For My Mom

I love my mom. She has a gift for laughing at my jokes. She let’s me win occasionally at cribbage or dominos. She raised my brothers and I to ask questions. And she loves to cook. She’s good at it. I have a passion for food in large part because of her. 

Whenever we get together now, be it for a week, a weekend or even overnight, she has me (and/or my brother if he’s along) prepare a meal.  (My other brother is out of state and doesn’t visit as much, otherwise the same is asked of him.) All of us love to cook and we all take pride in our respective expertise. I admit however, that I probably fail the most. I’m not good at following directions; never have been. It’s not because I can’t. I am compelled to do things my way, just to see if I can. I make things up and fly by the seat of my pants. It’s an ego thing. When it works, I look like a freaking genius. When it doesn’t, I apologize all over the place and blame outside circumstances. My brother has rightly pointed out that my biggest cooking flaw is timing. In trying to control for that, I like reducing as many moving parts as is possible. One pot cooking, or casseroles are the easiest, followed by some kind of meat dish with mashed potatoes and a side salad of greens. Something easy. 

When I’m with family, I’m a little more experimental in flavors and technique. I try to make it all work, but maybe the timing is off or the flavors don’t quite come together. My mom is still kind, loving and forgiving. She still says how much she loves the dish, even if no one actually does.  She’s good for my ego.

I love my mom. 

This recipe worked really well. She loved it and wanted me to post it. I told her I would. As promised, here it is.

 Shrimp Pot Pie

2 sheets Puff Pastry

1 large Onion, small diced

3 large Carrots, small diced

3 Celery stalks, small slices

No one would fault you if you wanted to add some Garlic. 

3/4 cup chopped Mushrooms

2 lbs large Shrimp, shells off

1 cup White Wine

1 cup Heavy Cream

Bay Leaves

Thyme

Preheat oven to 400° 

I buy frozen puff pastry so I start thawing it out while I’m cutting up the vegetables. (If you make your own puff pastry I low key hate you. But I also admire you. Seriously though, stop it you show off.) 

In a deep skillet, on medium-high heat sauté the carrot for 3 minutes in a little olive oil. Add the onion and celery and sauté for another 3 minutes. Take the veggies out and set aside. 

Put the shrimp into the pan and spread them out so they are all on one layer. Sprinkle with dried thyme, or add sprigs if you are using fresh. Add the bay leaves. Cook for a couple of minutes and flip the shrimp. Cook for another minute (the shrimp should be slightly under cooked) and add the mushrooms. Turn the heat down to medium low-ish. Add the vegetables back into the pan. Season with salt and pepper. 

Pour in the white wine and simmer for 5 minutes. Remove the sprigs of thyme and bay leaves. Pour in the cream and return to a simmer. 

While simmering, roll out your puff pastry following the package instructions. (If you made your own, screw you; you know what you’re doing. But also, I am impressed.) Turn off the heat on the stove—it’s good now. Flip your deep pie dish upside down on one sheet of pastry and cut a circle a little large than the size of the pie dish. With the other sheet of pastry, cover the bottom and sides of pie dish, and trim it, leaving enough to overlap the edge of the upcoming pastry “lid.”

When the shrimp and goodness filling has stopped bubbling, use a slotted spoon and start filling up the pie. When everything is separated out, pour some of the liquid over shrimp mix. I used about half. This is the “gravy” in the savory pie. Use as much as you like. 

Top the pie with its pastry lid and crimp the edges. Poke holes in the top and stick that pie into the hot oven, on the center rack.

Bake for 30-35 min or until the top is a deep browned color and the goo inside is bubbling. Take it out of the oven and let it rest for 10 minutes. Serve and eat. (Serves 8. Or 4 gluttons.) 

The $110 Appetizer and the Gifts that Followed

Describing Venice as a "labyrinth" has the metaphoric equivalency of calling the Adriatic Sea "moist."  

Remember back to the SATs?  Venice : Labyrinth :: Adriatic Sea : ?

Get my meaning?  Good.  Then you'll understand what a remarkable feat it was even finding our hotel let alone the serendipity of finding one of the best restaurants in the whole city.

We took the train from Florence to Venice (assisted by a few very pleasant gypsies who helped fleece us out of 10 Euros more than they should have) and arrived at a train station.  Not entirely remarkable to itself, as we were traveling by train (see previous sentence), however, only in Venice will the train station be on the bank of a major water way trimmed in grand architecture dating back to the 13th to 18th centuries.  Speaking with the European tourists who frequent the city, we learned of the Vaporetti--the water buses that are the most commonly accessed water transport.  Studying multiple maps, we gained a good sense of what stop we needed and so we settled into the ride--jostling with locals and tourists from around the globe, and getting swept up in the sights of Venice.

We arrived at our stop, but on exiting the vaporetto, we had no markers to indicate which "street" would lead us to our hotel.  Wheeling our luggage behind us, we entered the closest alleyway to us.  As it turns out, everything in Venice that isn't water and isn't a building is either a bridge, a piazza or an alley.  And since the only land transportation is walking, size of alley doesn't really indicate the importance of the alley.  Wide alleys may dead end and narrow alleys may lead exactly where you want to go.  So it was with this alley we chose.  I remember thinking, "this can't be right," because the alley was so narrow I could not wheel two suitcases behind me side-by-side without scraping them against the 4-story buildings defining the passage way. 

We passed restaurants in open piazzas (mid-afternoon, so most were closed for lunch but may have served some light fare) then ducked back into another alley--still without any real idea of our direction.    By happenstance we glanced up an another alley we thought SHOULD be close to our destination, and there it was: our hotel.

We checked in, got the scoop from the boys at the front desk, toweled off (SO HOT and HUMID!) and then went back outside to explore. 

Venice is everything I wanted it to be and so much more.  I could go back tomorrow and enjoy it as if it were my first time. 

