There's No Place Like Home for the Holidays

The December Holidays have come and gone. A new year has begun.

I realize the magic of my season comes from the solace of the hearth and kitchen.  Family and friends naturally gather where food can be found and the wafting aromas lure everyone to the kitchen.

In that spirit, I wanted to show you what I came up with for the hollidays.  I think it worked out well.

Happy Eating and Happy New Year.


Grilled Sweetbreads

Sweetbreads are the thyroid gland of a calf or a lamb.  Which sounds horrible but are really a wonderfully delicate and flavorful meat.  As with all offal, make certain it's fresh or frozen appropriately. 
1 lb veal Sweetbreads
Salt
Olive Oil
Salt and Pepper

Rinse the sweetbreads in cold water.  Remove any extra membrane.

Dissolve 2 tablespoons of salt in 2 quarts of water in a non-reactive bowl.  Add the sweetbreads.  (add more water if needed to cover.)  Seal in plastic wrap and put in the refrigerator for 8 hours or more.

Heat your grill to medium high (about 400 degrees).  Rinse the sweetbreads thoroughly and pat dry with paper towels.  Break into skewerable chunks and skewer onto 4 skewers.  (I know--if I used my Thesaurus, I might find another word for skewer.  But I'm not.  Feel free to contribute your ideas in the Comments section.)  Drizzle lightly with olive oil and smear it around with your hand to evenly coat.  Season with salt and pepper.

Lay the skewers on the grill and get to grilling.  Toast each side until golden brown, about 3-5 minutes per side.  (Caution: keep an eye on them.  They'll go from golden brown to burnt in a hurry.)

Remove from the heat and serve warm with a great dipping sauce.  Chimchurri is traditional, but I used a homemade Asian-style soy and vinegar.  Delicious!


Beef Wellington
1 lb Mushrooms (I love a mix of wild mushrooms for a richer flavor)
2 Leeks, trimmed, rinsed and sliced into 1/4 inch quarter-round slices
1 teaspoon fresh Thyme leaves
2 tablespoons Butter or Olive Oil
1 lb Foie Gras
3 lbs Center Cut Beef Tenderloin
2 tablespoons Bacon Fat
Salt and Pepper to taste
1 lb Puff Pastry (we used my Mom's homemade Brioche)
1 Egg, beaten (for egg wash)

To make the Duxelles: coarsely chop mushrooms.  Dump it into the food processor along with leeks, thyme and a 1/2 teaspoon salt.  Pulse until the mushrooms are small and evenly-sized pieces, but not a paste.  Melt the butter in a large skillet on medium high heat.  Transfer the mushroom mix to the pan, add any more salt and pepper to taste, and saute until the moisture has mostly evaporated out, about 8-10 minutes.  Remove from the heat to let cool.

In the mean time, tie the tenderloin like a roast to keep its cylindrical shape.  Sprinkle evenly with salt on all sides.  (Most chefs prefer to not only trim the tenderloin for excess fat and silverskin, but also shape it at this time so everything cooks evenly.  I can see their point, but I know that my family prefers various degrees of doneness in their meat.  When the center is rare, the smaller ends will be medium well.  And that's OK.  Use your judgement.)  Melt the bacon fat in a large skillet (the same one you just used?  Yes.  It's got good flavor...) on high heat.  Sear the tenderloin on all sides, seasoning with pepper as you go.  Remove from the heat place in the refrigerator to cool.  (Remember, you want a sear on the outside and the inside should be cold and raw.)  The searing adds flavor and the tying, searing and refrigeration help keep it's shape.

While cooling, slice the foie gras into thin (1/8 inch) slices.  Assemble the foie gras slices like fish scales (slightly overlapping) on a large sheet(s) of plastic wrap.  It's OK if some of the plastic wrap shows through--this part doesn't need to be perfect, just reasonably consistent.  Spread the duxelles evenly over the foie gras.  Cut the string off the tenderloin, lay it on the foie gras and duxelles palette, and then wrap the plastic firmly around the whole thing.  Refrigerate for 30 min to an hour.

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

On a floured board, roll out your puff pastry to a sheet large enough to encase the tenderloin with a little extra overlap.  Move it to a sheet of parchment paper.  (This makes moving it and cleaning so much easier.)  Working quickly, but gently, unwrap the meat from the plastic wrap.  The foie gras should now stick to the duxelles which should stick to the tenderloin.  Place in the center of the pastry and wrap the pastry firmly around it.  Trim the excess off the ends, keeping the trimmings for decoration or a puff pastry dessert (as you desire).   Seal any seams with egg wash.  Using a sharp knife, slice a few small vents into the pastry.  Transfer the parchment paper to a cookie sheet and put the cookie sheet into the oven.

Bake until the desired doneness.  I like rare to medium rare in the center, so using your probe thermometer, cook until it reads 125 degrees in the center.  Remove from the oven.  Take a second to admire your beautiful handiwork, then cover with foil and let rest for 20 minutes.  20 MINUTES!  No touching it, no matter how good it looks.

Starting in the center, slice into one inch slices and serve.  Some people will want to add a sauce.  This is so rich and flavorful that you really don't need it.  Gilding the lily and whatnot.


Rommegrot
This pudding is completely stolen from NPR.  Yes, NPR.  Not Delicious Dish with Alec Baldwin, but the real thing.  Simple and delicious.  Just like Carl Kasell.
1/2 cup white rice
2 cups half-and-half or cream
Pinch of salt
4-6 cups milk
Butter, Cinnamon and Sugar

Heat the rice, half-and-half and salt in a double boiler over low heat. Cover and simmer for a minimum of 2 hours, adding additional milk as the mixture thickens. This is the minimum time you need for the rice to break down. Ideally, it should cook over low heat for 6-8 hours for a smoother, creamier rommegrot. Continue to add milk as needed and periodically check the double boiler to keep it from boiling dry. If it does boil dry it will turn your rommegrot brown. You can adjust the recipe and amounts of cream versus milk to suit your taste, although it is not recommended to make it with just milk.

When ready to serve, make sure the rommegrot is at a pudding consistency. Serve warm with a dollop of butter and a generous sprinkling of cinnamon sugar.

"Traditional Norwegian rommegrot does not use rice. It is essentially just cooked cream with flour, but in this recipe the rice acts as a thickening agent instead. I'm not sure how my family started making it with rice, but this is the way my Norwegian grandmother and also, I believe, the way her mother made it."

You Eat What? (A Reprint)

Some time ago, I wrote this little ditty for Studio Thirty Plus.  I don't really feel like writing something new this weekend, and since this is new to most of you, please enjoy.  (And if you've read this already, enjoy it again.  Or don't.  But I'd prefer it if you did.  My ego is fragile.)

At the request (or rather the e-equivalent of a double dog dare) of one of my newest Wordy friends, I posted a picture of me during a fire eating show.

It's dramatic.

Go ahead.  Take a gander. I'll give you a minute.

See?  Isn’t it great?

As soon as someone finds out I'm a fire eater, the inquiries naturally begin: "How did you start eating fire?" "Why fire eating?" “Doesn’t it hurt?” and, "What does your [mom/wife] think?"

My mom still shudders, but my wife loves it. In fact, that’s part of what convinced her to marry me. (Wife. Not mom. I don’t want pronoun trouble to lead you to the wrong conclusions. Not that my mom isn’t a very handsome woman. She is. I just don’t think of her that way.)  She (wife) had just broken up with her very nice boyfriend because there was no “magic.”  Her family questioned her judgment. But fire was exactly that spark we both needed to become something better.

