Monthly Archives: September 2014

One!

28 Sunday Sep 2014

Posted by in family gatherings, From the journals, the kitchen

≈ 15 Comments

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The number of times I have gone to Europe.
The number of meals I have eaten which included beef tongue.
The number of times I have truly fallen in love.
ONE.
The number of years I have attended the International Food Bloggers Conference (IFBC 2014).
The number of years I have written this Blog.
One!
One special, overwhelming, fulfilling, challenging, and inspirational year!
One year ago today, Pete was sitting in our dining room, asking me what I wanted this to look like.  One day before, I had no idea what I was about to get into let alone know what it should look like (other than the header, which Pete designed for me earlier).  I would not have ever gotten past the thought of a space to write down my ideas about food without first, the journals that my husband Tom bought me, ritually, each time I filled one up, or second, without Pete saying, “Hey, do you want me to come over and just help you do this thing?”.  I can’t thank them enough!

And big thanks to all of you that actually read what I write.  A bigger thanks to those that actually leave comments and/or follow my blog (Simon, you were my first follower, thanks!).  Most of all I am just happy to have a place that I can escape to and write for a few minutes, or an hour, or a day.  One!  Without that time, I feel lost.  Without that writing, I would not have connected to all of the people that I have met through this blog.  I am so glad to have “met” each of you.  I wish I could meet you all in person, have you to dinner, or share a glass of wine over a leisurely lunch.  But we can pretend (unless you actually come over, then we can do some serious eating!).

I leave you with this, a dinner that we shared last night with my Mom and her opposite-sex-partner, John (very much part of the family too), before their departure back to Alaska (after fixing numerous household things in need of repair).  One trip, one meal, one year, is never enough (but they will be back for a special birthday in a month, I will keep writing for another year and I will attend, for my second time, the International Food Bloggers Conference, September 18-20, 2015, you too can register here).

One Summer down, Fall is back in the air, and this is the meal that we shared… and for Mom, my recipe for the pork belly + canteloupe sauce.  One course is never enough.  We had five.  A good number too, but too much to write. This is about, One (recipe).

A Fall Dinner for Mom and John 9/27/14

To start – Nibbles with cocktails
Fresh shrimp spring rolls with dipping sauces (nuac chom + nectarine sauce)
+
Fried shoyu tofu sticks + golden cow’s milk cheese & everything crackers (for the nibbler (ironically not me, my Mom))
1st
Roast beet + raw zucchini and mint stack with miso sauce and pickled ginger
2nd
True cod with corn, wild mushrooms, baby bok choy and shoyu corn broth
3rd
*Pork belly + scallop, massaged kale, cantaloupe sauce
To finish
Fig, apple and ricotta galette with carmel cashew-milk ice cream
+
Berry galette with Elleno’s lemon curd yogurt

PS_spring rollsFresh shrimp spring rolls with dipping sauces.

PS_beet stack 1Roast beet + raw zucchini and mint stack with miso sauce and pickled ginger.

PS_cod 2
True cod with corn, wild mushrooms, baby bok choy and shoyu corn broth.

PS_ TOMpork 2
Pork belly + scallop, massaged kale, cantaloupe sauce.

PS_pie
Berry galette with Elleno’s lemon curd yogurt (in the making).

*Pork belly + scallop, massaged kale, cantaloupe sauce
Serves 4-6 people

It is best to get the pork belly with the skin on if you can; this time I did not but I prefer it that way (it keeps the fat from turning very black).   I learned the method of cooking pork belly from Tom Collicio’s book, “Think Like a Chef” and have experimented with many different cooking flavors, modifications ever since.  The pork belly is braised in a broth that then becomes the base of the sauce for the true cod (above) which I also used to flavor the beets, zucchini and fried tofu sticks.

The cantaloupe sauce helps cut the richness of the pork and the saltiness of the shoyu braise.  It smells of pumpkin as it cooks, and looks like butterscotch when done.  I make this sauce every Fall.  It is wonderful served with a meal of cranberry beans, pork loin and prosciutto, plus could easily be used to sauce everything from fish to fois gras.  Because I was pairing this with a shoyu-based braise, I changed out the typical Chardonnay in the sauce for sake, but either would work fine.  You can freeze leftovers in a Ziploc freezer bag or freezer-safe container.  Both the pork and the sauce can be made a day or two in advance, which makes it great for entertaining.

The kale was an afterthought because I felt we needed something green, I had some in the fridge, plus I felt it would lend a perfect balance of texture and flavor to the rest of the dish.  My favorite way to eat kale is a simple massage of olive oil, sea salt and lemon juice.  No cooking required; the heat from the pork and the sauce are all the heat that is needed.

