we waited. Our usual routine for a cheese dinner is to pick up three cheeses: one runny, one creamy, and one semi soft. Our number was called quickly and we began to discuss with our cheese monger.
Interestingly there was a chef on line before us who chose to wait for another cheese guy and waved us ahead. As it turned out, our guy was personable and enthusiastic, although not the most knowledgeable of the counter people. No matter, our favorite cheese monger was absent and we were confident that we could find what we were
looking for. As we discussed cheeses, it turned out that what we wanted was right in front of us. I noticed a few round containers stacked in the back of the display and nudged Alex immediately. "Is that..." It was, the first Vacherin Mont d'Or of the season. So new in fact that our guy hadn't even realized that is was there. Someone else mentioned that they had arrived only hours beforehand and that they expected to be sold out by the end of the day. Score. It was the perfect cheese to be the centerpiece of our dinner. Expensive as heck and totally worth the splurge.
As a side note, although the sign in the case stated that it was a raw milk cheese, the cashier informed us that it was actually thermalised. According to the Mont d"Or website the term is actually thermised. Although they don't go into detail it appears that the milk is gently heat treated in some way to reduce bacteria while preserving flavor.
Once home we let the cheese sit out for almost 24 hours because something came up and dinner had to be postponed. As luck would have it that appeared to be exactly the amount of time needed for the Vacherin to reach its peak. When we opened the cheese and lifted off the top rind it was thing of beauty. Perfectly tempered and elastic, it was soft enough for a spoon and still firm enough to give it some plasticity and texture. The flavor was earthy and slightly salty, with a pungent, almost ashy savor reminiscent of French Meunster (another favorite of mine). We had a crusty, almost blackened loaf of Sullivan St. Bakery Pane Pugliese, a salad of crunchy romaine and marinated artichoke hearts, prosciutto cotto, and an American-made Serrano style Ham whose name escapes me (and isn't on the label from Murray's). Frankly I pretty much focused in on the cheese, bread, and salad. The rest was gravy. A perfect cheese is a beautiful thing. It was definitely a meal to remember.
I have had an incredibly difficult time finding the point cut of a brisket. The reason for my quest is that is the piece I prefer in pastrami. While pondering alternatives I considered beef cheeks and short ribs and moved on because I enjoy them as they are, not cured and treated in the style of pastrami. Then I remembered a reference in the book Essence, where he braised an entire flat iron steak. The visual of the dish prompted me to look into
perhaps curing and braising the flat iron as pastrami. Since we did not have any flat iron on hand I dropped Wylie a note and to see if he had tried braising that particular cut. He had not, though he was game, and had some flat iron on hand to give a go at. He shot back an email with his results, which produced a tender product, though for a true braise he preferred short ribs and brisket. I took his results and procured a flat iron. I then set about making some pastrami.
To brine the meat I borrowed the ratios from Charcuterie and incorporated some powdered smoke so I could eliminate the actual smoking time. Once the meat was brined, I seasoned it with smoked, cracked peppercorns and then cooked it sous vide for 24 hours at 67 C. Today the cooking was done. The results are better than I imagined with an intense meaty flavor and the troublesome rubber band-like sinew, which is often removed by chefs, had been converted into a rich decadent gelatin.
Where do we go from here? The end goal is pastrami bolognese, though the tasty and toothsome results of slow cooked flat iron are starting to trigger a number of other ideas and open a few other doors. What else exists in one form that could actually yield incredible results if treated with another approach?
The leaves are changing, the sun is setting earlier, the air is crisp and clear, and apples fill the green markets. These seasonal changes also mark the time when Steve Stallard starts producing roe again. Steve is an artisan. No question about it. We have written about him before and he has also shared his own words on these pages. His commitment to excellence is not only contagious and inspiring, it is what makes cooking special.
We have been addicted to his Blis products for years now. The syrups and vinegars are usually available year round, until they sell out. The caviar season coincides with that of the fish and Steve's penchant for perfection. If the roe is not right there is no caviar for anyone. That is both a simple approach and one which can be financially crippling. Steve does not compromise. How often in life do we face two pathways? One passageway is wide and easy and the other is treacherous and much less traveled. Steve decisively chooses the harder road and we all benefit from his tough decision. The pristine roe he produces continues to be a catalyst for ideas and expressions of flavor, particularly in indulging my fetish for pairing ice cream with caviar. We just finished a dish combining wild brook trout roe with coconut-yuzu ice cream tablets, bitter tomato marmalade, and puffed coconut wild rice. The dish has been a work in progress, the key inspiration being the return of the roe. As the seasons continue to change so will the roe. I eagerly await the next batch, perhaps wild char in both natural and light smoke varieties. We shall just have to wait until we hear from Steve to find out what's next.