Fire is more than it appears. Stare into a campfire. The flames lick the air in what is really a simple chemical reaction: super heated oxygen combines with carbon to release more heat, thereby converting more carbon, until the wood turns to charcoal and ultimately, ash. Other chemical impurities provide surprises of blues and greens to the orange flames. But the physical experience of fire only adds to the spiritual. I defy anyone with a soul to stare into the fire and not be transported to a time of our most ancient ancestors and the stories they told. In short, fire is magic.

I started eating fire in 1992, but the decision to eat it was made much, much earlier. At 12 years old, I visited the Ringling Bros. Circus and I was absolutely captivated by the fire eater. Flash forward a few years, living in the mountains of Colorado, still too young to drive, a rainy day and any friends were too far away for a walking visit. (Literally—not at all contrary to popular belief, until I learned to drive, I actually did ride a horse to get around.) My mom always had a rule, “If you’re bored, I’ll find something for you to do,” which really meant chores, and since that held NO interest for me, I made a list of all the things I wanted to do in my life before I died.  Fire eating was on that list. So was wilderness survival and walking on the moon, but I’ll save those for future blogs. 

In my senior year of college at Colorado State University, my roommate, Mike, was a celebrated artist. What he was not, was a celebrated scientist. He waited until his final semester to take any courses relating to science and then he stacked three of them back to back to back. Perhaps it was kismet, perhaps serendipity, but Mike’s chemistry professor had been a fire eater for Ringling Bros. Circus for nearly 30 years. When I found out, I stalked the professor back to his office. I shared with him my story, my longing, my aching to know the art of fire eating. He, in turn, grilled me for hours (pardon the pun), making certain that I was not a pyromaniac, and that indeed I wanted to perform for audiences. When he was satisfied, he simply said, “Meet me here tomorrow. Three o’clock.”

I had no idea of what to expect, but of course, I did what he asked. On arrival, and without greeting, he handed me a brass rod, one end wrapped in asbestos cloth and stated, without ceremony, “What the audience beholds is not what is happening. When well performed, there is little risk of immolation. Instead, the audience can enjoy one act in a show about a slow poisoning over the course of decades.” He then handed me a simple drinking glass filled half way with charcoal lighter fluid. He taught me how to move, how to ignite and how to extinguish. In fact, over the course of nearly 6 months, he taught me the true secrets of fire eating: knowing how to control the flame, how to give a good show, and knowing how much pain I can withstand.  My “graduation” was in front of members of the Fort Collins Fire Department.

So there it is. That's my story about fire eating. I still eat fire regularly—or as regularly as afforded. I enjoy it immensely and I still love the interplay with an audience.  So come join me. Watch while you can. After all, I may only have a few decades left.

And just because I love you all, a recipe:

Hot Buttered Rum Mix

1 stick Butter, softened

2 cups Brown Sugar (I like the molasses in the Dark Brown)

1 teaspoon ground Cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon grated Nutmeg

1/8 teaspoon ground Cloves

1/8 teaspoon ground Allspice

1/4 teaspoon Salt (if using unsalted butter)

In a mixing bowl, cream together all of the ingredients.  Pack into an airtight food storage container and refrigerate until firm.  (It will get very firm.)  The mix will keep for months in a well-sealed container.

Hot Buttered Rum

1 1/2 tablespoons Hot Buttered Rum Mix

1 1/2 oz Rum (Most recipes call for dark rum, but this is your cocktail.  Use whatever rum you like.)

Hot Water

Cinnamon Stick or Orange Twist for garnish

In a mug, combine the mix and the rum.  Add hot water to top it off.  Stir until the mix is dissolved.  Add garnish.  Cuddle up to your sweetie, sit in front of the fireplace and lose yourself in the magic of a lovely evening.

Pass the Salt

I graduated college nearly 20 years ago.  Wow.  It seems like only yesterday.  I remember my youthfully arrogant, Bohemian ways; I remember my first tattoos; I remember the girls I dated (Hello, ladies) and the books I read.  Or more correctly, I remember reading a lot of books.  So many books.  I studied the complete works of Shakespeare, John Milton and William Blake.  I devoured Plato, Aristotle and Thomas Aquinas.  I read The Bible, The Tao Te Ching and The Rig-Veda.  I studied Updike, Vonnegut and Atwood.  In fact, I read so many books in college that I really don't like reading now.  Honest.  If you were planning on getting me books for the holidays, please don't.

In place of "reading," however, I do enjoy "research" when it strikes my fancy.  Of course, one of my favorite topics for "research" happens to be food.  And what could be more interesting right now than something as timeless and elemental as salt.  It's kind of the little black dress of the food world.

Think about it: most of what we put in our mouths is pretty disgusting.  And everything gets pretty gross once your body works it over for a bit.  So the cleanliness, the purity, virtual sterility of salt cannot go unappreciated.  Salt is the only rock we eat.  Salt is the reason for the salinity of the oceans which in turn contributes to driving the currents of the seas and thereby regulates the temperatures of the earth.  Salt inhibits the growth of bacteria and other beasties and is essential for preserving many foods.  Biomolecularly, the human body requires sodium chloride to maintain osmotic balance of cells, transmit chemical signals in our nervous systems and aids in the elasticity of our blood vessels.

Salt is mentioned in 40 verses in the King James Bible, and has been an important element in most world religions and religious ceremonies throughout history.

Table salt

Oh, and salt also enhances flavors.  (If you doubt it, try baking a loaf of bread without adding salt to the dough. I recently screwed that up.  YUCK!)  For that reason, you'll find salt as one of the top ingredients in many pre-packaged foods.  So much so, that it has been linked to health problems in many first world diets.  (It should be noted that studies on the long term health effects of salt are inconclusive, at best.  While it MAY exacerbate the effects of high blood pressure in some people already suffering from high blood pressure, a salt-heavy diet does not appear to contribute significantly to mortality or morbidity.  In my opinion, foods heavy in salt are usually also heavy in other preservatives, saturated fats and high fructose corn syrup which have all been proven to be significantly worse for you.)

Table salt under 10x magnification

Salt comes to us in many varieties.  We most commonly recognize table salt in our home and restaurant use.  Its small, consistent crystals (which look all too similar to sugar so as to prompt sophomoric pranks of switching the two) shakes out of salt shakers easily, is simple to measure, and dissolves easily.  Table salt is highly refined, removing most flavoring minerals, but adding in iodine, anti-caking compounds and sometimes additional nutrients.  Because of its small grains, I usually use slightly less salt than called for in recipes, but it's the only seasoning I use on popcorn.

Kosher salt

Kosher salt is hands down my favorite for cooking. When seasoning meats, it's broad, flat flakes spread evenly and dissolve quickly. Kosher salt usually contains less additives than table salt but is still rather highly refined. And salt itself is really neither Kosher nor not Kosher. Unless it's soaked in prawns, salt is fine in Kosher seasoning. But Kosher salt is regularly used in Kosher meat preparation. It's flat structure draws out protein-rich liquids, evenly, to the surface which allows for a lovely Maillard reaction. 

Kosher salt under 10x magnification

Sea salt with Greek spices

Fleur de sel, or sea salt, is less refined and contains trace minerals from the salt water from which it came.  The removal of salt (and other minerals) from salt water, or desalinization, is arguably one of the most important advancements in the future of human agriculture.  The salt is flavorful and usually has large crystals.  This is a great salt to grind and add to dishes where the salt is supposed to be a highlight.