INGREDIENTS (for the pork belly)

2 lbs pork belly, skin on if you can
Salt and pepper
1 celery stick, diced
3/4 cup onion, chopped
2 TB chopped garlic
3/4 cup corn broth
1/2 cup shoyu (I used Ohsawa organic Nama Shoyu.  Quality does make a difference but feel free to substitute for a soy sauce instead.  Please note that it might be saltier so do adjust according to taste.
1/4 cup rice wine vinegar
1/2 cup water

INGREDIENTS (for the cantaloupe sauce)

1 cup chopped onion (or shallot)
1/4 cup chopped fennel bulb (or a few fennel stems and fronds from the garden, chopped as I did this time; I had no fennel bulb)
1 TB butter for sauteing (or use olive oil)
3 TB L’Estornell Grenache varietal red wine vinegar (or another good quality red wine vinegar) (more as needed to season)
1 cup sake (or chardonnay)
2 to 2 1/2 cups large diced, peeled cantaloupe
A handful of fresh basil (optional)
1 TB red currant jelly (I forgot it last night but it does help to thicken the sauce)
1 TB demi-glace
1/8 tsp cayenne pepper
1/8 cup heavy cream
Sea salt to taste

INGREDIENTS (to finish and serve)

Kale (approximately 1 leaf per person), rinsed, dried and stem removed
Olive oil, sea salt and lemon juice to taste

Fresh, dry-packed sea scallops (1 per person)
Olive oil, a knob of butter, sea salt, pepper and a squeeze of lemon juice

Fennel fronds and flower for garnish (optional)

PREP & COOK (the pork)

Season the pork with sea salt and pepper

Pre-heat the oven to 350-degrees

In a hot pan, brown the pork, skin (or fat) side down (this might take 10-15 minutes over medium heat).  No oil is needed as there is plenty of fat that will come out of the pork.  Drain it off periodically if it splatters too much.  You will want to reserve about 1-2 TB for cooking the vegetables.  Transfer the pork to a plate.

In 1-2 TB pork fat, cook the celery, onion and garlic until soft.  This will take about 10 minutes more. Keep the heat low so as not to brown the vegetables.

Transfer the vegetables to a baking dish.  Top with the pork belly, skin (or fat) side up.

Combine the shoyu, rice wine vinegar and water in a small bowl (or measuring glass).  Pour enough of this mixture into the baking dish to come 1/2 to 3/4 the way up, but not cover the pork.  You will likely still have some liquid left which will be added later.

Cook, uncovered for 1 1/2 hours.  Check on the liquid and add more if needed.

Cook an additional hour, checking occasionally to be sure it is not burning or running out of liquid.  If it browns too much, you can cover it loosely with foil.  Add the rest of the liquid (if any).  You could use sake or water if needed.

PS2_pork pan 2

3 hours is usually how long I leave my pork to cook.  It should be quite tender (the degree of tenderness will depend on the thickness of the pork and the ratio of fat to meat).  It will go back in the oven to finish later (if eating that night), or the next day (if doing in advance).

If you are doing this in advance, store the pork, in the baking pan with the liquid (and solids), covered and refrigerated until ready to use.

When you are ready to use (up to 8 hours in advance), transfer the pork to a plate.  Pick off obvious pieces of fat that have solidified in the liquid.  Strain the contents of the pan through a fine mesh strainer (or chinois) into a bowl and discard the solids.  Separate the oil from the liquid as best you can.  The liquid will likely be quite salty; this is okay. You should have about one cup of liquid.  Dilute with more corn broth (approximately 1/2 to 3/4 cup).  Taste for flavor and adjust accordingly.  It should be balanced in flavor now, not too salty, not too sweet.

Remove the skin from the pork (skip this step, obviously, if there was no skin to start). Cut the pork into 4-6 equal sized pieces. Score the fat.  Put it back into a baking pan with the liquid.  At this point, I went ahead and added a few tablespoons of that liquid to my sliced beets, zucchini and tofu. I “borrowed” more of the liquid when I went to cook my true cod.

In a 350-degree oven, cook (or re-warm) the pork until it is very tender and the fat is browned (but not burnt).  If you did not have skin on the pork, the skin will burn easier so you should keep checking in on it’s progress.  Allow 1/2 hour for this process but you can keep it in the oven for longer if you are serving other courses; just be sure to cover it or turn down the heat so as not to dry the pork out.

PREP & COOK (the cantaloupe sauce)

Heat a saute pan and melt a knob of butter.  Add the onion and fennel.  Cook until the onion is translucent, approximately 10 minutes.  Add the vinegar and cook a few minutes until most of the liquid has evaporated.

PS_close up sauce

Add the sake (or wine) and cantaloupe; continue simmering for approximately 20 minutes more or until the cantaloupe has softened and blended into the pan (another 20 minutes or so).