Initially, I had a mind to try and live on a budget.  This is probably the financial advisor in me, but I was really trying to shop and eat on the cheap.  At least until lunch on the second day.  We found a good, out of the way place (everything is sort of out of the way: did I mention that Venice is a maze?) and ate some really wonderful cuisine: frutti di mare.  Then everything sort of fell into place in my mind--like finding that one long piece in Tetris that clears all the rows:  I'm ME.  I love food.  Why would I punish us by avoiding some of the best food opportunities in the world?  Budget minded living gets you Olive Garden Venice.

We walked back to the hotel that night and past a little restaurant not 50 feet from the front of our hotel door.  We had passed it every time we went into or exited from our hotel, but with my newly renovated mindset, I noticed a basket of wild mushrooms, including boletes--mushrooms of the finest quality.  I used to hunt mushrooms in New Mexico and those were prizes, if found.  Their locations were closely guarded secrets by any mycologist lucky enough to find them.  Now, here they were, half a world away, and no less prized.  We told the maitre d' that we needed a shower but we would be back soon. 

They set a table for us upwind from the smokers (everywhere is a designated smoking area in Venice, doubly so outside) and we ordered a bottle of wine and asked how the chef recommended the mushrooms.  Like climbing the steps to Heaven, my taste buds ascended to levels of ecstasy they had never before known.  We split a serving of the boletes as an appetizer, then a shared course of risotto with seafood, we shared a small steak and vegetables, and finished with a panna cotta for dessert.  THIS!  This is what I know we deserved. 

We returned the next two nights, playing a repeat of that same theme: The second night having ravioli for an appetizer, a chanterelles risotto, seafood entree, more wine, more panna cotta. The third night we looked to blow out all the stops. 

Flashback:  I remember in college, The Old Towne Ale House had dollar beers and 10 cent wings on Wednesday nights.  Wednesday night became my night of gluttony, damned be the consequences.  And sure enough, the consequences usually damned me, some way, some how, either that night or the next morning. 

A voice in the back of my head may have whispered that this was about to happen again.  On a much larger scale.

Damned be the consequences? 

We told the maitre d' that we'd be back in 45 minutes and asked if we could have what had become our table.  We cleaned up and changed, and made our way back.  Our regular server had the night off, but we had seen tonight's server the previous nights and he had been prepared for our evening--looking forward to it, even.  We asked what he recommended for a bottle of wine to which he said the maitre d' recommends a very special bottle for us.  We accepted the personalized recommendation.  Let the stop blowing begin.  I asked about the mushrooms for the day, and there was a special treat: in addition to the chanterelles of the previous night, they also had a very beautiful, very large and very fresh truffle from the mainland. Truffle risotto?  Fillet with a truffle sauce?  We elected to have a simple saute of chanterelles for an appetizer, cuttlefish and pasta, the fillet et truffle and then we'd decide on something for dessert. 

The mushrooms came out of the kitchen and our waiter presented us two plates, as opposed to our customary one.  He hadn't been serving us the previous nights, and I hadn't thought to tell him that we share the courses. (In all honesty, each serving was exceedingly generous.  There would be no way we could each have eaten that much food without sharing, and we wanted to try as many dishes as we could.  Hence: sharing.)  We indicated our preference to our new waiter, but the appitizer damage was done.  And since we weren't really ordering from the menu, we didn't know the price.  We didn't think (want?) to ask, either. 

Damned be the consequences.  We ordered another bottle of wine.

We smiled and joked with the staff, with other patrons (Hello, John "James" Bond 006 3/4.  We agree, you didn't quite make it.) and passers-by.  We watched as people passed, women dressed to impress in their short dresses and high heels, staggering not at all on the cobbled walkways, the families with beleaguered children (or sometimes parents) in tow, the young, the old, the wealthy, the middle class, all flowing like water through the passageways of Venice. 

The hours passed and our evening started to wrap up.  My beloved excused herself to the women's room and our waiter and some of the staff joined me at the table.  I expressed my gratitude for the hospitality and the wonderful cuisine of the last few days.  I discovered that all of the ingredients are as local as possible and some--like the chanterelles, boletes and truffles--may be found wild.  They then presented the bill.

I would love to believe that I had a good poker face.  I knew the tab would be high.  I know I held it together well enough, because everyone was still smiling as my beloved returned with the maitre d',  having been introduced to our chef.  I paid the tab and kept the receipt.  Later I discovered the appetizer--those lovely chanterelles, hand picked and lovingly prepared--came to 75 Euros.  The rest of the dinner, the bottles of wine, all added up to a pretty penny.  Damn those consequences.

Rather than leaving, our maitre d' invited us inside (completely empty--for all the bustle of the restaurant, everyone wanted to sit outside) and offered us limoncello.  We sat and sipped and talked of good food and travel.  We shared some of our favorite recipes, and they presented us with a cookbook.  We shook hands and embraced as appropriate and we took our leave.  We waddled up to our room to go to bed for our last night in Venice.  The gondoliers still paddled through the tight canal, four stories below our window, their lanterns looking like fireflies dancing over the water. 

We reflected: the food was wonderful, the people were terrific.  The bill was large but worth it and the cookbook was a charming gesture of the hospitality of our hosts.  From one family who enjoys food to another.  The consequences were not that damned bad.

Here are a few interpretations of our favorite Venitian cuisine.  Buon appetito!

Sauteed Chanterelles
If you're lucky enough to get fresh chanterelles, that's great!  If you can't, don't despair: they dry well and can easily be reconstituted.  Simply simmer for 5 minutes in water, or white wine and water, or broth.  Remove from the heat and let stand, submerged in the liquid and covered for 10 minutes.  When they've softened, trim off the tough stem ends.  Reserve the liquid to flavor other dishes (like risotto).