Here in New York, apple season is in full swing. It seems as though everywhere you look there are piles and baskets of crisp juicy fruit, just waiting to be taken home or eaten out of hand. The nice thing about living in an apple producing state is that we can actually get our hands on fresh, un-waxed specimens and enjoy them straight from the tree, if we so desire. Although we haven't been apple-picking this fall, we still hope to get out to Warwick Valley Winery, one of our favorite places to pick fruit and pick up a bit hard cider. If all goes well, we'll make it out there before the season ends.
One of our favorite apples for eating out of hand is the Honey Crisp. It's commonly believed to be a cross
bred variety, developed in Minnesota and derived from the Macoun and the Honey Gold. In 1964, DNA fingerprinting proved that neither of these varieties were the actual parents of the Honeycrisp. Instead the Keepsake variety was noted as one of the the original breeds, while the other still remains a mystery. The weather damaged tree or trees, depending upon the source, from which the Honeycrisp originated were protected and maintained by David Bedford of the University of Minesota. The cultivar wasn't released until 1991, thirty-one years after the variety was officially recorded.
In spite of its dubious parentage, the Honeycrisp has grown to be one of the most popular apples in the marketplace. They are rounded in shape with flattened tops and bottoms. mottle red and yellow skins with a cream colored flesh. The flesh has larger cells than the average apple allowing the fruit to retain larger amounts of juice. The Honeycrisp is characterized by its crisp texture and balanced, slightly floral, sweet-tart flavor. It's the type of apple that requires a napkin in hand to wipe a sticky chin from the excessive juices released when biting into the fruit. Honeycrisps are available from mid-Septemeber through mid-November and keep for up to six months when stored in refrigeration. We like to keep a big bowl of them on the dining room table for snacking, knowing full well that it's only a matter time before that apple pie makes its appearance after dinner.
We eventually turned the concord grapes we marinated with garam masala into a rich and decadent puree. The puree has good flavor release and the acidity from the grapes is balanced by their own inherent sweetness. To accent the garam masala we added a few drops of rose syrup which seemed to hone the flavor of the grapes and marry it to the aromatic and round spice notes of the garam masala.
While we eventually used this puree with a salad of sunchokes and shiso, it is quite versatile and has us thinking about pairing it with sweetbreads, scallops, foie gras, chocolate...the list continues to grow as we ponder its flavors and it possibilities.
Just when you think you have done everything, a new glimpse opens up a huge pathway of ideas. I thought we were pretty close to having smoked everything I would ever want to smoke. Boy was I wrong. Our class yesterday proved that. The class's original concept changed dramatically and I am really excited it did.
The class evolved into an exploration of cold smoke and dry ice. We explored ideas, the delivery of flavor, and the search for tasty. With watermelon rind on my mind and a fluid idea for the class slowly becoming structured, I realized that we had never smoked watermelon rind. We have smoked watermelon before, just never the rind itself. To smoke the watermelon rind we trimmed the top and bottom of two small melons so they would stand upright and used a vegetable peeler to remove the dark green skin, leaving the rind around the flesh. We put the peeled
melons in a shallow dish and cold smoked them for several hours. We were also smoking: balsamic vinegar, cider vinegar, aromatic spices, raw grits, maury vinegar, water and soy sauce.
Once the melon and its rind were smoked, we removed the flesh from the rind. We cut the rind into oblique cuts and put the red inner flesh, a handful of the smoked spices, and smoked cider vinegar in a pot. The rind was reserved on the side. We smashed the watermelon flesh, which was softened and tender, seasoned with a touch of smoke, and a more concentrated flavor from the warm heat in the smoker. The fruit released its juices, which blended with the vinegar and became infused with the spices. We strained off the seasoned juice through a chinois, pressing gently against the remnants to extract the liquid while being careful not to push the flesh through the strainer.
We returned the seasoned watermelon juice and the smoked rind to a pot and added a heavy dose of Steen's cane syrup. A pinch of salt and then a long, slow boil, skimming as needed, allowed me to realize my version of the pickled watermelon rind I was inspired by just two days ago. I should also note this was the first time in years that I have worked with pure cane syrup, an incredible product which will now become a staple in our kitchen. We were informed during the class that Steen's also makes a cane syrup vinegar. While we have not tried it yet, I can only imagine its complexity and usefulness in the kitchen.
It hit me like an idea I should have thought of years ago. Bananas and bone marrow are quite similar in texture, shape, and color. The major difference between the two is taste. Even taste may be subjective, especially when seasoning either the bananas or the bone marrow. Now we begin to look at how to marry the two, pondering the best way to introduce complementary flavors, trying to utilize the texture of these two ingredients in conjunction with crisper and sharper textures.