Strain the sauce through a chinois.  The liquid should be thin and bright.  You will likely have 1 1/2 cups.

PS2_top of chinois
The bowl in the front is my strained pork braising liquid.

PS_kitchen window 2

Put the liquid back to the sauce pan (wiped clean).  Add the basil (if using) and let steep for 1/2 an hour, no need to turn on the burner.  Remove and squeeze liquid from basil, discard basil.

Add the jelly, cayenne, demi-glace and cream.  Bring to a simmer and reduce until it is just thick enough to coat the back of a spoon, approximately 20 minutes (it will reduce by about 1/3).  Set aside and re-heat when ready to use.

FINISH & SERVE

While the pork is warming in the oven, prepare the kale.  Slice the leaves into pieces, drizzle over some olive oil, sprinkle with sea salt and squeeze over a wedge of lemon. Gently massage the leaves to soften and distribute the flavors.  I think I might have even spooned over a bit of the shoyu corn broth (optional).  Set aside.

Rinse and pat dry the scallops (remove the muscle if it is still attached).  Score the top side with a small cross-hatch cut.  Season with salt and pepper.  Be sure the scallop is completely dry before putting them in the pan to produce a nice seared top.

Re-heat the cantaloupe sauce.  Check to be sure the pork is warmed through.

On individual plates, divide the kale.  If using fennel fronds and flowers, put them artfully on the plates too.

Heat a saute pan until hot.  Add just enough olive oil to cover the bottom of the pan.  When the oil is heated (enough to easily move about the pan), add the scallops, scored side down.  Do not touch them for at least 2 minutes.

When the scallops easily come away from the pan with a spatula without sticking, and they are nicely browned on the one side, throw in the knob of butter.  It should melt quickly.  Turn the scallops over.  In the 30 seconds after you turn the scallops, place one piece of pork on each plate.  Immediately squeeze in a lemon wedge and turn off the heat.  The scallops should be soft to the touch still (not rubbery), seared on the exterior and soft in the middle.

Quickly spoon the cantaloupe sauce onto each plate and immediately remove the scallops from the pan and place one on each plate.

PS_buddyOne bite!

PS_sleeping bagsTwo pups!

PS2_1110 legs!

Burnt Toast (and IFBC 2014)

19 Friday Sep 2014

Posted by in cooking basics, the kitchen

≈ 18 Comments

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PS3_biscuit 1

There are several ways to cook corn, none of which I spent too much time pondering until recently. For me, corn always goes on the grill and often gets treated with butter before biting into, straight off the cob.

It was pointed out to me though, during a series of semi-“deep” discussions regarding corn at our recent family reunion in Minnesota, that if you are not lucky enough to eat it raw when it is freshly picked, the microwave might be the most perfect method for it’s cooking. I was skeptical, but willing to listen and then, eager to give it a try. I also wanted to share a few other methods of cooking corn and an idea (or two) of what I like to do with it every summer (one of which I already did). However, I realize this might be less-than-timely seeing that the summer is coming to an end, for now, so perhaps I will pick that thought back up again next year…

As I ponder the subject of corn though, I turn to pondering the subject of eating. This brings me to food, which of course, is the center of this years International Food Blogger’s Conference (IFBC 2014) taking place at the Westin in downtown Seattle, which brings me to writing. Many of us attending the conference (obviously) write about food. My guess is that most of (if not all of) us enjoy food, more than might be considered normal. I am happy to fit into this category of “not” normal because it means I eat particularly well and who can complain about that?

What most excites me about the upcoming conference (beginning tonight), is the optional workshop I signed up to attend on Sunday. The workshop is about writing, creatively, concerning food, but also concerning memoirs (clarifying voice and story). This is of particular interest to me because I have been trying to write just that. Not just about food but also memories, and memories about food. Well, not just memories about food but memories that involve food (which is an extensive bank of memories).  Actually, what I really want, is to write about those things in a way that captures my voice and makes you want to read what I am writing, enthusiastically.

Burnt Toast

Not only is the content of the workshop something I am looking forward to, it is being led by New York Times Best-Selling food writer Kathleen Flinn, author of “The Sharper Your Knife, the Less You Cry” (which I have read and thoroughly enjoyed) and her third book “Burnt Toast Makes you Sing Good” (which I have not read, but will read as soon as I can buy a copy). The title of that one makes me smile because my father is a notorious burnt toast fan and I just sent him an after-surgery care package containing some burnt biscuits I made because they tasted of burnt toast. Needless to say, burnt toast doesn’t travel well and they went to the trash. Perhaps I will ring the hospital and ask them to prepare him some freshly burnt toast? Or not. In any case, I will ring him to share my experience after the workshop and if we are lucky, I will have learned a thing or two to make me a more engaging writer (when I share the experience with you). That is the plan.