1 1/2 cups fresh or reconstituted Chanterelles (I'm partial to Golden, but Black are also available and delicious)
1 1/2  tablespoons of Butter
1 large clove of Garlic, minced
1 small Shallot, sliced very thin
1/4 cup Dry White Wine
1 tablespoon Parsley, minced, plus a few whole leaves for garnish

(If the mushrooms have been reconstituted, saute them in a dry skillet for a few minutes to steam out most of the residual liquid.  Then continue.)  Melt the butter in a skillet on medium high heat until it stops foaming, then add the garlic and shallots.  Stir gently for 60 seconds (or one minute--your choice.  I'm not picky.) then add the chanterelles.  Saute for 2-3 minutes, moving them gently, occasionally.  Add the minced parsley and saute with the chanterelles for another minute.  Add the wine and reduce the heat to medium low.  Let simmer for 3-4 more minutes. 

Garnish with a couple of whole parsley leaves and serve hot.

Fruiti di Mare
Most every culture that exists near the sea has some kind of seafood stew.  I can't think of any that don't, but then again, I'm not really trying.  This is one inspired by the seafoods available locally in eastern Italy, but adapted for the supermarket fish available in the mountains of Colorado.

1 lb Shrimp, shelled and deveined
1/2 lb each of live Clams and Mussels
1/2 lb small Squid, cleaned and cut into rings (and tentacles if you're lucky enough to get the whole squid)
10 Roma Tomatoes, chopped
2 cloves Garlic, minced
1 large Shallot, sliced fine
3 tablespoons fresh Parsley Leaves, minced
1/2 cup White Wine
Olive Oil
Salt
Red Pepper Flakes
1/2 cup Chicken or Fish Stock
Pasta (spaghetti or linguine)

In a large pan over medium high heat, add 1/4 cup of olive oil.  Wait 30 seconds until the oil can be swirled easily in the bottom of the pan, then add the garlic, shallots, 1 teaspoon salt and 1 (slightly rounded) teaspoon of red pepper.  Stir gently in the pan until the garlic has softened. Add the white wine and stock and cover.  Let come to a simmer and reduce heat.   Add the clams and mussels and cover the pan again. (Take care to sort out any with broken shells or which have already opened.)  Let simmer for 10 minutes until the shells have opened. 

Add the chopped tomatoes and 2 tablespoons of  parsley.  Cover and let simmer for 5 minutes.  Add more wine and stock if needed. 

Start a large pot of salted water to boil.  Cook the pasta according to directions.

As you put the dried pasta in the pot, add the shrimp and calamari to the tomatoes and shellfish.  Cover the pot.  Cook for about 5 minutes then stir to mix everything.   The shrimp should be pink and the calamari white.  Cover and remove from the heat.

Drain the pasta, and in a large bowl, combine the frutti di mare and the linguini and toss once or twice with tongs.  Sprinkle with the remaining parsley.  Serve in individual bowls with a little crostini on the side.

Limoncello
My beloved has been making this for years, but has recently changed the recipe. This is a wonderful after dinner liqueur, or you can mix it with sparkling water for a summer afternoon treat.

2 large, organic Lemons
Cheese Cloth and String
a large Glass Jar with a Lid

750 ml Pure Grain Alcohol (Everclear)

1 cup Water

1 cup Sugar 

juice of the 2 Lemons

 

Wrap the lemons in a piece of cheesecloth and tie the ends like a satchel, leaving enough string on both ends to hang a few inches below the top of the jar. 

 

Pour the alcohol into the glass jar. Holding the string ends, make sure the lemon does not touch the alcohol. Secure the string around the mouth of the jar and close the jar tightly.  (If your jar does not have an airtight seal, you can seal the lid by wrapping the seam with adhesive tape.)  Leave the jar in a cool, dark place for 3 months.  (Beauty like this takes time. Deal with it.)

 

When ready, prepare a syrup by combining the cold water and sugar. Simmer over medium heat until the mixture boils and the sugar dissolves completely.  Remove from the heat and allow the syrup to rest until completely cool.

Unseal the jar, remove and juice the lemons. Pour the alcohol into a large jar along with the syrup. Add the lemon juice.  Mix very well. Pour the mixture through a coffee filter into a bottle.

Cork the bottle and let it rest for at least 1 week before using it.  Or as long as you can stand.  I think we waited about 5 minutes. 

Reflections and Diminishing Returns

I was on the radio this past Friday.  It's always funny to hear how I sound when I hear my voice played back to me.  I get very self-conscious.  I can hardly sit still.  So while I was listening to the broadcast, my mind started to wander and I got to thinking about how we (people) view ourselves.  What creature of even moderate intelligence isn't fascinated by its own reflection?  Humans, even more so.

I considered what has shaped my opinion of my self.  Every story that I have created of every event of my life, however important or trivial has lead to the person I am today.  Every choice I have ever made leads me to where I am now.  Mom and Dad, my brothers, my wife, every girlfriend I've ever had, peer pressure from friends and frenemies, every mistake and every success are filtered, magnified, diminished, remembered and manipulated by my mind to create this persona.  I'm amazed at my own success of who I am, because of and in spite of, my own mind.

Pretty heavy so far?  You're doing this, too.

So I guess what this really means is that I, and I'll include you in this, too, so I'll say "we," are still making choices today that will lead to choices we get to make tomorrow.  I pretty much like me, but there is one thing that has been looming over my head: my health and physique.  I want to trim down a little.  Therefore, I am endeavouring to make slightly better choices today: I'm going on a "diet."

This is me. 
This is what I look like.

I announced this to a few people and everyone has asked, "why?"  You all flatter me.  Remember in my last blog post how I said I want to be able to do pull-ups again?  A lighter me will help with that.  Also, I have clothes I like that I would wear if I could breathe while wearing them.  But mostly, I am convinced that WiiFit is making fun of me.  My on-screen avatar (my Mii) is shaped like a watermelon.  Curse you, Wii!  Who knew that the manufacturers of the WiiFit program can do what doctors could not--elicit change--just by making my cartoon body as wide as my cartoon head.  I want a cartoon head that is twice as big as my body!