A key point in looking at similarities is to realize that while they can be interchanged or paired together, greatness can be discovered by emphasizing their individual characteristics and then substituting one for the other. In a similar vein, the juxtaposition of ingredients can be dangerous. Taking the idea too far will make a dish too cute or just plain bad.
While we are just beginning to look at these two ingredients together, the pairing, or rather the association of textures and aesthetics must be looked at carefully so that what we end up with is delicious and not just interesting. Both ingredients require a hint of acid and spice, perhaps accented with a wisp of smoke to balance out their inherent sweetness and rich flavors. Something crisp or crunchy is required to temper the smooth textures and an herbal note will add a welcome freshness to the compostion. This may seem like a lot of additional elements but created with a delicate hand they will come together to harmonize and highlight the main ingredients. Bananas and bone marrow, oh the places we'll go.
Alex came home from the farmer's market today with a quart of Concord grapes. The dusty looking, deep purple fruit are the stuff of grape jelly and Welch's grape juice. In their natural form they are characterized by their thick, tannic skins and distinctive sweet, almost musky flavor.
To start the process, the grapes have been washed and vacuumed sealed with garam masala in a bag to loosen the skins and marry the juices. We're going to freeze them and then let them thaw in the fridge overnight.
Tomorrow the freezing and thawing will have helped break the fruit down and allow us to continue in our transformations of grapes into, grapes.
I was just about to clean off my cutting board. We had cooked some creamer potatoes at both 65 degrees
Celsius and then a second time at 83 degrees Celsius for a potato dish. We cook our potatoes in their jackets. The skins impart an exponential amount of flavor to potatoes. However, in our final presentation we did not want to serve the skins. Hence the fact that I ended up with a cutting board full of potato skins. As I gazed at the pile and pondered the dish, I realized I was looking at a pile of flavor. We put the potato skins and some cold grape-seed oil in a pot and brought the mixture to a simmer. We slowly fried the skins in the oil, stirring them occasionally, and watching them transform into potato cracklings.
When the potatoes where fully cooked and reminiscent of the often craved bar snack, potato skins, we tasted the oil left over from cooking the skins. The oil was rich in the flavor and aroma of potatoes and their crispy, roasted nuttiness. In fact, hints of truffle accent the flavor of that oil. The potato skin cracklings were supposed to be a by-product. When we tasted the crunchy morsels we realized we had yet another staple for our kitchen. The rich flavor of the cooked skins was accented by grassy notes and caramelized goodness. These fried potatoes became a catalyst for ideas. We had plans for using the potato oil to make mayonnaise to serve with the potatoes we had previously cooked. The potato skins, spiked with malt vinegar, would further accent the creamy condiment for the dish.
The dam is now open and ideas are pouring through. Octopus braised in fried potato oil would be smashing as would steak tartare enriched with either potato oil or potato mayonnaise. The fried potato cracklings are delicious on their own. What if we used them to infuse vodka for caviar service? These crispy flakes, similar to dark corn flakes could be ground to a crumb to use in breads or as a crust by themselves. The potato skins could also enrich an XO sauce hybrid and perhaps be used in its powdered form as a seasoning for slow cooked salmon, buttermilk poached chicken or a warm mushroom salad. The rich flavor would also add a distiguishing flavor to dashi and even be a great flavor for a micro stock. Potato skin ice ice cream, perhaps with fish tartare...an unlikely and still tasty fish and chips. Once again, we are surrounded by possibilities to explore.
Alex and I had a long weekend off to get married. We were working on Martha's Vineyard at the time and our wedding date in early June had been set well before we took the positions out on the island. Fortunately June is early season on the Vineyard and we were able to sneak off for three days to get hitched. We flew back in time for the rehearsal dinner, were married the next day, and had one day on our own before returning to work. For dinner that evening we went to Gramercy Tavern and had a tasting menu with wine pairings. It would have been a delightful evening no matter where we ate. We were doubly blessed because the much vaunted food and service lived up to our expectations that evening. At the suggestion of Paul Grieco, then the sommelier at Gramercy, I finished the meal off with a snifter of dark rum instead of cognac or Grand Marnier.
The drink was a revelation. To me rum had always been daquiris, pina coladas and later, rum punches. Although rum punches and a good pina colada will play up the character of dark rum, in all of these drinks it is paired with sweet fruit flavors and used as a partner and as an accent rather than as the main attraction. The dark rum that I was served that evening was an entirely different animal. It was smooth and rich, dappled with fruity and spicy notes, and ending with a lingering burn of burnt sugar essence. It started me on a never-ending journey to discover the best dark rums, which is on a brief hiatus at the moment, exploring the dark elixirs from various countries around the world. Fortunately as my interest has grown, so has rum's popularity, making it easier and easier to find new and interesting products.