If you haven’t read Kathleen’s writing, I encourage you to pick up a copy of one of her books; well worth the read. Also, if you are attending the conference, perhaps I will meet you there and maybe you are joining the workshop too, which you do not need be at the conference to sign up for, cost is $75, you can sign-up here). Until then, inspired by the title of Kathleen’s third book, I have gone to the kitchen in the hopes of recreating the perfect burnt toast without the “burn” (and come to think of it, without the toast). Curious?

PS_biscuit 3

Biscuits and “cream”
(Aka: not “burnt” toast)
loosely adapted from Molly Wizenberg (and Marion Cunningham)

I know what you’re thinking. I think I do anyways, because if Kathleen were writing this, I would be thinking “burnt toast has nothing to do with biscuits and certainly to do more with butter than with cream”. Hear me out though.

Biscuits are where I started and biscuits I am still trying to make. Ones that don’t taste of burnt toast (even though I think Dad would have liked them straight from the oven before being shoved into a wobbly envelope and flown across the country). I started out wanting to make buttermilk biscuits. I bought one from “Honest Biscuits” at the Pioneer Square Farmer’s Market a few weeks ago. It had butter dipped into the center and honey too, which oozed out the side. They were tall (double story tall) and slightly reminded me of the biscuits I missed out on at the Willow’s Inn. Almost, but not quite. I say not quite because they didn’t look quite as pretty (as the ones at Willow’s Inn).  In reality, I never actually tasted the ones at Willow’s Inn (if you recall from my lengthy post) but this Honest Biscuit was a very good biscuit.  Very good, yes.

I did not want to recreate the Honest Biscuit. What I actually wanted was a cream biscuit. One that was fluffy and moist. One that tasted, well…of cream. What I didn’t want was to actually use cream. Or white flour. But that was a minor detail. What I ended up doing was going to Orangette to find Molly’s cream biscuits I had read about years before. She has a version by Marion Cunningham (no, not the one from Happy Days) that she swears “you can’t screw up”, yet I am here to tell you that I did (screw up), twice. I had only made a few alterations: I used quinoa & whole wheat flours + corn meal rather than all-purpose flour. I used honey rather than sugar and (most notably) replaced the cream and butter for buttermilk and yogurt. So you can see why I was surprised with the unforeseen outcome?  No?

Well, I do confess that there were two attempts at this recipe, because after the first version, I was convinced that the flop was to do with my outdated baking soda (expired February of 2013) and I (reluctantly) had in-fact brushed the outside of the biscuits with melted butter (only 1 TB, but that was likely why it tasted of toast at all; their only redeeming feature). I thought the burnt part was to do with using honey (and perhaps that darn TB of butter that I diligently brushed on even the underside of the biscuit; the side that actually did burn)?  In any case, as it turned out, this was the better batch of the two (yikes!).

PS_close burnt

The second batch received a freshly-opened can of baking powder (no, not the whole can), just 1 TB).  I reduced the amount of quinoa flour and corn meal by half, replacing it with more whole wheat pastry flour.  Then, thinking I needed some “cream”, rather than use actual cream, I used 1/2 cup cream on top, whole milk yogurt (which had already been depleted of said top cream) in addition to buttermilk (because I really didn’t learn the first time).  I also opted to use sugar rather than honey but I brushed the tops with yogurt instead of butter (not advised).

So now that you know what not to do, this is what I just did.  Just a few moments ago.  I don’t have burnt toast and I don’t have (real) cream biscuits, but I do have something that looks more like a biscuit than a hockey puck, and tastes more like a biscuit than a (hockey puck) piece of burnt toast.  Plus, it is healthier than a cream biscuit (although, full disclosure, it does use actual cream).  If you didn’t read about my corn butter, I think you should.  I replaced half of the cream with the same portion of corn butter.  I used spelt flour rather than whole wheat.  I kept with the quinoa flour (because I like the color and the sweet richness) and I replaced the cornmeal with fresh sourdough breadcrumbs (because it started out as bread, which is what we use to make burnt toast; you following?).

I made the breadcrumbs without toasting the bread, hence the term “fresh” bread crumbs.  The bread I used was the sourdough from London Plane in Pioneer Square, but any good bread will work just as well.

NGREDIENTS

1 cup spelt flour
1/4 cup *quinoa flour
3/4 cups fresh breadcrumbs (simply purée day-old bread inners, not crust, in a blender or food processor until coarsely crumbly; it will be warm and moist to touch)
1 TB baking powder
1 tsp kosher salt
1 TB honey
1/2 cup whipping cream
1/2 cup corn butter (or another 1/2 cup cream)
Another bit of corn butter or melted butter for brushing

*quinoa flour can be purchased from some grocery and specialty stores (for a hefty price).  When I discovered the Blendtec, I am now able to make my own (well worth the small investment).