How to create a successful diet, though?  I've written before on why diets fail, and came to the short conclusion that the foods we have grown accustomed to eating have programmed our bodies and minds to crave those foods.  Naturally, reprogramming my mind will overcome those cravings and I will be wildly successful.  HA!  If only it were so easy.

With the help of a friend, I found an iPhone app that allows me to track every bite I put into my fat yapper.  It calculates my goals and sets my daily calorie limits.  My limit is 1497 calories per day.  This means that I SHOULD lose 1.5 pounds per week and in 20 weeks (or near my birthday) I should be at my target weight.  (I'll let you do the math.  Yes.  I'm overweight. We wouldn't be having this conversation if I were already at my ideal weight.)  One week down and tracking what I am putting into my body and the calories I expend in exercise, I have gained 1 pound.  Cousin Boinker!!  (I'm also trying to swear less. I'm trying different not-quite-swear combinations that will let me think about what I'm saying and maybe laugh at myself instead of get angry.  It's still meeting with mixed success.)

I won't abandon this goal and program, however.  At least not yet.  I'll stay under my calorie count and will try to keep my activity level up.  I will keep you posted every now and then to let you know my progress.  Anyone who wants to join me can by going to MyFitnessPal.com or loading MyFitnessPal on their app-enabled device.  And, of course I will provide some good recipes to help us along this path.

For dinner tonight, try this low fat, low calorie dinner:

Poached Shrimp With Ginger and Bamboo Shoots
16 large Shrimp (22-26 count), in shell, headless and de-veined
1/2 teaspoon Red Curry Paste
1/4 cup dry White Wine
1/2 cup Water
1 Bay Leaf
8 Allspice Berries
10-12 whole Black Peppercorns
1 small Shallot, minced
1 large clove Garlic, minced
1 tablespoon fresh grated Ginger
pinch of Salt
2 tablespoons Rice Wine Vinegar
1 10oz can of sliced Bamboo Shoots, drained

In a 10" skillet, heat the curry paste, water and wine to a slow boil, stirring until the paste dissolves.  Add in the shrimp, bay leaf, allspice, peppercorns, shallot, garlic ginger and salt.  Stir once and cover.  Reduce the heat to a simmer and cook until the shrimp are pink.  (Flip the shrimp midway through to cook evenly.)

Remove the allspice and peppercorns (as best as you can).

Add the vinegar and bamboo shoots.  Return to a simmer. 
Serves 2; about 120 calories per person.

Honestly, This Isn't a Midlife Crisis

I wrote my "bucket list" when I was 15, but the movie hadn't been made yet, so I called it my "list of things to do before I die."  Some things I wanted at 15, I don't want anymore.  I don't want to be a famous actor in the movies: I really don't like people enough to appreciate all the fans I would have.  I also don't want my own island: No one needs their own island and although I don't like the crush of humanity every day, I would get lonely.  Some things on the list I probably won't ever accomplish because technology and my own motivation won't allow for it.  For example, I probably won't be walking on the moon.  And some of those joys on the list I accomplished quickly, some took a little longer, and some are still going to come true.  I eat fire.  I learned Spanish, French and Chinese languages (although I'm very rusty in speaking any of them now).  I am a chef--at least in my own way. 

I have realized recently, however, that I have many more things in my life to do.  Therefore, I have started a new list:

MY NEW LIST OF SOMEDAY AWESOME ACCOMPLISHMENTS

Travel is on the list.  I want to visit each continent, and except for Antarctica, I want to meet the local folk in the smaller towns.  I want to taste their cuisine and know the regional comfort foods.  (In Antarctica, I want to see the Emperor Penguin from a safe enough distance to not disturb Morgan Freeman.) 

I want to be able to do chin-ups again.  Without assistance.

I'm learning to pick locks.  Since I regularly lock myself out of things with locks, this should be immensely useful to me. 

I've become an ordained minister so I think it would be grand to perform a wedding ceremony.  And maybe a funeral.  Or an exorcism. 

I will have a secret identity and post Urban Exploration adventures under that alias. 

I will accept more dares, but only if there is a greater chance of the dare resulting in fun for me rather than tragedy.  Unless the tragedy also is likely to be fun, then it's Game On!

I will have my own television show.  (Crap.  Now I have to get prepared to have hoards of fans, again.)

If I ever give up being a financial advisor, I will be a butcher.  Or a bounty hunter.  (Picking locks and speaking foreign languages should come in handy.)  (Wait.  I meant, "Probably handier for bounty hunting."  I don't know if animals speak Spanish, French or Chinese.  And since most of them don't have opposable thumbs, I don't think they are negotiating keys too well.)

I want a pencil thin moustache.

I still want to go to outer space.  Richard Branson should be able to help me out. 

And I think I need to be less bashful when it comes to trying new foods.  I really need to get out of my rut.

With that in mind,  here's a fun little recipe.

Poached Baby Octopus for Dessert
1 1/2 cups Port
1/4 cup Sugar
12 Baby Octopus (5" tentacle diameter)
Sugar and Cinnamon mixture (2:1 ratio Sugar to Cinnamon, shaken together in a jar)

If they aren't already, have your local fish monger clean the octopus and remove the beaks.  Rinse them thoroughly.  Heat a large pot of water (6 quarts) to boiling.  Add the octopus and let simmer for 10 minutes.  Drain and put the octopus into an ice water bath to stop them from cooking.  

When the octopus have chilled, rub them gently under running water to remove the outer skins.  Don't worry if you can't get all the skin off--just get most of it. 
In an electric skillet (so much easier to control the temperature), heat the port and sugar until it boils and the sugar dissolves.  Reduce to a simmer and add the octopus.  Cover and simmer on the lowest setting for 2-3 hours, turning them over every now and then to cover all sides evenly.  Yes, they turn slightly rubbery, but that is what octopus is made of: God's old inner tubes.  And yes, the port turns the octopus purple, but that's a natural color for them.  The flavor changes to something wonderful, however.  Magical, even. 