When we decided to do an end of summer class at Astor Center, choosing two liquors to highlight was a no brainer. We went with dark rum and mezcal, two of our favorites, and two of the most flavorful drinking spirits out there. Their slightly heavier flavors would balance well with the gradually cooling evening temperatures and the rum was a natural for ice cream. (That way I could partake of a taste relatively guilt free.) We created an eggy custard base with milk and half and half and a generous helping of dark rum, in this case is was a an eight year old Rhum Barbancourt Réserve Spéciale. We let it rest for several hours to allow the flavors to meld and the rum to bloom and then we froze it in spheres in liquid nitrogen and rolled the balls in raisin dust. At home you can freeze this ice cream in any ice cream maker and simply fold in raisins at the end.
As for the mezcal, well that's another story entirely. You'll just have to wait for that one. In the meantime here is the ice cream recipe to keep you occupied and well fed while you wait.
Rum Raisin Ice Cream Spheres
500 grams milk
500 grams half and half
8 egg yolks
175 grams sugar
2grams fine sea salt
90 grams aged, dark rum
Combine milk and half and half in a large, heavy saucepan over medium high heat. In a blender, combine egg yolks, sugar, salt and rum. Turn the blender on low and then increase speed to medium. Once the dairy is simmering, turn the blender speed back to its lowest setting and pour the hot liquid carefully into the running blender. Pour the custard base back into the saucepan. Place over medium heat and cook to 165°F. Remove from heat, cover, and let rest for five minutes. Strain the custard base and chill it for at least four hours.
Pour the base into sphere molds and submerge in liquid nitrogen until frozen. Place frozen spheres in the freezer until ready to use. When ready to finish the rum raisin balls, loosen spheres from the mold and return them to the freezer while you prepare the raisins.
300 grams raisins
2 quarts liquid nitrogen
Pour liquid nitrogen over the raisins in a large bowl. Stir gently until the raisins are completely frozen solid. Strain out the excess liquid nitrogen. Place the raisins in a strong blender or Vitamix and process until powdered.
Pour the powdered raisins into a chilled bowl. Roll rum ice cream spheres in the powdered raisins. If the raisins start to melt, add a bit of liquid nitrogen to the bowl to keep them smooth and powdery. Coat the ice cream balls thoroughly with the raisin powder. Serve immediately.
As we all know know, tastes change with the season. When the warm weather arrives and through the summer, we get a taste for goat cheese. There is something about it's creamy, slightly chalky texture and grassy, herbal flavors that seem to go with spring and summer. I rarely reach for goat cheese in the wintertime although at this time of year I have been known to add it to almost anything.
Valencay is a French goat cheese. It looks like a squared off, almost pyramid and the natural rind is a dusty greyish blue from a combination of natural mold and charcoal. It is a young cheese with a slightly sharp acidity. The flavors evoke images of tall grass, sunshine and dirt roads. It's texture is a bit dry at first, moistening on the palate and growing almost creamy as you chew it and let it roll around your tongue.
One of our favorite combinations is Valencay and fresh beets. The sweetness of the root vegetable contrasts nicely with the sharper and creamier elements of the goat cheese. In a pinch it also pairs nicely with chestnut honey and fresh bread. In fact, Valencay with a crusty baguettes and some freshly sliced tomatoes with crunchy sea salt makes a wonderful lunch. Add some good company and that's all you need to make the world seem like a better place.
Working on recipes is always an interesting process. The idea was litchi bacon. We had beautiful, fresh fruit
to work with and we wanted to pair it with those smoky, meaty flavors without overwhelming the delicate nature of the litchi. We tossed the peeled fruit, still attached to the seed, with a blend of smoked soy sauce, rose water water, smoked balsamic, muscovado sugar and a touch of cayenne. This was vacuum sealed and cured for twelve hours. The results were unique in that we had this very ethereal floral fruit flavor that had married with a bit of smoke, spice, acid, and umami without losing it's own personality. Instead the additional flavors underlined the litchis subtle complexity and allowed the fruit to shine.
It's August, the heart of what should be fruit season. Everywhere you look there are gorgeous displays of berries and stone fruit. It looks like a bounty of riches until, well until you actually taste the fruit. It's been a pretty disappointing season here in the northeast. Other than our weekly shipment of organic stone fruit, an indulgence justified by the baby, and some wickedly expensive west coast cherries, there hasn't been much to write about at all. Clearly this is no one's fault, Mother Nature makes her own decisions about how each season will go. But this year, not even the tomatoes are truly up to par. There is beauty in abundance, flavor and texture, not so much.