Sea salt under 10x magnification

A Himalayan Salt Block

Mineral Salts, or salts that are mined from the land, are usually extracted from land-bound salt deposits, that used to be water deposits.  Through geologic processes, these salts usually contain the highest mineral concentrations.  Like sea salt, they are best expressed where the salt should be tasted.  Because these salts are often formed into large rock formations, they can also be cut into blocks.  This is an AMAZING application and we love to use ours as a serving tray for sliced fruit.  The juices from the fruit dissolves trace amounts of the salt block, which in turn lightly seasons the fruit.  A perfect system.  Shop for salt blocks at The Meadow. 

Seasoned and smoked salts punch up the flavor to a whole other level.  If getting out the grill would be impractical, but you still want that hint of smokiness, try smoked salt.  Or if you want an easy boost of herbs and other seasonings to your potatoes, try seasoned salt. 

I've written before on using salt in a brine.  I've also posted a recipe for cooking a chicken in a salt crust.  However, I love when a chef (or anyone, really) questions what they've been taught.  Chef Oliver Schwaner-Albright had such a crisis of faith and through his experimentation, learned much about when to add salt to meats.   

So when should you use the different kinds of salts?  As usual, my first recommendation is taste and experiment.  What tastes good?  You've got some good hints in foods you already know.  Pretzels wouldn't be the same without salt, so salt baked into a bread's crust should be good.  Many families pass the salt when they split open a melon.  I discovered that I love coffee ice cream with a pinch of sea salt. 

If you can avoid most of the salt used in prepackaged foods, you shouldn't be afraid of salt.  So give it a whirl and try a kick of unexpected flavor. 

For dessert, try:

Ice Cream Scoops Rolled in Graham Cracker and Salt
4 scoops of your favorite Ice Cream (for those keeping track, Mint Chocolate Chip is my favorite)
8 Graham Crackers
1 tablespoon Sugar
2 teaspoons coarsely ground Fleur de Sel

Place a cookie sheet lined with parchment or wax paper in the freezer until very cold, about 15 minutes.  Using an ice cream scoop run under a hot tap, scoop individual scoops of ice cream onto the cookie sheet.  Return to the freezer. 

Using a rolling pin, crush the graham crackers to a coarse powder.  Combine the sugar, graham crackers and salt in a shallow, wide bowl. 

When the ice cream is frozen hard enough to handle, roll the scoops in the graham cracker mix, coating evenly.  Serve and enjoy!


Rosemary and Lemon Cookies with Fleur de Sel
1 cup butter, softened
1 1/2 cups white sugar
1 egg
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 3/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
Zest of 2 Lemons
1 tablespoon fresh Rosemary, minced
Sea Salt (unground)

Preheat oven to 375 degrees and grease (or spray) a cookie sheet. 

In a large bowl, cream the butter and sugar together.  Beat in the egg and the vanilla.  In another bowl, stir together the flour, baking soda, baking powder, lemon zest and rosemary.  Slowly add the dry ingredients to the wet until well mixed.

Put a little salt (1 tablespoon or so) onto a small plate.  Roll the dough into 1 inch balls.  Tap the ball lightly once into the salt.  You want to pick up a few grains of salt on each cookie.  Place the balls on the cookie sheet, salt side, up. 

Bake for 8-10 minutes or until golden brown.  Let rest for a few minutes on the cookie sheet before removing to a cooling rack.  Makes about 4 dozen.


And just because you read all the way through, you get a picture of my Sunday morning.

Apples on a Salt Block.  (And the dog looks on in curious bemusement.)

The Fruits of Our Labors

Almost as a cosmic gauntlet thrown at my feet and certainly as a natural follow-up to the last post about preservation, I came into a bushel of apples and 15 lbs of ripe grapes (1/2 and 1/2 green and Concord--both yummy!)  In an attempt to go through all of the fruit before it turns to compost, yet not have a stomach ache from eating it too fast (seriously, the grapes were so delicious, I continued to eat them well beyond a normal man's limitations.  For the next two days, I spent a lot of time"indisposed."  Did you know that grapes were so high in fiber?  Because I forgot,) here's a few thoughts on what we're doing.

Dried Apples

Apple Juice
Apple Peelings and Cores
Water

Place the apple parts in a sauce pot capable of holding them with a few inches of headroom.  Add water to about 1/2 inch below the top of the apple.   Bring to a boil. Reduce to a simmer and let cook for 15-20 minutes.

Pour into a sieve over a bowl and let drain completely, 20 minutes. Take that juice and filer through dampened cheese cloth if you want less incidental pulp. Seal in a sterile jar and store in the refrigerator. Should keep for about 3-4 days.


Apple Butter
4 lbs Apples, washed
2 cups Water
Sugar
1 teaspoon each of Ground Allspice, Ground Cinnamon, Cloves

Remove the stems, leaves, and worm holes with rot around them, then quarter the apples.  Don't bother peeling or coring the apples.  Put the apples and water into a large pot, cover and heat until boiling; then reduce to a simmer.  Let simmer until the apples turn very soft.  Remove from the heat and let cool. 

Press the apples through a sieve, separating the pulp from the seeds, skins and other undesirables.  Measure the pulp, return it to the large pot and add a like measure of sugar (1:1).  Add the spices.  Bring the mixture to a boil, stirring constantly.  When it starts to boil, reduce the heat to a simmer and continue to stir for two more minutes.  Then stir occasionally until the moisture is mostly evaporated and the butter can be rolled up on a spoon.  The color should have changed from a light blonde to a deep mahogany. 

Pour (spoon) into sterilized jars and process in a water bath for 10 minutes.  Makes about 8 half-pints. 


Apple Syrup
Combine equal parts Apple Juice and sugar.  Bring to a boil, stirring constantly.  Let boil for 10 minutes.  Cool and store in the refrigerator.  Will keep for a month. 


Grape Juice
Grapes
Water

Remove stems from the grapes, but don't bother trying to remove the seeds.  Put them in a sauce pot capable of holding them with a few inches of headroom.  Add water to about 1/2 inch below the top of the grapes.  Bring to a boil.  Reduce to a simmer and let cook for 15-20 minutes. 

Pour into a sieve over a bowl and let drain completely, 20 minutes.  Take that juice and filer through dampened cheese cloth if you want less incidental pulp.  Seal in a sterile jar and store in the refrigerator.  Should keep for about 3-4 days. 


Grape Turkish Delight
This was a ridiculous endeavour, but Turkish Delight is a childhood treat many of my friends have never tried, yet all remember from The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe.  If you get a wild hair, give this one a whirl. 

4 cups Sugar
4 1/2 cups Grape Juice (in total)
2 tsp Lemon Juice
1 1/4 cups Cornstarch
1 teaspoon Cream of Tartar
1 cup Confectioners Sugar

Line a 9x9 pan with aluminum foil and grease the foil with nonstick cooking spray. Set aside for now.

Place the sugar, lemon juice, and 1 1/2 cups of the grape juice in a medium saucepan over medium heat. Stir until the sugar dissolves, and bring the mixture to a boil. Brush down the sides of the pan with a wet pastry brush to prevent sugar crystals from forming, and insert a candy thermometer.