When you are getting close to eating, remove them from the port and let drain.  Place them in a large bowl and sprinkle the octopus with cinnamon and sugar, tossing to coat them evenly.   Serve with fresh sliced strawberries and a scoop of French vanilla ice cream.

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. 

For more photos, please visit my Facebook page.

Tuna Fest, or How to Bring It All Together

It's like Iron Chef. 

My brother, my friend and I got together at my brother's house.  "What should we have to eat?" the conversation began.  "Whatever you want.  You figure out the main ingredient and I'll work with it," was my reply.  My brother brought home 2 1/2 pounds of beautiful Ahi Tuna. 

So how to assemble a dinner only just finding out what the theme ingredient is?  How do the Iron Chefs do it?

I wish I could be as eloquent as Michelangelo when he said, "Carving is easy.  You just go down to the skin and stop," but I'm not.   This is similar to bringing flavors together, however.  Begin with simplicity.  Use quality ingredients.  Add until you have the dish you want to eat.  Then stop cooking.  Easy, right?

For people who can draw, drawing a portrait is easy.  For people who can play a guitar and sing, serenading a beautiful woman is easy.  I haven't acquired those skills.  I have developed my sense of taste, however, and like Michelangelo, the resulting accomplishments look effortless.  (Isn't that awesome?  I AM comparing myself to Michelangelo.  I love being me.)  The good news: anyone with a functional nose and tastebuds can achieve the same results or better. 

As discussed before, the senses of smell and taste inform us of what we like and what tastes good together.  Sweet and spicy, bitter and sweet, sweet and sour, salty and sweet, spicy and sour all work together as compliments.  However, bitter and sour or salty and spicy make a very untasty dish.  Even sweet by itself becomes overpowering. 

So how do you develop your senses and use that in cooking?  First, experience it.  Taste what you are tasting.  Open your mouth slightly and breathe air over it, inhaling through your nose and mouth.  What does it really taste like?  What makes a pear, taste and smell like a pear?  Why isn't it an apple?  The subtle differences make all the difference.

So back to Tuna Night.  We wanted multiple courses. My brother launched the evening off with cocktails and a magnificent Tuna Poke (pronounced PO-kee).  I served a papaya and jalapeno salsa with tortilla chips.  I followed with a simple rice and tuna soup.  Then the main course: a sesame-encrusted and seared tuna on a bed of mixed greens and chimchurri.  For dessert, I made a non-tuna panna cotta with a nice aged port poured over the top. 

Laughter, stories of friends and times since past, good food, good drink.  These are the ingredients of a great evening; And better than any Iron Chef can produce. 

Tuna Poke
1 lb fresh Ahi Tuna
1/2 small Onion (Maui), minced
2 green Scallions, diced
1/2 teaspoon Fresh Ginger, grated
2 cloves Garlic, minced
1/4 cup Soy Sauce
1/2 teaspoon Sesame Oil
1/2 teaspoon Crushed Red Pepper Flakes
1/2 teaspoon Chinese Chili Sauce
1/2 teaspoon Kosher Salt

Cut Ahi into at least 1/2" cubes - set aside & refrigerate.  Combine all other ingredients in a large glass bowl & refrigerate for at least 30 minutes.

When ready to serve toss Ahi and other ingredients together.


Hot and Sour Tuna Soup
2 tablespoons Canola Oil
1 1/2 tablespoons Thai Red Curry Paste (sold by the jar at most supermarkets)
3 cups Vegetable Stock (or 2 cups Vegetable and 1 cup Fish or Chicken Stock)
1 cup Boiling Water (or as needed)
3 tablespoons Soy Sauce
1/4 cup Rice Wine Vinegar
2 tablespoons White Vinegar
1 cup Long Grain White Rice (I used Jasmine, because that's what I had on hand)
1/2 pound Ahi Tuna, cut into 1" or smaller cubes (it's ok to use the trimmings from the other tuna dishes you're making)
1 tablespoon Fish Sauce
Scallion Greens, thinly sliced, for garnish

In a large pot (I used a Chinese clay soup pot, just because it looks so cool!) heat the oil over medium high heat and add the curry paste.  Mash, stir and whisk the paste until loose, runny and dissolving.  Add the stock and continue to whisk until completely dissolved.  Add the soy sauce and vinegars.  Let come to a low boil and add the rice.  Cover and reduce the heat and let simmer on a low setting for about 20-30 minutes. 

When the rice has plumped up, stir in the fish and fish stock.  Add more boiling water if the rice has taken over the broth.  Cover and remove from the heat.  Let stand for at least 10 minutes.  Serve hot, garnishing each bowl with generous pinch of scallions.


Sesame Encrusted Tuna
1 tablespoon Canola Oil
1 pound Ahi Tuna
1/4 cup White Sesame Seeds
2 tablespoon Whole Mustard Seeds
1 tablespoon Black Peppercorns, crushed
1/2 teaspoon Salt


On a plate, combine the sesame seeds, mustard seeds, peppercorns and salt.  Mix and spread out evenly.  Lay the tuna into the seed mixture and press gently, coating one side of the tuna completely.  Flip the tuna over and repeat. 


Heat the 1/2 the oil in a large non-stick skillet until it begins to smoke.  Add the tuna.  Cook for 30-45 seconds.  Using tongs, lift the tuna out of the skillet, add the remaining oil, flip the tuna to cooked side up and sear the other side, about 30-45 seconds.


Remove to a cutting board and slice into 1/2 inch slices.  The tuna should be just starting to grey around the edges and raw in the middle.  Serve on a bed of fresh greens with a dollop of Chimchurri and a small cup of soy sauce on the side. 