What we have found this summer are litchis. These small fruits have been available and delicious. The
rough reddish-pink skins seem tough and impenetrable at first glance. Upon further inspection the shopper is beguiled by the delicious perfume wafting from within. I tend to choose litchis that are heavy for their size, that feel firm with pliable skins that have not yet begun to dry out. They are easily peeled if you dig in your fingernail around the bump at the top edge. Pop off this small, protruding end and the rest of the skin should peel off relatively easily to reveal the glossy, pearlescent flesh. There is a dark stone at the the center of the fruit, so when you pop that first one in your mouth, bite down gently, delicately sliding the juicy meat from the seed. The flavor is sweet, floral, reminiscent of nectar and rose petals, with a haunting after taste. It is a bite to be savored, all the more so for the effort that goes into procuring it. Fresh litchis are quickly becoming one of our favorite summer fruits.
When I first started cooking and even as I learned a bit along the way, the idea of stock meant bones,
blanching, simmering, skimming, time, vegetables, straining, and chilling. The idea of stock was very traditional and there were rules to be followed. It was a rigid practice that varied from chef to chef and kitchen to kitchen, and in each individual environment those rules were not to broken. Stock was considered a sacred thing. Today's new, at least new to me, stocks are much more flexible. These seasoned liquids are based around ingredients whose flavor we want to harness and use either as a cooking medium or perhaps as the base for a dish, sauce, or condiment. The most recent experimental stock was made with black olives. We combined salt cured olives, molasses and water in a pressure cooker. The intense flavor and body that we were able to capture in the resulting elixir was simply amazing. Tradition is important and should be respected, athough occasionally bucking the system can lead to great results.
How to work with fennel? It is a boisterous vegetable with both subtle and brazen flavors. It can be cooked or served raw. It shines when shaved and pickled for a salad as well as as it does when braised to melting tenderness. Fennel is delicious when pureed and set as a gel.
The one issue I have with this versatile ingredient is that in it's natural state, fennel often looks like a bad hair day on a plate. Sure, sometimes the messy look works, although it is not always practical. In order to combat fennel's unruliness I set about making fennel sheets. We thinly sliced the fennel and then marinated it in a calcium enriched fennel broth. Once the fennel was infused with the flavored calcium, we laid it into an overlapping sheet, which we glued in place with pectin. Yes, another use for fruit glue.
When the fennel is formed into a uniform sheet it may be sliced and manipulated with relative ease. We have used it as the base for a raw vegetable preparation and have plans to cook the sheets to tenderness to serve as a thin crust for fish, in a layered vegetable preparation or in place of pasta sheets wrapped around creamy cheese or delicate purees. We could also candy them or pickle them or...well you get the idea. Fennel sheets, the next fertile ground for a chef's imagination.
We've been talking about this for months but somehow I don't think we ever got around to writing about it here. We often do classes featuring rib eye in three (or more) services. It's one of our favorite cuts of meat and although we know it's expensive, utilized properly there is little waste on a three bone cut.
Cooking meats in their own fat is an old idea. James Beard used to write often about the old Coach House and it was one of their favorite tricks to increase flavor. A rib eye gives you lots of fat or beef tallow to work with. Rendering it is easily done, simply dice the fat, place it in a large pot with a bit of cold water over low flame and let it melt out over the course of a few hours. Every so often give it stir so that things don't stick to the bottom and soon you'll have some beautiful beef fat to cook with. The possibilities are endless and I won't list them all here, but we all know why McDonald's french fries used to be so damned good.
When we do rib eye in three services, we often smoke some of the meat. The richness of the cut allows the meat to stand up to a bit of smoke and tea smoking is a favorite of ours. We do it on the stove top, starting with cold meat and then finish by searing it either in a cast iron pan or on a griddle. It was only one short step to smoking the tallow. It doesn't need much time, 30-60 minutes depending on your palate. It's an amazing transformation as long as you don't overdo it. We actually like to smoke the fat before we render it, though if you already have tallow on hand do not let that deter you.
The tallow keeps well, vacuum sealed in the refrigeration and it adds amazing flavor to anything you cook with it. French fries cooked in smoked beef tallow are a revelation. So are juicy beets that have pressure cooked and then seared in the smoked fat. The smoked tallow is fun because it adds that extra layer of flavor a la minute, allowing cooks to have that smoky taste to a dish without a lot of muss or fuss from short ribs to oysters topped with morels roasted in the smoked fat.