PREPARE

Pre-heat the oven to 425-degrees.

Mix the flour, breadcrumbs, salt and baking powder in a medium-sized bowl.  With a fork, blend in the honey, then add the cream.  Continue to blend with a fork until it quits “shagging” (Marion and Molly’s term).

Lay it out onto a floured work surface (which I find helpful to have fall onto a piece of wax paper).  Knead to pull it together (it will be wet and sticky). Roll it out with a pin.  In order to keep it from clumping onto the pin, I had to throw a handful of flour onto the dough.  Then, because it looked pasty, I threw over a teaspoon of corn butter to rub over too.  Roll it to 1/2″ thickness.

dough only

Now, you could cut into 12 squares (as Molly says) but I prefer round.  It was quite sticky and did not cooperate very well so my rounds were cattywampus and thin.  This is where I had an epiphany.  I took my thin discs and doubled them up with a layer of corn butter in between.  I also left one or two single-layered and half of them were top-coated with melted butter, while the rest were coated with more corn butter; all of them turned out just fine.  Better than fine, actually.  They are quite good!  yes, this is me admitting to them being good (my family will be shocked).

try thisPretty is not what these are about…

Sometimes it is about the food and flavor, not the…pretty.  Think about that. (pretty gutsy for a lead in to a food bloggers conference…no food porn here)!

How ’bout a random cute photo of my cutie pies instead?

PS_random 2They are acting a little pouty because they don’t get to go to the International Food Blogger Conference even though they are part of the “team”.

PS2_with preserves
Pretty good with boiled down blueberries though (no additives).PS_bittenI guess I should give the pups a nibble.

Down on the Farm and back to the City

16 Tuesday Sep 2014

Posted by in cooking basics, family gatherings, From the journals, the kitchen

≈ 28 Comments

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PS_done close 2

I used to tease my brother, Scott, that he was the Country Mouse and I was the City Mouse. As the years go on though, I start yearning more for the tranquility of Nature’s melodies than for the sounds of the energy bursting from the bustling city. I don’t think I would ever completely trade the skyline for clear sky but I can appreciate more now, what a sweet life country living would be.

Last month, Tom and I went to Minnesota for a family reunion. My Grandpa, on my Mother’s side, grew up in Hager City (“City”, current population 338), Wisconsin, which is just a stone’s throw across the mighty Mississippi from Red Wing, MN. It had been over thirty years since I last visited; my Great Grandmother had still been alive. One of my cousins, Sabrina, ended up marrying a gentleman there and now lives on a large farm that houses some of Wisconsin’s premiere dairy cows, supplying milk to the creameries that produce those famous Wisconsin cheeses.

grandpa cropped
Grandpa Brown stepp’in out and me…ssshhhh, I adopted (temporarily) a dog; don’t tell Ginger and Buddy.

I had the opportunity to accompany Sabrina’s husband, “Farmer John”, while he made his rounds at milking time (PM that is, I’d have only been in bed mere hours before AM milking). I had never milked a cow before and didn’t realize what an interesting operation the whole thing was. He let us (me and a half dozen bright eyed wee ones) milk a cow, although I wouldn’t say It was of any help to him, or the cow. In fact, I felt like an intruder, knowing that the cow was being burdened by my/our inexperienced technique. It was not as I expected either. It looked so easy when he showed us.

When I went to place my hand on the cow’s teat, I expected it to be soft and squishy but it was so much larger than I thought and was taut beneath my skin, requiring a swift pull that I did not deliver well. The warm liquid shot out sideways as I did not control my grip.

IMG_6552
“Farmer John”

Right before we went into the barn, my sister-in-law, Irma, told me how they used to milk the cow’s milk right into a glass, pour in a shot of tequila and drink it fresh on the spot; (her family has a ranch back in Oaxaca, Mexico). When I saw the liquid squirt out toward me sideways, I couldn’t imagine having an aim good enough to hit a small opening on a glass, let alone wanting to drink it. Watching it hit a pail though (as someone more experienced did) it was cloudy white with frothy bubbles as if it had been warmed to place in a shot of espresso, so the image of their drink seemed like an intriguing ritual.

calf

IMG_6559

IMG_6555

In addition to milk, one of their main crops is corn.