Chimchurri
1 cup, packed, Cilantro Leaves
3 large cloves Garlic, chopped
1/2 medium Red Onion
1 Jalapeno, seeds removed, minced
1 tablespoon Crushed Red Pepper Flakes
1/2 teaspoon Salt
1/2 cup Olive Oil
1/4 cup Red Wine Vinegar

In the bowl of a food processor, add the cilantro, garlic onion and jalapeno, red pepper flakes and salt.  Pulse several times and then scrape down the sides.  Repeat.  Turn it on and slowly add the vinegar and oil, until it comes together as a paste or slurry. 

Scrape into a serving dish, cover and refrigerate for at least 1 hour and up to 2 or 3 days before. 

Grills of Summer

Our caveman ancestors had nothing on us.  Oh sure, they created some pretty cool art, they invented tools at an alarming rate, they could defend themselves against oversized beasties, and they started astronomy and agriculture.  Heck, they practically invented "roughing it" while camping out under the stars or seeking refuge in tiny caves, but they didn't have marshmallows.  Nothing compares to finishing a hard day of relaxing in the wilds of Colorado like sitting around the campfire and eating fire-roasted marshmallows off of a stick.

And that got me thinking, "fire cook food good."  (Something about fire makes me speak like a cartoon caveman.  Please bear with me.)  As a continuation of Boys and Grills, I offer another handful of recipes that perfectly celebrate summer evenings, rituals as old as time, good friends and the opportunity to play with matches. 

Corn on the Cob
When buying ripe corn still in the husk, don't be afraid to peel the husks and silk back to look at the kernels.  You want big, fat, juicy kernels that aren't damaged by bugs or mold.  Resist the temptation to completely shuck the corn, though.

When you get the corn home, gently peel the green outer husks and the yellow-white inner husks all the way back (but not off!) exposing the corn silk.  Completely remove the corn silk.  Gently, but firmly recover the corn with the husks, completely covering ALL of the kernels.  Tie the ends of the husks with some butchers twine if they don't want to stay closed.  (If the outer husks are overly dry and brittle, soak the ears in a bucket of cool water for 5 minutes.)

When the coals of your fire (or grill) are hot and ready and no longer throwing flames, lay the ears up against the outside edges of the coals.  Cook for 5 minutes on a side--the outer husks should start to blacken after 3-4 min.  If they blacken too fast, scoot the corn back from the heat an inch or two.  Take your time with this one.  Don't rush.  When they are evenly cooked, remove and lay on a platter to cool for a couple of minutes before peeling.  Serve with whipped, herbed butter.

Potato Pockets
This has nearly the same dry heat/steaming cooking technique as the corn on the cob, but we use tinfoil instead of corn husks. 

1 large Russet Potato per person
1 large Onion
2 tablespoons fresh Rosemary
3 tablespoons Butter
Salt & Pepper (Lowry's Seasoned Salt is pretty darn good, too)

Wash potatoes, and slice into 1/4 inch rounds.  (You can use whatever potato you like, but I like the starchiness of the Russets.)  Slice the onions into 1/2 rings.

Lay out a long sheet of heavy duty aluminum foil (if you're British you just said that weird. Ha Ha!) and grease it down by rubbing a teaspoon of butter all over it.  (Start in the middle and work outward, stopping an inch or so from the edges.)  Layer the potatoes and onion and seasonings over the foil.  This should make about 2 layers.  Grease up another sheet of aluminum foil.  Add the remaining butter over the potatoes and onions. Cover with the foil and crimp the edges well shut.

I like to double wrap the foil, so I usually repeat the pocketing without greasing this layer.  This helps insulate against burning and tearing.

Throw the pocket into the hot coals.  Cook for 15 minutes, then flip over and cook for another 5. Serve hot!

Wisconsin Bratwurst
There is WAY too much misinformation and just plain bad cooking out there when it comes to Brats.  This is easy and delicious. 

[Johnsonville] Original Bratwurst (Johnsonville is the original American Bratwurst, but other companies make a good brat.  But so help me, God, if I hear that you're using the cheese filled, or spicy, or some other abomination of brats, I will personally come over and take away your Good Taste card.  Stop it.  Do it right or don't do it at all.)
2 tablespoons Butter for the pan, plus more for the buns
1 large Onion, sliced into 1/2 rings
1 can of Cheap Beer (break out the PBR!)
Kaiser Rolls (yes the round ones.  It's weird, but it's right--I'll explain later)
Sauerkraut (optional)

While the coals of the grill are heating up, soak the brats in an icewater bath. This tightens the skins.

Sautee the onions in the butter in a medium sized sauce pan until they are translucent.  Pour in the beer.  Bring to a simmer, but DO NOT boil.

When the coals are ashed over, lay the brats on the hottest part of the grill, 1/2 inch apart.  Cook for 5 min, or until they start to char.  WHEN you have a flare up--and you will, move the brat off the flames and close the lid.  DO NOT stab at your brats with a fork, but rather move them with your BBQ tongs. Rotate and flip them over.  Get them slightly blackened on all sides.  When they are well cooked, lay them in the beer and onion bath.  Keep them on the stove until the buns are ready.

Slice open and butter the inside of your kaiser rolls. Kaisers are best because they have a good crusty outside and round shape that is much larger than the brat it's going to hold. It can stand up to all the juicy goodness and sloppiness that's about to take place without spilling it's contents all over your lap and disintegrating into goo.  Place the rolls, butter-side down on the grill and toast until they get golden brown in the middle and darkened at the edges.  Assemble your brats with one--or if you're daring, two--brats in a bun, mustard and/or ketchup, sauerkraut, and onions.That's it.

Some common bratwurst mistakes: 
1) Soaking the brats in beer first.  This does nothing but waste a cheap beer.  It adds nothing to the flavor (it burns off) and can make an already smokey grill a flaming grill.  Not helpful.