I wanted to combine malt and yogurt for a dessert. Little did I realize what the results would be. I blended
yogurt and barley malt syrup and let it drain in a cheesecloth lined strainer overnight. What was exciting is that both the yogurt and the bi-product, the liquid drained from the yogurt, proved delicious and useful. The drained liquid retained the tang of the yogurt with a gentle, toasted sweetness from the malt. We reserved the liquid to whip into a foam which we used in our chocolate rubble dessert. The drained yogurt itself was also destined for this dessert. What was really interesting is that the drained malted yogurt tasted almost identical to our caramelized yogurt. In this case the yogurt is never heated and the texture is smooth and rich on the palate. Is one preparation better than the other? That answer is still to be decided. What is for certain is that malted yogurt is destined to become a staple in our pantry.
Sunflowers are one of summertime's gifts. Everyone knows that the seeds are edible and even the oil is gaining popularity because it is rich in vitamin E and low in saturated fats. Yet how many people realize that you can also eat the flowers?
They are considered to be at their best while still in their unopened bud stage. These young specimens can simply be steamed and their flavor will be remarkably reminiscent of artichokes. We have been playing with a more developed flower because that's what's available in the market now. As the plant develops so does its inherent bitterness. The flavor of the more mature hearts speaks of pine sap and artichoke hearts with that underlying nutty flavor of the sunflower itself.
The sunflower buds pictured here were braised with lemon juice, shallot flowers and saffron. They are tender, bittersweet, and herbaceous. The only question now is what to serve them with tomorrow?
Recently, we have been spending a fair amount of time working in the sweet world. The vast quantities of blueberries which have become available at stores combined with my yearly affinity for coconut have inspired a coconut and blueberry dessert. We made a blueberry puree which we enriched with butter to mimic the flavors of baked blueberry pie. We infused fresh blueberries with a blend of blueberry and yuzu juices to enhance the flavor of just cooked blueberries. The forms and variations of blueberry were paired against sliced coconut milk. The final accent in the dish are bush basil leaves, a spicy and aromatic herb which blends nicely with the coconut and blueberries.
This is the first year in almost a decade that we've really played with garlic scapes. Actually, this is the first year
in almost a decade that we've been around New York for the summer season and therefore able to take advantage of the bounty of produce available at the Union Square farmer's market. Garlic scapes are just one of many newly discovered and quickly adored ingredients that we've become acquainted with over the last couple of months. The garlic scape is actually the flowering shoot of the garlic plant. It is also known as the garlic whistle and pigtails. They are harvested while still young and tender so that the plants energy will be concentrated in it's roots, which in turn creates the garlic bulbs that are a staple in kitchens throughout the world. If you would like to utilize them in their raw state, look for smaller stems that have not yet begun to curl. If the only ones available are already twisted around themselves, not to worry, a bit of applied heat will tame their sharp, pungent flavor. Simply trim off the woody ends and the tips of the flowers, which burn easily, and give them a rinse. Now you're ready to start cooking.
The verdant tangles of garlic scapes may be juiced, creamed, sauteed, fried, pickled, pureed, and dried. Like regular bulb garlic, they require gentle cooking and will become unpalatable if scorched. They have a greener and grassier flavor than cloves of garlic and their brief window in markets forces cooks to explore all kinds of possibilities during their limited period of availability. They are happily substituted in any recipe calling for garlic with only minor modifications. On the other hand, they are absolutely delicious simply sauteed in some duck or bacon fat and served alongside creamy scrambled eggs with a dollop of creme fraiche.
I have wanted to put sesame seeds in the pressure cooker for several years now. It is amazing how procrastination and other ideas can steer a desire off course for indeterminate amounts of time. Today I came across bulk sesame seeds at a local store and took this as a sign to purchase a bag of seeds and bring them immediately home to the pressure cooker.
Aki and I conferred on how long to cook the seeds. She believed that due to their small size we should dramatically cut down on the cooking time compared to our other seed cookery. I was hesitant although she quickly convinced me that we should try her seven minute cook time. I filled the bottom of the pressure cooker with an inch of water and then placed a trivet in the center. I then took a small bowl filled with the seeds, some water, agave nectar and salt and placed it on the trivet. I sealed the lid and set the timer. When the seven minutes were up I let the pressure dissipate and I opened the lid. The seeds were not cooked and definitely not tender. I put the lid on and tried another seven minutes. No success. I tried another twenty five minutes. Not yet. I added another hour to the cooking time and finally had positive results. The seeds have texture and a snap and pop similar to eating tobiko (flying fish roe).
I should also note that the seeds uniformly toasted during the pressure cooking. They picked up a rich nuttiness which did not exist in the raw seeds we started with. The tiny size of the seeds and the popping texture are really incredible. I am not quite where we will go with these cooked seeds, though I am looking forward to the journey.