Continue to boil the sugar mixture, without stirring, until it reaches 240 degrees.  But when the sugar syrup is around 225 degrees, begin to get the rest of the candy ingredients prepared.  Place the remaining 3 cups of grape juice in another, larger, saucepan. Add the cornstarch and cream of tartar and whisk until the starch dissolves and there are no lumps (this is super important). Place the saucepan over medium heat and bring the mixture to a boil, stirring or whisking CONSTANTLY.  The mixture will thicken into a smooth paste.

Once the sugar syrup is at 240 degrees, remove it from the heat. Slowly, carefully, pour it into the cornstarch mixture, whisking until it is fully incorporated.  A friend to help with this part is good.  Gloves and an apron are better.  Friends, gloves and aprons all around is best!

Reduce the heat to low and simmer, whisking it every 8-10 minutes, for about an hour, until the candy has turned a light golden-yellow color and is very thick and gluey.  Again, be careful.  The candy is very hot and very thick and it will pop as it slowly boils.  This will burn when it lands on your skin.  (Children's confections are not for the faint of heart!)

After an hour, remove from the heat and pour the candy into the prepared pan and allow it to set, uncovered, overnight.

The next day, remove the candy from the pan using the foil as handles. Dust your work station with the powdered sugar, and flip the candy onto the powdered sugar. Remove the foil from the back and dust the top with the sugar. Use an oiled chef’s knife to cut the Turkish Delight into small squares. Dust each side of the square with powdered sugar to prevent stickiness.

Turkish Delight is best soon after it is made. It doesn’t keep very well, but if you want to try keeping it, store it in an airtight container with waxed paper between the layers, and dust the sides with powdered sugar again before serving.


Lavender Green
This is a delightful cocktail my beloved created, named for the song Lavender Blue.  She remembers her grandmother singing it to her as a child. 

2 oz Dry Gin
1/2 oz Dry Vermouth
1 oz Grape Juice
1/2 oz Lavender Simple Syrup
2 dashes Vanilla Bitters

Shake over ice and strain into a chilled cocktail glass.  Garnish with a lemon twist. 

Enjoy the beverage and listen to Burl Ives singing Lavender Blue.

Preservation

The change of seasons in Colorado.  The mornings have turned crisp and the leaves have just started to turn colors.  Coworkers everywhere are bringing a surplus of end of year zucchini and tomatoes to leave in the break room for some sucker to take home. 

So many tomatoes

So what to do with the last of the veggies as the growing season comes to a close?   Or what do you do if your passion for your garden has flagged and you still have veggies you don't want to get rid of?   Or if you want to be completely ready for the coming Apocalypse? 

Think preservation, baby.

All the cool kids have been doing it for years.  In fact, learning how to grow and preserve your own food is arguably THE transition from nomadic hunter-gatherers to the establishment of civilization.  Your grandmother (or great-grandmother, for you young whipper-snappers) likely spent many hours preparing, canning and freezing vegetables to ensure her family had food through the lean winter months. 

Preservation encompasses three primary methods: canning, freezing and drying.  I love all three and each have their uses, but today we're talking about canning.  Many think it's difficult, expensive, and time consuming.  No, no and yes.  To do it right, that is.  But it's worth it for the ability to experiment. 

Like cooking, canning encourages a development of flavors that you cannot achieve any other way.  Canning demands heat and allows for time--critical elements  for the full benefit of taste.  Cucumbers transform into dill pickles; strawberry-rhubarb jam blends into something greater than either strawberries or rhubarb.  Chutney doesn't become the magic condiment it is until it has rested for a few months inside a jar. 

"So," you say, "I want to get started with canning.  Where do I begin?"  Your local super market or hardware store is ideal.  Here's a basic shopping list:

Boiling Water Canner (AKA water bath canner, $5-$80, and cheap is fine here!);
Jar Lifter ($5)
Canning Funnel ($2)
Mason Jars ($12-$20) (Interesting note: Mason Jars were not invented by the fraternal organization, the Masons, but the most prolific producer of Mason Jars is the Ball Company, founded by the Ball brothers.  Who were Masons.)
2-part Screw-on Lids ($2-$5)
I also recommend a good starter book like the Ball Blue Book of Preserving.  Simple clear instructions and good and delicious recipes. 

The beauty of this list?  Everything but the lid inserts are reusable.  Year after year, and all you need to spend is about $2 for lid inserts.  Not bad.

When canning, think safety.  It's not difficult, but it does take time.  Make sure everything is clean and sterilized.  That means LOTS of hot water.  Anything that touches food must be boiled in water for 10 minutes or more, and make certain you keep your hands clean.  Wash often.  The last thing you want is a case of botulism ruining everyone's dinner.  (Another interesting note: the prescription cosmetic Botox® is made from a variant of the botulinum toxin.) 

OK.  I admit, the possibility of killing everyone who tastes your food adds a little thrill to what would normally be a boring dinner, but that's not why I cherrish canning.  I love it because once you have a little practice, you'll find culinary inspiration everywhere.  Spices and herbs, fruits and vegetables: all of these can be put into a jar and canned to be taken to new gastronomical heights. 

Tonight for dinner:

Carrots Caramelized in Fig and Ginger
2 tablespoons Olive Oil
8 large Carrots, peeled and cut into quarters (in half length-wise, then in half across)
2 cloves Garlic, minced
2 tablespoons fresh Ginger, peeled and minced
1/4 cup Dry White Wine
1 Bay Leaf
Salt and Pepper
3 tablespoons Fig Preserves

Heat the oil in a skillet over medium high heat for 60 seconds.  Reduce the heat to medium and add the carrots, garlic and ginger; saute for 3-4 min until the garlic softens and turns aromatic. Add the white wine and bay leaf, cover the pan and simmer for 14-16 minutes. 

When the carrots have softened but still firm (you don't want them mushy!), remove the lid and turn up the heat.  Most of the wine should evaporate, leaving just a little liquid in the bottom of the skillet.  Remove the bay leaf and add the fig preserves.  Stir until the preserves dissolve into a syrup, then reduce the heat.  Keep stirring until the preserves thicken into a caramel-looking goo and all of the carrots are evenly glazed.

Oven Roasted Tomato Sauce
This is arguably my "signature" dish.  It is certainly my wife's favorite.  It takes time, but the results are incredibly worthwhile.
4 tablespoons Olive Oil
Salt and Pepper to taste
1 Onion, chopped
4 cloves Garlic, crushed
1 quart Canned Tomatoes, chopped, liquid included
1/2 teaspoons Crushed Red Chili Flakes (to taste)
2 Anchovies
1 Carrot, peeled and chopped
1 Bell Pepper, seeded and large diced
1/4 cup dry White Wine
1/2 teaspoon Sugar (if needed)
3 tablespoons fresh Oregano, chopped
8-10 Button Mushrooms, sliced (optional)

Heat your oven to 250 degrees.  Combine the tomatoes, chili, carrots, garlic, onions, peppers and pour into a cookie sheet with walled sides.  Pour slowly or you'll make a heck of a mess. Drizzle olive oil over the top. Spread evenly on the pan and bake for two and half to three hours, stirring and turning over the mixture every 30 minutes. Repeat until the liquid no longer pools in the pan and the tomatos appear intense in color. 

In a large saucepan, heat 1 tablespoon olive oil over medium heat and add the anchovies.  Stir and mash until the anchovies dissolve.  Add the oven roasted tomato sauce.  Mix well, and using a stick blender, break the sauce down. Stir in the oregano. Add the mushrooms and keep warm over lowest heat.  Serve over fresh pasta with a little cheese. 