2) Over garnish.  Brats are a joy to themselves: simple, harmonious.  Don't add things like mayo or pickle relish.  Have a side of potato salad and a pickle if you need these things.

3) Ignor the warm bath afterwards.  Brats and beer are meant for each other.  The warm beer, butter and onions infuses the sausage with extra deliciousness.  But if you must sin, this is one you may pass on.

Grill-smoked Crab Legs

These are awesome and simple. 

1 lb Snow Crab Legs, per person (here in Colorado, usually sold pre-cooked and then frozen)

Build a two-layer fire in your grill.  When the coals have ashed over, add a layer of cherrywood branches or chips on top of the coals.  Stack the crab legs on the cool part of the grill and close the lid.  The smoke will be pouring out of the grill so sit up wind.

Let these continue to cook until the smoke has nearly subsided, about 30-45 minutes.

Serve with melted butter and or lemon if you want to.  But we mostly ate them plain!

For dessert, go ahead: grill some marshmallows on a stick. 

Boys and Grills

This is Father's Day weekend.  I hope you all called your Dads and and expressed your hearts' true feelings. 

And I know as I write that, not everyone has had such an idyllic life as I have.  I can say such compassionate things only because my Dad and I are close--friends, even.  But regardless of your relationship with your Dad, there is someone out there close to you who represents your ideal of fatherhood.  Go with that for the rest of the day and tell those people what they mean to you.

This is my blog and my Dad, however, so allow me to regale you with my experiences and impressions of my mind.  Whereas my Mom is regarded by the greatness (quantity and quality) of her food in the kitchen, my Dad is known for his grill work.  Like the cliched greeting cards you will find at the supermarket, he has prepared the meat of nearly every kind of animal--fish or fowl, beef, buffalo or game.  Steaks, fillets, roasts, whole, spit, or racked.  Even oysters in the shell (see below). 

So I was thinking, as an homage to my Dad, a man I love and admire, how can I pass on his grilling acumen?  Here's some of what I have picked up over the years:

1) Know your fire.  Every grill has hot and cold spots.  Use these.  My Dad switched years ago to a gas grill, built into the back patio.  I use charcoal.  Dad's grill has spots that stay 10-20 degrees cooler than other parts; I have to stack coals to one side or another to create a cold zone.  The hot parts of the grill are good for searing meat but bad for sustained cooking.  The cooler parts will be good to slowly raise the temperature of the food. 

2) Take the food's temperature.  Undercooked is generally better for flavor and texture than overcooked.  The best way is an instant-read thermometer on a long probe.  (Although my Dad would always operate by instinct, then cut into the center of the steak seconds before declaring it done.)  Remember, most foods will continue to cook for 5-10 minutes after removing it from heat. 

3) Know when to poke your meat.  The best time to put holes into your meat (if you must) is BEFORE it goes on the grill, and is usually only to let in certain flavors.  For example, little slices of garlic and sprigs of rosemary stuffed into tiny holes all around a leg of lamb offers a deep infusion of flavor.  For thick steaks, you may use a fork to poke holes before adding a marinade. 

4) Leave your meat alone.  Give it time to rest.  Most meat benefits by sitting on a slightly heated plate and covered with tinfoil for 10 minutes after taking it off of the grill.  This allows the juices to return to the muscle structure.  Cut into the meat when the temperature is too high, the juices have too much kinetic energy to be bound by the heated cell walls of the meat.  (Yes, I'm using physics and biology!  Isn't science cool?)

5) Know your marinades, rubs and sauces.  Marinades add flavor and if they use salt, sugar or oil, also aid in the browning of the grilled offering.  Rubs provide a good surface flavoring, and can caramelize on the surface adding a crispiness (especially good for some fish!)  Sauces are served afterward and compliment cooked food.  One can make a sauce from the marinade but reserve the liquid before touching it to raw meat.  This avoids cross-contamination.

6) Apologize for it being under/over done before anyone has any on their plates.  Set the audience's expectations low and dazzle them anyway.  Under promise and over deliver. 

To Dads everywhere: Thank you for all the wisdom you have imparted.  Thank you for (trying to) teach us the little lessons that we should know before life kicks sand in our face.  Thank you for inspiring us to reach higher, think better and do gooder (yes, I like saying that) than we would ever have imagined for ourselves.  We love you. 

Tonight for dinner, try:

Grilled Oysters
2-3 live Oysters per person (I prefer large Pacific species)
Hot Sauce
Lemon wedges

Line the oysters (live, in the shell) on a hot grill.  Watch them closely.  After about 2 minutes, the shells will open.  Remove from the heat, being careful not to spill the liquid from the shells. 

Let the guests open their own oysters (fingers are fine--no need for an oyster shucking knife.)  Add a dash of hot sauce and a squirt of lemon, then shoot the oyster, liquid and all.  This is the most flavorful way of eating these guys!

Sugar Steak
1 12 oz Ribeye Steak per person (1 1/2 inch cut)
Soy Sauce
ground Black Pepper
1/2 cup packed Brown Sugar
1/2 teaspoon Kosher Salt
1 tablespoon Red Chili Powder
1/4 teaspoon Cumin Powder


Lay the steaks out flat.  Sprinkle on enough soy sauce to coat each side of all of the steaks.  Add a light dusting of black pepper (to taste).  Cover and let them come to room temperature.


In a bowl, mix the sugar, salt, chili and cumin powder.


Make a two tiered fire in your grill, or for gas, get one side very hot and the other warm.  When the grill is hot, pack the sugar rub evenly onto each side of the steak.  Place on the hot part of the grill, at least 1 inch between steaks and leave the lid up.  Leave it alone for 3 minutes and then flip over.  Cook that side for 2 minutes more, then move to the cooler part of the grill.  Cover the grill and let cook until rare or medium rare (120-125 degrees.  Remember the steak will continue to cook for 5 minutes when you take it off the heat.)

Remove from the grill and cover for 10 minutes. 