How to season the inside of a vegetable? In this case we start with a vegetable puree. How to give a vegetable puree structure? What is the desired texture of the vegetable puree? There are a wide range of approaches to answer these questions.
In putting this beet salad together we were looking to create a beet sphere, which looks like a beet, with an intense and rounded beet flavor and the texture of a silky flan. We paired the structured beet puree with raw compressed beet rounds infused with blood orange bitters and Blis Elixer. The beet marinating liquid is reduced to a glaze while the crisp round is topped with Valencay goat cheese. A few sprigs of wild watercress add a grassy spiciness to the finished dish.
A small dice really excites me. The abbreviated size draws the eye and highlights the texture of the contrasting ingredients. At the same time the pieces are large enough to be tasted individually. We often look to miniature cubes when we are making condiments because it allows for a balanced combination of flavors and textures. Here we have rhubarb, which has been infused and compressed with a rhubarb syrup, and jalapeno pepper. The heady earthiness and delicate spice of the jalapeno is an ideal match for the acidic sweetness of the rhubarb. Since we are only compressing these vegetables and not actually cooking them, their inherent crispness remains. This allows for a relish with intense flavors and a distinct texture. The union of rhubarb and jalapeno acts as a great foil for a number of ingredients from smoke infused trout to braised lamb neck. While we could have used them in either their cooked or raw states, what makes this condiment truly special is the uniform cutting and compression of the vegetables.
Aki usually makes the grits. She enjoys the slow stirring, the tinkering, the pleasure of adding moisture as liquid cooks away, the adjusting of the flame to prevent the bottom of the pot from sticking and occasionally scorching. Let's pause on that last piece of information, the sticking and scorching. I have lost track of the amount of times that the grits have stuck to the bottom of the pan. No matter how gentle the cooking, how careful the stirring,
somehow, some way, a distraction always occurs and those grits stick. When grits stick, not only do you have a chance of scorching and wasting a good sixty to ninety minutes of cooking time, you also have to expend a whole lot of time and energy in scrubbing that pot clean. I am not a fan of pot scrubbing, yet somehow I am quite skilled and very practiced in the art of cleaning.
The constant fear of scrubbing pots has forced my brain to look for alternate methods of cooking grits. We have tried the oven, though that process is even slower, we have tried the pressure cooker with its non-stick interior, and still we occasionally find grits glued to the bottom of the bowl. Then it occurred to me. We had caramelized yogurt in a vacuum bag in the pressure cooker to produce amazing results and no mess. I wondered if we could do the same with grits? I filled a bag with 1 part grits and 3 parts water by weight and sealed it tight. I placed the bag in the pressure cooker and added enough water to the pot so the bag would not scorch. I sealed the lid and set the cooker for ten minutes. When the time was up, I let the pressure naturally release and then removed the bag. The bag was intact and I quickly cut it open. I poured the contents into a bowl and stirred the mixture. The grits were on the drier side though they were fully cooked. The next time I tried a four to one, liquid to grit, ratio. The result was perfect grits. Well almost perfect.
There is an ongoing debate about what liquid should be used to cook grits. Purists say water. Gluttons say milk. Aki says skim milk. Thankfully Aki's frugality produced an even more exciting medium. Aki had just made a batch of ricotta and instead of following the directions and pouring the whey down the drain, she saved it for me. I have a list of ideas involving whey as a cooking medium and when Aki handed me a bowl of whey, the ten minute grits cooked in whey went straight to the top. The flavor of the whey has a slight tang from the buttermilk with a rich sweet backbone from the milk. It has a touch of salinity from Aki's seasoning of the curds and the entire combination is a unique liquid which was destined to be utilized in our kitchen.
The grits cooked in whey retain the essence of their corn flavor while being accented by the intrinsic dairy notes in the liquid. The grits are an incredible vehicle to be enjoyed on their own or perhaps gilded with fresh mushrooms, braised carrots, or even a few fresh shrimp.
The first sign said "wild Chamomile", the second sign said "pineapple weed". Alex stopped and scratched his head. "What the heck is that stuff?" I was examining strawberries and he took off to confer with the lady presiding over the the bushy looking bunches of petal-less yellow flowers, with relatively thick stalks and small, pointed fern-like leaves. As he talked, I saw him pick up a bunch and give it a sniff. It was all over in that brief second and before I could blink he bounced back triumphantly bearing his scraggy looking bouquet.
"Smell this!" he exclaimed, pushing the buds beneath my nose. The scent was arresting, herbal and vegetal with a definite undertone of...pineapple. There was definitely something worth pursuing here, the only question was what to do with the sorry looking things.