Spiced Honey
1 cup Honey
2 quarter-inch slices of Lemon
1 stick Cinnamon
2 pods Green Cardamom
6-8 whole Cloves

In a saucepan, heat the all of the ingredients and boil for 2 minutes.  Pour all of the ingredients into a sterilized 1/2 pint jar.  Seal with a sterile 2 part lid and process in a water bath for 10 minutes.  Let the honey season for at least a week or two.  

Dumbing It Down vs Guilty Pleasures

'When I use a word,' Humpty Dumpty said, in rather a scornful tone, 'it means just what I choose it to mean — neither more nor less.'  --Lewis Carroll, Through the Looking Glass

Today I feel a good rant coming on.  I gotta get some things off of my chest.

Language is exceptionally powerful.  It's true that the mind thinks in pictures and raw emotions, but words stimulate the mind into creating a tangible image to grasp.  If you doubt what I mean, think about the pronoun in each of the following sentences: "She became the president of the company."  "One never knows."  "He left the station at 3:00."  Who were the "she," "one," and "he" mentioned?  What did their faces look like?  Was the "one" male or female? 

So, if you follow my argument, and agree that the words we use change the audience's world by giving them new mind pictures to experience, what happens when we start simplifying the language we use?  It's subtle.  For example, a Martini is a beverage that has 5 parts gin, 1 part dry vermouth, and garnished with a lemon twist or an olive.  So a patron walking up to the bar and asking for a martini made with her favorite vodka is akin to asking for a hamburger but replace the meat with tofu.  We've changed what's in it, therefore, we cannot name it the same thing.  At the very least we should now call it a vodka martini or a tofu burger.  And yes, vodka is the tofu of the alcohol world.  (Tilapia is the tofu of the fish world, but that's another rant.) 

I also see generic over-generalizations, for example "cooking dinner."  "Cooking" demands a procedure of steps to take a set of basic ingredients and combine them into a common mass that is greater than the sum of its parts.  Cooking is NOT opening a can or a package and heating the contents inside.  Even if you closely follow a recipe, "cooking" involves some level of risk.  It allows for both failure and serendipity.  "Cooking" is art and therefore how much of yourself you put in is a variance of degree--analogous in range of a paint-by-number to Michelangelo's Sistine Chapel.

And if you think I'm being melodramatic, I would further suggest that our over-simplification of "cooking dinner" by opening a package and (perhaps) applying heat has gone a long way to contributing to the "food deserts" that lead to both poor nutrition and obesity.  Andrew Zimmern writes a rather scathing and insightful article on the very topic.  Please read it.

Food and language are the mediums about which I most enjoy being self-righteous, but we can all find numerous idiocies that give us crazy eyes.  Television programming (how can there be that many shows about hoarders/antique treasure seekers/ghost and monster hunters/dating rituals of the self-absorbed/B-list celebrities gasping for one last breath of fame?); or driving through the city, dodging a never ending slalom of construction during rush hour; and American political rhetoric.  The list can go on, ad nauseum. In short, we--probably all humans, to some extent, but many Americans, in particular--have institutionally (and lingually and cullinarily) sacrificed the absolute glory and majesty of what's available for a silver bullet of the least common denominator. 

But here we come to the irony of Humpty's statement, above.  Humpty Dumpty is a jerk.  By being so persnickety in his use of language, he would entirely alienate himself from everyone else, and in his isolation would miss out on one of life's greatest joys: the Guilty Pleasure. 

Most of the inane television listed above exists solely to satisfy our guiltiest of pleasures, Shadenfruede.  I confess that I, too, can find myself engrossed in a good episode of Cops.  But remember, I am also quite fond of Spam.  Both are satisfying on occasion. 

That's where I will leave this conversation.  With the idea that, in responsibility and recognition of what we doing, bad things can be really good.  But if we simply accept the banal and lazy ways of the herd, we are destined to be treated as cattle.  Life is too rich not to enjoy it all.  Or as a great man once said (maybe it was Shakespeare, Walter Cronkite or Hagar the Horrible), "Everything in moderation.  But don't overdo it." 

For breakfast, a by-definition-not-cooking-breakfast:

A cheese platter of
Gran Queso
Stilton with Mango
Vermeer Reduced fat Gouda
Menage
Saxon Creamery Big Ed's Cheese

Sliced White-flesh Freestone Peach

Farmers Rye Bread, toasted in a skillet

Applewood Smoked Bacon

Yellowtail Bubbles Sparkling Rosé


P.S. I recognize that I'm neither the first nor the best in ranting about the dumbing down of food or language. "It is what it is," is a phrase that needs to be done away with all together so that we might actually have a conversation about what "it" is. "Have a good one" is a throw-away dismissal that could be so much more rewarding if the receiver heard, "Have a wonderful afternoon." My all time favorite commentary about American's poor writing skills is one writer's passion for Alot. Read it. Laugh out loud. No, I mean seriously laugh out loud, not just LOL.

It's Got To Be 5 O'Clock Somewhere...

I don’t enjoy cooking. To me, sustenance cooking is possibly the most boring kind of cooking there is and it’s the kind of cooking that happens the most often. I just don’t like it. I hate it. I am uninspired.

This isn’t your usual friendly host.

This is his, “lovely bride,” his “better half,” his “beloved,” or any other examples by which he has referred to me in his previous blog posts.

Hello!

In the 16 years that my husband and I have been married, I have cooked dinner for the two of us 13 times. 13. Not a typo.  (I admit I might be the luckiest girl in the world.)  Now, that’s not to say that I can’t cook.  I can.  I am a firm believer in the adage that, “if you can read, then you can cook.” (But occasionally cooking by reading leads to food that’s less than inspired).  Plus, my first middle school teaching job was half art and half home economics, so I was responsible for teaching 30 pre-pubescent children how to cook without burning the school down.  Which I did.  I just don’t want to cook at home.

But “a marriage is a partnership,” and all that, and I want to continue to be fed in the manner that I have become accustomed to so I try to find ways of contributing to the evening meal.  More often than not I try to know what I want to eat for dinner that night so my "chef" has a direction he can follow.  I stay out of the way, as our little galley kitchen is too small for the both of us.  I can load a mean dishwasher.  And I like to drink.  Which initially doesn’t seem helpful to the dinner process, but it is the reason your usual blogger requested I take over this week’s blog.

Back story: My husband and I have a raspberry patch.  In fact, this patch is bigger than our kitchen.  When we moved into our home it was cute and small and manageable and I was excited to see it, remembering the raspberries that I lived across the street from when I was a child.  Now the patch is no longer manageable.  I say this in the midst of picking season so I might be a little spiteful, but in truth, next year I will need to be more ruthless in the thinning out of the bushes.  There are so many berries that picking for an hour and a half everyday keeps me just barely on top of supply.  We freeze many bags of berries.

A few years ago, when I was in a similar glut of berries, I went on an interweb search of things to do with raspberries other than jam, pie, and the other usual suspects.  I was to the point of looking for a recipe for facial scrub as we had had our fill of eating them and it seemed like a great idea, what with all those seeds.  No such luck.  But I did find a recipe for Raspberry Liqueur.  Thankfully it called for huge quantity of berries.  I made the first batch and that jug was the humble beginning of a bigger love of alcohol with stuff in it.