IMG_6461
This is at the Farmer’s Market, not my cousin, but a big heap of corn to unload.

barn keep

Looking around the property, corn stalks surrounded us for as far as you could see. They were bigger than I would have imagined, perhaps twelve or fourteen feet tall. Other than the corn, the only tall structures where the barns and the silos. At night you could hear the whisper that the stalks made as they blew easily in the nights breeze. The only light came from the moon as it lit up the sky, and the flicker of the fire pit around which came good conversation accompanied by wine, until the rain came in and cleansed the earth for the next day.

IMG_6588

Tom and I (being ones to elevate every travel experience) stayed at the historic St. James Hotel in Red Wing. My Mom fondly remembers my Grandmother taking her there for lunch as a young child. Then, she wore her white gloves, was taught the proper placement of silverware and to say please and thank you. Our room looked out over the River and the train tracks were nearby (well, across the street). The startling and frequent blowing of the whistle both excited and lullabied us as the trains raced past.  Tom didn’t even use ear plugs after the first night (shocking!).

st james

There was deep-rooted history there, but apparently, no food served after 10:00 pm.  Our first night got us in past this hour and we dined on Chex mix, pretzels and Manhattans (classy, right?).

PS_manhatten duo
We later asked that the cherries (we forgot that was “traditional”) be replaced with lemon twists (although they might have gone nicely with Chex).

PS_chris bartender
The bartenders there were really good though, Chris, in particular, is one I would expect to find behind a serious hipster bar in Portland.

With no coffee pots in the room (gasp!), Tom went down for cappuccinos in the mornings while I showered. We would meet on the veranda where he sat, waiting in a rocking chair with the newspaper, his coffee and a wonderful view of the river, boats and folks.IMG_6458

Later, the scratch Bloody Mary’s would come, served refreshingly good, with a chaser of light beer. A (not so) light breakfast set us up for a day of family and fun.

IMG_6511

So, this trip brought us from city to farm and back again.

pour 2
And back at our “homestead”…

Milky Corn Broth with shrimp meat, sweet tomato and avocado  

Needless to say, we were sent home with many ears of fresh corn so when we got back I made a long-time summer favorite, corn broth; it is a broth that eats like a soup.  It is refreshing and pure, tasting deeply of corn which mingles happily with it’s favorite comrade, shrimp.  The sweetness of the corn is offset nicely by the subtle, sweet saltiness of the shrimp and further enhanced by the creamy avocado and textural nuances of tomato.

As I was straining this through my chinois, the liquid resembled the milk from a cow, slightly warm and bubbling as it pooled out and into the bowl.  The final liquid is milky, sweet and gold.  I can’t imagine a more fitting recipe (of mine) than this, to illustrate the influence and coupling of these two commodities; even though there is not actually dairy in this soup (unless you count the butter), it tastes of fresh cream kissed with corn.

The amount of salt and lemon juice will depend on the sweetness of the corn. If overly sweet, the salt and lemon juice help to balance it out.

INGREDIENTS

5 ears fresh corn, husks and silk removed
1 large (or 2 medium) sweet onions, chopped
2 TB butter
2 cloves garlic, chopped
2 cups dry white wine or vermouth
4 cups water
1-2 tsp kosher salt (or to taste)
Lemon juice to taste (perhaps 1-2 TB)

Garnish: Per person, approximately 2 oz shrimp meat (Oregon or Canadian if you can), 1 wedge avocado (diced), 3 sweet baby cherry tomatoes (cut in half or quarters).

PREPARE

Remove the corn from the cobs and reserve the cobs.

In a large pot, sauté the onion, garlic and corn in the butter until soft, approximately 5 minutes. You don’t want it to brown though so keep the temperature slightly low.

Add the white wine, water, reserved cobs to the pot and bring to a simmer. Put the lid on and turn the heat down. Let it simmer over low heat for 45 minutes to an hour. The lid should help the liquid to keep from evaporating. I like to participate in the process so I check in pretty often to see how the flavor is coming along. I might remove the lid if I feel if it seems too watery and as long as the liquid is not going away altogether, I let it simmer as long as 1 1/2 hours to allow the aromatics to really permeate the liquid. There is not an exactness to the amount of time or liquid quantity, just taste and instinct.

Remove the pot from the heat and let cool slightly. I like to leave it sit until the cobs are cool enough to handle but that is not necessary. Remove the cobs from the pot with tongs and set in a bowl.  Pour the rest of the contents into a chinois placed over a bowl and push on the solids to extract all the liquid and flavor. When the cobs are cool enough to handle, use a knife to squeeze whatever liquid you can from them and add it to the bowl.

Return the liquid to the pot season with salt and lemon juice. Simmer a little more to thicken it slightly. It will be broth but should thicken enough to look like cream.

Chill for at least 2 hours or overnight.

SERVE

Place the shrimp meat in the bottom of individual bowls. Ladle the corn broth over the shrimp meat. top with the avocado and tomato.