Pineapple weeds are low growing plants that resemble Mayweed Chamomile in appearance and are
notable for their distinctive pineapple scent. They are a summer annual which flower from May through August. According to the vendor, the leaves and the buds are edible although for our purposes we stuck to the tender, cone shaped buds. It grows well in compacted, dusty soil and can often be found at the edges of gravel parking lots and along well trodden sandy beaches. The seeds require fine soil and sunlight to germinate. The plants are generally no higher than five inches although in ideal situations they have been known to grow up to twelve inches high.
The buds themselves are about the size of a #2 pencil eraser. We cooked them briefly in a syrup of water, agave nectar and a pinch of salt to sweeten, tenderize, and bring our that pineapple aroma. The flavor is delicate and ethereal, bringing to mind a juicy bite of pinapple consumed in a humid rainforest. These buds need a a strong yet delicate touch to really highlight their true potential.
We were lucky enough to be given a bountiful bag of prosciutto fat. Actually it is a combination of prosciutto and Iberico ham fat, saved for us by a friendly cheese monger. It is difficult to express my pleasure with this luxury. The amount of time and energy which went into creating these flavorful pieces of fat, skin, and discarded trim is amazing. How can I express the potential of what we have received? Our first step in utilizing the fats' possibilities is rendering out the fat. We actually divided the pieces of prosciutto between two pots and gently heated the contents. The low heat allows the fat to be released into the pot while the skin/ham pieces shrink and caramelize, allowing the two parts to separate and produce two very different ingredients full of potential for our kitchen.
The fat itself will be used for a number of fat-based applications, from poaching fish to making foie gras prosciutto and a savory caraway bread. Some of the prosciutto cracklings will be ground into a fine seasoning base, some used to season soups, sauces, legumes, and vegetables, and some will be the flavoring agent for a prosciutto consomme. These are our starting points. Who knows where we'll end up.
Two trimmed and gently poached and chilled oysters sit nestled amongst braised morel mushrooms and leaves of oxalis. A light topping of yuzu bubbles and a scattering of chives provides a creamy and acidic medium which conceals the treasures beneath and acts as a vehicle to marry the flavors of land and sea.
As Spring opens the door for Summer's arrival we felt another look at
ramps, whose season lasts almost exactly as long as springtime, was in order. These roulades consist of
poached and chilled duck breasts, which we then rolled in ramp greens and cooked again to order. The green, grassy allium notes of the ramps act to support the gamy, meaty notes in the duck breast.
We paired slices of these duck parcels with a cherry, yellow mustard, and cornichon sauce. Several pieces of tender, pressure cooked turnips completed the dish. The approach of cooking the duck first and then wrapping it in the ramp greens allows the flavors to remain singular while still uniting on the palate.
Just a friendly reminder to remember that one person's weed is another's lettuce. Purslane is about and in
abundance. The succulent tang of this rock weed is wonderful with soft shell crabs and a perfect accent to ricotta drizzled with honey. These tiny, succulent plants are juicy with a lightly sweet flavor that melts into a gently tangy finish. We tend to use them in their natural state, although they can be sauteed or added to soups and stews. Do not miss the opportunity to incorporate these fine florets into your latest and greatest culinary compositions.
The other day at the farmers market, we were lucky enough to stumble across some fresh angelica. The cut plants were in a basket beside the stall, dramatic beauties with long, hollow stalks, serrated leaves and drooping, umbels of green and white flowers. Having never played with fresh angelica we were instantly intrigued. We knew that the stems were often candied for their bittersweet, slightly warm, and aromatic flavor. Angelica has been described as musky and herbal and is often paired with juniper due to their similar flavor profiles.
The entire plant can be used or culinary purposes. In addition to being candied, the stems may be stripped of their leaves, peeled, and eaten raw. The leaves can be dried and used for tea. They can also be combined with the stems, coarsely shopped and steeped in warm liquids to impart their unique flavorings to a variety of custards, jellies, other preparations. In the past essential oils, which were distilled from the seeds, were used by some wine makers in the Rhine area to boost the muscatel flavor of their wines. The young shoots and tenderest, leaves may be used in salads or sautés. The roots can be cooked and eaten as a vegetable and in it’s dried form is often boiled or steeped with honey and lemon as a curative beverage. Angelica is a flavoring in Chartreuse and also used in many gins. It is commonly known as a “guardian angel”. Legend has it that during the plague and angel appeared in a monk’s dream and told him to use angelica as a cure for the disease. To this day it is used in homeopathic remedies for the treatment of fevers, colds, coughs and other stomach ailments.
By far it's most common culinary guise is candied and used in a variety of desserts and baked goods. It is classically paired with rhubarb and spinach, although not necessarily at the same time. For us, we are using it with some beautiful white asparagus.
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