The cocktail has always had an air of sophistication and specialness about it.  Lucky for the cocktail, it has seen a renaissance in the recent years.  “Speakeasies” are popping up like Whack-A-Moles around the nation (which in itself is a bit of an oxymoron) and the general public is more inclined to pay handsomely for a bespoke cocktail.  Especially when the ingredients in them are as fleeting as the seasons they come from.  Green Russell, you know how I love you.  So what’s a girl to do if her purse isn’t as large as her love of good hooch?  Make her own, of course!

Infusions are the easiest to start with.  Pick a flavor or flavors you love (or an ingredient you have too much of), put it in a big glass jar, cover it with your chosen liquor and wait.  At this point a cool, dark room or cabinet is your friend.  The waiting is the hardest part, even though in this instance it’s only for a few days.  Soaking time is up to you.  Obviously the shorter the soak, the milder the flavors.  A great cheat sheet has been provided by DIY Cocktails by Marcia Simmons and Jonas Halpren.  Use it!  However a good point of reference is, generally speaking, one part ingredient to one part liquor, i.e. 1 Cup Raspberries to 1 Cup Vodka (just make sure the berries are totally covered).

Liqueurs are slightly more work, but infinitely sweeter.  Same general process as an infusion but with simple syrup added at the end. Soaking time increases from a few days to a few weeks or months.  During processing, I take the extra effort to push out as much of the juices prior to adding the simple syrup as possible, just to have as much yummy goodness as I can.  With liqueurs, the older the better! As they sit (if you can refrain from drinking them right away) the flavors mellow and develop.  A processed batch that is a year old is better than a processed batch that is new.  Lemoncello falls into this category, as well.

Bitters have excellently scary ingredients in them like Worm Wood and Gentian Root and are more my husband’s realm as I gave him all the necessary accoutrement for Christmas a little while ago.  We use them in our Manhattans and Rob Roys while we watch Mad Men and covet the furniture and clothes…

And then we are sort of out of my area of expertise.  I really have no desire to make my own beer, but would I one day like to have a still in a shack out back?  Hellz yes!  Who doesn’t remember the hotness of Bo and Luke Duke??!!  But for now I will settle for my basement looking a bit like a science lab, what with all the bottles of unidentifiable soaking in fluids.

What’s for Happy Hour

Sour Cherry-infused Vodka
Again, quantities are up to you.  We have a Sour Cherry tree in the back yard so I currently have A LOT of Cherries soaking.  Didn’t want the squirrels and birds to have all the fun.
2 Cups Sour Cherries
2 Cups Vodka (or Gin or Whiskey or Rum) Your favorite brand is fine, but don’t feel the need to buy top shelf.  In fact, now is the time to be frugal.  The cheaper the better.  Skol or some other brand of that nature is great.

Put the cherries in a clear, glass jar. Agitate daily. Wait 3+ days before drinking. You can sneak a nip every day or so to see what the flavors have done. But be careful you don’t nip it all away…

Simple Syrup
I like my simple syrup to sweeten up whatever infusion seems like it needs it. 1oz of simple syrup with 4 oz of the above Sour Cherry Infusion, with a couple dashes of Orange Bitters, shaken in a cocktail shaker tastes like Cherry Pie in a glass.

Most of the instructions you will find for making simple syrup say to combine 1 part sugar with 1 part water and bring to a boil, stirring until the fluid is clear. This process sucks for me as standing by a hot stove waiting for sugar to dissolve is uncomfortable and boring. Instead I use the same quantities (1 to 1) but instead of adding the sugar to the water at the beginning, I bring my water to a boil FIRST and then add the sugar. The granules melt much faster this way and you don’t have to be right on top of the heat the whole time. If I’m making the syrup in large batches to have on hand (it keeps in the refrigerator) I will add the sugar to the boiling water in increments, being sure the liquid turns clear before I add the next increment. 2 cups water plus 2 cups sugar make a little less than 4 cups of fluid. You can also add additional ingredients to the fluid to make flavored simple syrup. I have included a table spoon of Lavender to the 1 cup/ 1cup as I was melting/low boiling the sugar in the water. It is lovely in gin (or iced tea, but what fun is that?). You can also add fresh mint, great for a quick Mojito or Mint Julep. Basil could also be great. Store in the fridge in a glass jar with a lid.

Raspberry Liqueur
4 Cups Raspberries
4 Cups Vodka or Brandy or Vendome (a brandy and cognac blend)
2 Cups water
½ Cup Sugar

Put the berries and booze in a clear, glass jar being sure that the berries are covered by the liquid. Store in a cool, dark spot like your basement. Agitate occasionally for 4 to 6 weeks. Drain the fluid from the berries. I like to use my pasta pot with a built in, bowl sized colander for this. With a wooden spoon press out as much of the remaining juices/ alcohol as you can. The berries will pretty much turn to mush.

In a sauce pot boil the water. Add the sugar. Cool.

Note: this simple syrup is far less sweet than the recipe above but that’s ok as the berry juice is already pretty sweet.

When the simple syrup is cool stir into the berry juices. Store in a glass container. If you can wait another month before you drink it, like I mentioned earlier, it will just get better and better.

Alert!! Don’t throw those berries away!!  I like to use all the parts of my berries and let nothing go to waste. Matte and I have made milkshakes with boozy berries. Matte melted chocolate and made Vodka Raspberry Chocolate Bark simply by laying the berries out on a cookie sheet covered in parchment paper, insuring there was enough space between the berries to allow the chocolate to act as a binding agent. He refridegerated it all for about an hour to have it set.

I’ve been long-winded but I hope you’ve enjoyed my contribution. See you in future posts, maybe…

H.

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year (Updated)

It's my birthday.  Hands down, it's the best time of the year.  The whole nation celebrates with fireworks and cookouts.  You are given the day off from work.  There will be baseball games and parades, classic car shows and concerts in the park.  However, because I cannot be everywhere at once (well, yes I can.  I am with you in your heart) I thought I would invite you, virtually, into my backyard. 

First thing you have to know, our backyard is less yard and more contained open space.  Like a parent who calls her poorly behaved child, "energetic," "a free spirit," or my favorite, an Indigo Child, I have labeled my bad backyard "natural," and "feral."  Our house is known locally as The Jungle House.  We have a lot of plants that would be considered weeds in most backyards.  (We have many edible plants, as well.)  Needless to say, we don't have a classy swimming pool.  We don't even have a less classy but still refreshing above ground pool.  What we have is the quaint and oh-so-charming blue plastic wading pool that our dog loves to stand in and drink. 

So the idea of Pirate Night in our back yard for my birthday celebration seemed rather incongruous on a hot summer night in Colorado. 

And yet, it was oh so right. 

We started off with drinks and caprese salad, then mango, papaya and grilled pineapple with a butter, bourbon and brown sugar sauce.  Followed by a corn casserole, smoked crab legs, and Caribbean Merpig.  (Ok, I made that one up.  There are no such things as Merpigs.  Neither are there mermaids or mermen.  Nor North Dakota for that matter.  North Dakota is actually a fictional land created by both Canadians and "South" Dakotans to make themselves feel better.  "At least we don't live in North Dakota!" they all say.)  I made a wonderful Tres Leches cake for dessert.  We wore eye patches and temporary tattoos and folded paper hats.

Of course, it's already late and I'm sleepy.  I'll give you recipes and the rest of the story soon.