If you had a bit of crispy bacon (say left over from breakfast), that might taste good as well (says Tom).

shrimp in bowlpour close

BONUS: Corn Butter

I recently got a Blendtec.  It competes with Vitamix and as far as I know, works every bit as good, if not better.  Plus, it fits under my cabinet and is easy to clean.  I usually throw out the mash of solids after pressing them through my chinois but, curiosity got the better of me and I decided to add them to my Blendtec and put the switch on soup mode.  I ended up with a lovely bowl of corn butter.  It is delicious on toast and I imagine many other things I have yet to discover.

PS_corn butter

And lastly, while we were in MN, we went to a park that had a special place just for monarch butterflies.  This shot is for Sheri at Unfettered Fox, I thought of her as I followed this fellow (and it’s friends) from spot to spot.

IMG_6467Have wings, will fly.

And when a late Summer storm passes through when the special guests need to be escorted to their vehicles, creative pop-up valet service ensues…

PS_johnMan on a mission.

What is wrong with me???

06 Saturday Sep 2014

Posted by in the kitchen

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IMG_6654

Wait, don’t answer this. It is meant to be rhetorical. Oh, you already have answered? Sssshhhhh, keep it to yourself, trust me, I already know.

It is September. Yes, the month that comes on the calendar after August, which is in reality, the last true month of summer. Where did the months of June, July and August go (rhetorical, again)? I waited patiently all through the winter months, and then the first month of pre-Spring for the Farmer’s Markets to unfold. I went once back in May, by myself, and made an enormous haul. So enormous that I could barely maneuver the one-foot-in-front-of-the-other thing without teetering side-to-side. My arms weighed heavy, carrying all that my eyes told me to buy.

I bought a tomato plant too.

Did I mention my arms were full and I was shopping alone?

I left that tomato plant at numerous stands. Weaving through busy crowds, I back-tracked to retrieve it as I happily thought about all the delectable morsels it would someday soon bring.

The last stop got me talking about pickles. Not just pickles, but sauerkraut too. I had to have several large (heavy) jars.

The tomato plant was left behind once again.

It wasn’t until I had reached another 7 minutes into the walk back to my car that I realized Tomato Plant had been abandoned again.

I paused for a moment and pondered about the four dollars I had paid and the worthiness of that money, versus heading back to retrieve it, laden with bags cutting marks into my wrists.

It wasn’t really to do with the money that made me return for Tomato Plant. It was the promise of the red, juicy succulence, bursting into our mouths with nothing more than a rinse from the fountain to clean off their skins. It was also the vision of delicate red balloons, multiplying and offering more sweetness, more nutrients, more summer, again and again and….

As mentioned, it is now September, and that was my only trip to Farmer’s Market this year (until last Friday). What is wrong with me? (Sssshhhhh)

And this new friend that I could not let go, brought only one, yes one, lovely little Roma, that decided to ripen while we were away on a trip. Apparently that was it, and I am most sad.

It is a good thing I was (somewhat) fortuitous in that I did buy a second plant; the type that promises to produce tomatoes. It was in a small wooden basket, gripping from a little wood trellis and did produce a bunch of bright red gems, but, only a few really made the cut. The rest were mealy. Thankfully, a mealy tomato can still make a robust, earthy sauce. So, that is what I did, sauce, times two (well one was actually a purée).

photo 3Sorry girls, he’s taken.

My real problem is this, I sometimes go whole seasons, yearning for the next season. I know, we all do this (no?). I then go through the next season and forget to enjoy (to the fullest), all the delights that said season brings… until the end. I am now at the end of Summer without having reveled in a plethora of perfect tomatoes. And there are few foods I adore more than Summer-fresh tomatoes.

For my sprint to the end (of Summer) though, I have managed to pile 4 bags of produce, farm-fresh eggs, pasta and pickles into my car last Friday from the Bellevue Farmer’s Market before heading off for the weekend where I piled a few more bags of the same (minus pasta) from the local farm stand (Hunter’s Farm) near Hoodsport, WA. I have a very full fridge and a bowl filled with Summer tomatoes (I am happy to say, but anxious about using in time).

This Fall, I must remember to cook using pears and squash. Until then, I give you freshly grown tomatoes, roasted and puréed, served with a side of chicken and eggplant Parmesan (because, it looks a little bit like Fall and I did have mealy tomatoes for sauce).

Roasted tomato (purée) sauce
makes approximately 2 cups

Once, long ago, when I worked at (the sadly now-defunct) Seattle restaurant Italia, I noticed the ovens were constantly filled with sheets of whole tomatoes roasting and sending out a heavenly scent. The cooks would take them from the oven and dump them through a large contraption that separated the meat from the seeds and skin. I have no idea what temperature the ovens were or how long they roasted, but I did know two things; roasted tomatoes made delicious sauce, and roasting tomatoes made everything smell fantastic.