Part 2 (still soon):

A successful party depends on many things: the decorations, the food, the activities, the guests.  My lovely and artistic bride made a tablecloth and a new cushion for a little foot stool.  We strung LED lights along the ribs of the picnic umbrella.  We tore out most of the inedible weeds.  We kept the party small so that we could all sit around one table.  We didn't invite kids (so nice being a DINK).  Mother Nature cooperated by cooling off later in the evening.  My awesome brother provided rum drinks and the bar tending service after wisely picking Chris's brain--our favorite bartender at Green Russell.

Blessedly, the guests themselves became the activity.  Not everyone knew each other but by the end of the evening, new friendships were founded.  And there were pirate hats folded out of newspaper and eye patches made for children that, when worn by an adult with a normal-sized adult head, would pinch the blood off above the eyebrows and make the top of your melon turn an unsightly purple, thus increasing the necessity of the hats.  It was fun applying tattoos--in some cases on each other.

We blissfully avoided singing Happy Birthday to me. 

All-in-all, it was most every wish granted. 

For a pirate-themed birthday try:

Butter, Brown Sugar and Bourbon Sauce
1/2 stick Butter
1/2 cup packed Dark Brown Sugar
1/3 cup Bourbon
Melt the butter and sugar together in a sauce pan, stirring constantly.  When nearly melted and before it starts bubbling, slowly pour in the bourbon.  Stir until the sugar is completely melted, reduce the heat to a simmer and let it reduce to a nice syrup, about 15-20 minutes. 

Pour over fresh fruit, ice cream, popcorn or almost any other dessert. 


Caribbean Merpig (or Caribbean Inspired Rack of Ribs)
1 rack of Pork Ribs
Rub:
3/4 cup packed Brown Sugar
3 tablespoons Red Chili Powder (I recommend medium Chimayo chili powder)
1 1/2 tablespoons Baking Cocoa Powder
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon ground Cinnamon
Mop Sauce:
3 tablespoons butter
1/4 cup Spicy Brown Mustard
1/4 cup Yellow Mustard
1/4 cup packed Brown Sugar
1/4 cup Honey
pinch of Salt
1 teaspoon fresh ground Allspice

Lay the ribs on a large piece of tinfoil, bones-side (less meaty side) up.  Thoroughly combine all of the ingredients for the rub.  Pour about 1/3-1/2 of the rub on the bones side.  Using your fingers, spread it evenly all over the meat.  Flip the ribs over and repeat with the remaining rub.  Seal the ribs in tinfoil, crimping the sides and ends as best you can.  Place on a cookie sheet and pop into a 250 degree oven.  Bake for about 2 1/2 hours.  Meanwhile, combine all the mop ingredients in a saucepan and cook until melty and smooth and tasty. 

Start a 2 level fire in your charcoal grill.  When you start the coals, increase the heat in the oven to 400 degrees.  When the coals have ashed over, lay green cherry wood twigs on the coals, remove the ribs from the tinfoil and lay over the cool part of the grill, bones-side down.  With a brush, apply the mop sauce to the meaty parts.  Close the lid and ventilate so the smoke pours out in thick clouds. 

Every 15 minutes or so, add mop sauce and new wood.   Repeat for about an hour.  Remove from the heat and let rest, covered for 20 minutes. 


Tres Leches Cake
This remarkable beast is the culmination of 2 days of patience and amazing physics of porous cake.  I adapted this from an April 2005 edition of Better Homes and Gardens.  The cake will weigh 9 pounds when its done.  Invite friends.
1 package White Cake Mix
3/4 stick of Butter, softened
6 eggs
1/2 cup Water
2 tablespoons grated Lime Peel
2 cups of fresh Strawberries, sliced
Tres Leches Sauce:
2 12oz cans Evaporated Milk
2 14oz cans Sweetened Condensed Milk
2 cups Heavy Cream
Topping:
1 cup Whipping Cream
1/4 cup Super Fine Sugar
1 teaspoon Vanilla Extract

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.  Grease up 2 9 inch round cake pans.  In a large mixing bowl, combine the cake mix, butter, eggs, water and lime peel.  With a mixer, on low speed beat until combined.  Beat at medium speed for 2 minutes.  Spread evenly between the 2 pans.  Bake for 45-50 minutes or until a chopstick inserted into the middle, comes out clean. 

While the cake is cooking, make the sauce.  In a large sauce pan, combine the 3 milks.  Heat and stir until it lightly boils.  Cover and place in the fridge to take the heat out a little. 

Cool the cakes in the pans for 10 minutes, then turn out out onto a cooling rack.  If you're really persnickety, you'll trim off the high points of the cakes so they will lay flat when placed on top of each other.  (If you're persnickety AND hungry, you'll eat the trimmings.  Let's not let anything go to waste.)

Lay the strawberries evenly on the top of one of the rounds of cake.  Place the other round on top.  With plastic wrap, completely line the sides and bottom of a large straight sided soup pot.  (I use a very cheap kitchen trash bag.  Non-scented, non-extra-chemicalled.)  Invert the cake and lay it in the bottom of the pan.  Poke the cake with a chopstick until it it has many wholes evenly spread out all over the cake.  (Hint: you are making a sponge.)

Pour 4 cups of tres leches sauce over the cake. Cover and refrigerate overnight. 

One hour before serving, pour over one more cup of the sauce.  Chill some more.

15 minutes before serving make the topping.  Whip the cream to very soft peaks and slowly add the sugar and vanilla.  Continue to whip until it forms very stiff peaks.  In one fluid motion, turn the cake out onto a serving dish with a lip on it.  This cake WILL make a mess.  Frost the cake with whipped cream. 

Slice and serve. 


And, like staying to the end of the credits in some movies, you've stayed to the end of the blog and you will be rewarded with some out takes.  Shame will now ensue.

What treasure could this contain?

This is the face of a man who may
 or may not have enjoyed a few rum beverages.

Oh My!!  What body part is this?

Mysteries Around the Corner

We've driven past them.  We've wondered about them.  And maybe we were afraid to step inside.  This is the start of a series of blog posts about the ethnic markets in our (and most likely your) neighborhood and the adventures to be found there.  

I consider Denver rather cosmopolitan.  My lovely wife and I have lived in Santa Fe, Toronto and Denver.  We've traveled around the world and we love to explore our own back yard.  And I can say with confidence, Denver is cosmopolitan (as well as perfectly homey.)  People come to Colorado from all over the nation and from around the world.  We have a long history of booms and expansions that required labor--sometimes mental, sometimes back breaking.  During the early years of our state, mining and the railroad industry required many workers, and while the pay was often too little for most Americans, the wages still attracted immigrants looking to start a new life in the US.  In most metropolitan communities, these same immigrants settled to create their own ethnically unique neighborhoods.  It's curious, then, that Denver and its suburbs do not have a Chinatown, even though thousands of Chinese immigrated to Colorado during the late 1800’s and early 1900’s. According to a recent article in the Denver Post, racism played a big part in the destruction of our local Asian community during the 1920's.  But thankfully, we still have an extraordinary Asian presence here.

Which is not to say that I've soaked any of it up through osmosis.  Yes, I minored in Chinese in college, and I studied Asian literature and religion extensively, but I do not know what the hell I'm doing in the Pacific Ocean Market. Yes, I've been to the Market on many occasions, but really only ever to buy ingredients.  I never really explored with the intention of pushing my boundaries and then writing about it.   

On entering the supermarket (and it really is super!) it looks very much like a King Soopers or Safeway or other big chain supermarket that you may know and use regularly.  There is a bakery, a produce section, aisles arranged in common thematic elements, frozen foods, etc.  But getting in close, you'll notice some significant differences.  Glazed pork and whole ducks (including heads) hang in cases.  The vegetables often don't have English writing on then, but rather Chinese (or Korean, Japanese, Thai or Hindi, as appropriate).  When we asked what certain vegetables were, neither staff nor customers seemed to know.  (I found out that one of the items was Bitter Melon, and as the name implies, was absolutely horrible.  More later.)  But for the day, we found more gems than things we loathed.

As discussed in numerous previous blog entries, I seek out culinary adventure.  So I intended to try things that I had never tried before.  I confess, I chickened out in a couple of instances, but I pushed myself as much as I reasonably could.  And not knowing what I was doing, I made the most of my experiences. 

 

A Sample of the Haul: seaweeds, dried mushrooms, candies, unusual beverages, vegetables and a cuttlefish

We picked up dried seaweeds (seasoned laver and something I couldn't understand), dried mushrooms (shitake and black fungus), fresh vegetables (leeks and lotus root), dried noodles (rice, bean and mung), sauces (coconut milk, fermented fish).  We explored the frozen foods and found fish balls (go ahead--insert joke here), chicken parts I don't normally associate with food, whole fish and squids and octopuses, shrimp, scallops and other shellfish and many things we couldn't identify.  I picked out a large cuttlefish for dinner.

We journeyed down aisle after aisle of canned foods, pastes, broths, jellies, dried noodles and vegetables and preserved fauna and flora of all types.  I picked up a tin of Fried Bamboo Caterpillars, which I love toasted in a hot skillet with a dusting of chili powder.  We lingered for a long time looking at the marvels of the teas and cookies and candies.  What a celebration of flavors!

We asked questions of people who looked like they knew what they were doing, but just the same as if someone in King Soopers asked me, "Do you know what this is?" or "How do you prepare that?" I'd more likely than not be nonplussed. 

With all of the exploration, and all the amazing things we brought home, I wasn't sure what to do or what to try.  I started off with something I know: technique.  As Chef Michael Symon says, "Learn a recipe, you can cook a delicious dish; learn a technique and you can create a meal out of almost anything."   My beloved wife and my brother were kind enough to let me experiment on them.  Here's the result.

 

The finished meal.  Mung Bean Noodles, Seaweed Salad, Poached Cuttlefish, Stir Fried Lotus Root and a tasty beverage

So whenever you feel like you may be in a rut, when you need to try something new or when you seek inspiration, look no further than your own neighborhood and find a world of adventure.

For dinner:


Cuttlefish Poached in Coconut Milk and Lemongrass
I first had cuttlefish, stuffed and grilled in Little Portugal in Toronto.  The flesh is meaty, fleshy, mild, yet flavorful.  I didn't have the opportunity to stuff or grill it, so I took a different approach.
20oz Cuttlefish, cleaned and prepared (innards, beak and cuttle bone removed; talk to your fishmonger, if you'd like)
1/4 cup Olive Oil
1/2 teaspoon Salt
16oz can Coconut Milk
3 stalks Lemongrass

Sprinkle the cuttlefish on all sides with the salt and slide into a large plastic bag.  Add the olive oil and squish it around until the cuttlefish is completely covered.  Let stand for 45 min to an hour.

Trim the lemongrass.  Using a heavy, sharp knife, remove the root-end, up about a 1/4 inch.  Cut about 4 inches up from the root side of the stalk, or about where the flesh goes from firm to loose leaves.  Then split that shorter stalk length-wise.

Get a skillet large enough to hold the whole cuttlefish and get it hot on the highest heat your stove has.  Slide the cuttlefish (and its attendant oil) into the skillet and sear the cuttlefish for 2-3 minutes.  Using long tongs, flip the cuttlefish and sear the other side. 


Reduce the heat to low and immediately add the lemongrass.  Add the coconut milk.  Cover and let simmer for 45 minutes.  Really, now is the time for low and slow.  If you cook it too hot, you will be chewing on rubber. 

Slice and serve.

Seaweed Salad
Turning dried seaweed into salad is far more palatable than it may sound.  And pretty darn easy, too.
1/2 cup Dried Seaweed, chopped into 1/2 inch lengths (I know there are many different kinds of seaweed, but for the life of me I cannot discover what type or species this one is.  It simply says "Contents: Dried Seaweed."  The Inuit reportedly have a whole slew of words for snow, and I have to believe that the Japanese would have more than one word to describe seaweed, but the translators of the packaging will only offer us the one word I already know.  "Seaweed.")  (And this is a good example of me having some good-natured ribbing.  Did you even click through the last link and read the article?  Well, go ahead.  I'll still be here when you get back.)
4-6 cups cold Water
3-4 tablespoons Sesame Oil (I used chili-infused sesame oil for a bit of kick)
3 tablespoons Rice Wine Vinegar
1/2 teaspoon sugar
Salt and pepper to taste
2 Scallions, sliced thin
Sprinkle of toasted Sesame Seeds

Immerse the dried seaweed in the cold water until it completely hydrates (about 30 minutes). In the meantime, combine the oil, vinegar and sugar in a blender.  Blend for 20-30 seconds.  Taste it and add salt, pepper, more vinegar or sugar, as needed.  Blend again, to combine, right before using the dressing. 

 Drain the seaweed thoroughly.  Toss with the dressing and serve.  Garnish with scallions and sesame seeds.



Stir Fried Lotus Root with Black Fungus
1 Lotus Root, Whole
A large bowl of cold water (2-3 quarts) with 2 tablespoons vinegar mixed in

1 cup Dried Black Fungus (or other mushroom)
A similarly large bowl of near-boiling water (or a pot--you want to have a cover for it)
1 Leek, trimmed, cleaned and sliced into very thin rings
1 clove Garlic, minced
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
A drizzle of Soy Sauce
1 teaspoon Red Pepper Flakes (more or less to taste)

Using a sharp knife, remove the outer skin of the lotus root.  Slice the root into 1/4-3/8 inch slices.  Try to keep the rounds intact, as the visual elegance is part of the appeal.  Put the slices into the vinegar water.  (This helps to keep the lotus root from discoloring and removes some of the alkali taste.)  Add the dried fungus to the hot water and cover.  Wait on both of these for 30-45 minutes. 

When the fungus has completely rehydrated, drain it and chop into bite-sized pieces.  Drain the lotus root.  On high heat, get your wok (or large frying pan) very hot.  (A drop of water should sizzle and evaporate almost instantly.)  Add the vegetable oil to the wok and wait 30-45 seconds.  The oil should start to smoke.  Carefully add the lotus root (the oil WILL pop so be very careful!) and saute for 2 minutes.  Add the fungus.  Saute for 1 minute.  Add the leek, garlic, pepper flakes and toss to combine.  Add a little soy sauce for flavor, toss to combine and serve.

Dark Rum and Young Coconut Drink
We found a number of interesting beverages at the Pacific Ocean Market.  Honey and Basil Seed Drink, Aloe Juice, Lemon Soda (with a marble in the bottle) and Young Coconut Drink.  Young coconut Drink is very sweet and has shavings of coconut suspended in it.  It goes great with a fine dark rum.  In this case we mixed rum to Young Coconut Drink in a 2:3 ratio and served over ice in a rocks glass. 

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