This is less of a recipe than a process. To coax out that earthy, sun-kissed tomato flavor, roasting them low and slow in the oven is a pretty neat trick. Roasting high and quick works pretty well too and I often switch between the two depending on how much time I have, what I am making and how big the tomatoes are; it is pretty hard to screw up at this.

For instance, if I am using smaller, cherry tomatoes that I want to liken to those sun-dried numbers, I usually douse them with a little olive oil, sprinkle over some sea salt and cook them at around 300-degrees until they dry out a bit, but retain their natural juices. At 300-degrees, this might take only an hour or less; if I reduced the oven to 250-degrees it would take longer, but provide a more-succulent result. I am slightly impatient (again, shhhhhhh) so I usually opt to cook at a higher temperature (sometimes 375-degrees) for a shorter time. For this sauce however, low and slow is the way to go.

INGREDIENTS

1 1/2 lbs tomatoes
1 head garlic, outer skin removed, cloves separated, hard inner skin still intact
Olive oil
Sea salt + fresh ground pepper, to taste
Red wine vinegar, to taste

tomatoes raw copy

PREPARE

Preheat the oven to 275-degrees.

Put the whole tomatoes and garlic cloves on a sheet pan. Drizzle over some olive oil, then sprinkle with sea salt. Add some herb sprigs if you like, such as fresh thyme, rosemary or oregano. Shake to coat.

Place the pan in the oven and let roast for approximately 2 hours.

cooked tomato

Transfer the contents of the pan to a food processor, including juices (if any), yet removing the garlic’s skin (and any skin that easily slips from the tomatoes), as well as picking away the stems from the herbs; purée.

Add the vinegar and a sprinkle of salt and grind of pepper to taste. Process to combine. I sometimes add a little more fresh herb or dried oregano; this is optional because it will taste fantastic with or without.

That’s it. Easy, right? Yes, it truly is. You can use this versatile sauce for many things; use right away or freeze to use later.

Roasted tomato (purée) sauce with a side of chicken + eggplant Parmesan
Serves 4

INGREDIENTS

1 cup (+/-) roasted tomato (purée) sauce – see recipe above

2 smallish eggplants (Chinese or Japanese varieties work too but adjust quantity per slice circumference), sliced into 1 to 1 1/2″ slices.
Olive oil for brushing
Sea salt to season

2 boneless, skinless breasts of chicken, each breast cut in half down the center
Sea salt and pepper for seasoning
Flour for dusting
1 egg, beaten
1/4 cup panko
1/8 cup grated Parmesan
Olive oil for frying
1/2 cup grated mozzarella
Soft herbs (such as basil or oregano) for garnish

PREPARE

Preheat the oven to 375-degrees.

Lay the eggplant sides on a baking sheet and brush each side with olive oil. Sprinkle one side with a little sea salt.

PSeggplant

Roast the eggplant in the oven for approximately 20-30 minutes. It wants to be slightly browned but not hard. The top will be slightly tough but with a little give to the touch. Remove from the oven and let sit. The eggplant should soften as it sits (making it hard to resist eating directly from the sheet pan; I always make enough to account for my nibbles).

In a shallow plate or bowl, mix the panko and grated Parmesan.

On a cutting board, between two sheets of wax paper, pound the chicken breasts until even and 3/8″ thick. Season with salt and pepper and throw a handful of flour over, lightly coating each side.

Dip each chicken breast quarter in egg, then press into the panko/Parmesan mix. These can set aside 1/2 to 1 hour before cooking.

chick parm

Heat a sauté pan and add enough olive oil to just fill the bottom to 1/8″ deep. When the oil is hot, add the chicken and cook undisturbed until golden on the bottom side. Flip and cook 30 seconds more. Turn off the heat and transfer the chicken to a paper towel-lined surface.

Spread some tomato sauce on the bottom of a baking pan (just enough to barely coat).

Add the roasted eggplant in four vertical lines .

Top each line with a chicken breast quarter.

Pour the remainder of the sauce over all, down the center.

Sprinkle with shredded cheese and chopped fresh oregano.

uncooked

Bake for 30 minutes, loosely covered with foil. Let rest 5 minutes before serving.

close up

Now, may I recommend that you serve one quarter chicken + eggplant Parmesan, on a plate alongside a fresh green salad with vinaigrette or dressing of your choice?

photo 2
(note from the editor) Edit with a nice glass of wine, Rosé on a warm Summer day. Enjoy.

photo(And don’t forget, tomatoes are good for pups too)!