Grilled Asparagus with Balsamic Vinegar Reduction
1 bunch of Asparagus
Olive Oil
Salt and Pepper
1/2 cup Balsamic Vinegar (the good stuff--aged)
2 tablespoons Sugar

Cut the white, woody ends off the asparagus spears and discard.  Rinse them well and lay out on a paper towel.  Pat them dry. 

In a saucepan, heat the vinegar until until simmering.  Continue to simmer and add the sugar, stirring until dissolved.  Continue to heat slowly, stirring occasionally until the volume has been reduced by 1/2. 

Place asparagus in a bowl or baking dish.  Drizzle with olive oil and sprinkle with salt.  Toss to cover each spear and place the spears directly on the hot part of the grill.  Cook for about 2-3 minutes.  Turn them over.  Some charring will occur, but you don't want them too blackened.  Cook for another minute of two then return to the baking dish. 

Sprinkle with pepper, to taste and drizzle with the vinegar deduction. 

Paradise by the Kitchen-Stove Light

First, I have to apologize to all of my sensitive readers.  Today's topic is very adult.  I should probably apologize to all of my other readers, too, because it's probably not very well written. But if you're still reading, I will try to make up for it.  I promise. 

Many foodies have written about aphrodisiacs and they all talk about the same things: what are the various aphrodisiacs, whether aphrodisiacs really work and sometimes (rarely), how to prepare aphrodisiacs. I may bump into a couple of these topics, but it'll probably be more on accident.  Today, I want to bring sexy back to food.  Think of me as Emeril Lagasse's and Dr. Ruth Westheimer's brain child.  Or love child: noisy and a little uncomfortable to watch.

Lets get it out there: the biggest sex organ is the brain.  Boys and girls, if you can't stimulate this, you're not going to have much hope with second or third bases, let alone a home run.  (Mixing metaphors here.  Let's see how it goes.)  Women admittedly have it easier than men.  (Good example: H and I were driving home last night and drove by a topless sports bar.  The natural conversation ensued:

H: What's so great about boobs?  If you had the same sports bar without boobs, would it be as good?
Me: Boobs make it better. 
H: Why? 
Me: Because boobs make it better.  If I had Buffalo wings and could see boobs, or I could have Buffalo wings and not have boobs flouncing by, I would definitely choose with boobs.
H: Do you ever get over saturated with seeing boobs?  
Me: Sometimes, but then I'd still have the sports to keep me entertained.
H: I think if I had a shopping mall with penis or a mall without, I'd be indifferent, at best. In fact, I'd probably choose the one without.
Me: That's because boobs aren't the same as penis. They aren't even on the same continuum.  What else do you enjoy looking at? 
H: Shoes.  But I want to buy the shoes and take them home.  Is that how you feel about the boobs?
Me: Not exactly.
H: Diamonds then.
Me:  Maybe.  Closer. 
H: It'd be like me shopping at Cartier. 
Me: Yes.  Exactly like that. 
H: But I want to bring Cartier home with me, too.
Me: Then it's almost nothing like Cartier.  *pause, thinking* They are more like the Hope Diamond. 
H: How so?
Me: The boobs are very pretty to look at, but you can't touch.  And frankly, I wouldn't want all the drama that comes with fancy boobs or the Hope Diamond.  But I'm still happy that both are there. 
H: So I'm more like your Cartier and not the Hope Diamond. 
Me: Right.
H: I can live with that.

So, anyway where was I?  Oh yeah.  Food blog.  Aphrodisiacs.  Baseball.)  Women can appeal to a man's visual cortex and she'll often have her way.  Men need to get more creative.  Romance, wooing, a little more effort applied.  I think this is where aphrodisiacs come into play.  Chocolate covered strawberries, for instance, demonstrate a bit more effort than going out to Olive Garden.  One shows intimacy, specialness and consideration for your loved one.  The other says, "I don't want you to do the dishes, but I don't want to do them, either." 

So what foods are aphrodisiacs, then?  How about almost anything that is intended to be an aphrodisiac.  Phallic-looking asparagus?  Sure.  Sliced fruit?  You bet!  A ham sandwich?  Um, not if she's Kosher, but get ready, if you are charming Mama Cass.  Gravitate to food that sweetens your breath, that doesn't get stuck in your teeth, that can be eaten with your fingers and even better, fed to your paramour.  Unusual, out of the ordinary.  Think about the 9 1/2 Weeks refrigerator scene. Was it hot because Micky Rourke and Kim Bassinger were in various states of undress?  Or was it hot because it was outrageous and devil-may-care?  (OK, maybe a little of both.)

For the basics on aphrodisiacs, check out Gourmet Sleuth.  Lots of history and a few recipes. 

And for a light erotic dinner:

The TLC
Sparkling wine (chilled)
Rum (dark or spiced is good)
Cointreau
Passion Fruit Nectar (chilled)


In a pitcher or shaker, combine 1 part rum, 1 part Cointreau, 3 parts wine and 2 parts passion fruit nectar.  Stir twice to mix. 


Serve in a champagne flute garnished with a strawberry.  (First Base, here we come!)


Crab and Avocado Salad
1  large ripe Avocado
1 cup Lump Crab meat, cooked and cooled
1/2 cup diced Celery
Salt and Pepper
1 teaspoon fresh Taragon
2 tablespoons Olive Oil (use the good stuff here)
1 tablespoon Red Wine Vinegar
2 wedges of Lemon

In a glass bowl, mix the crab, celery, salt and pepper (to taste), tarragon, olive oil and vinegar.  Mix well, by hand.  Let stand, covered in the refigerator for an hour, stirring occasionally.

When ready to serve, slice the avocado in half length-wise and remove the pit (leave the skins on, however).  With a spoon, carve about a 1/4 inch more from around the pit hole, making more of a bowl.  Spoon in the crab salad, and serve with a wedge of lemon. 


Fresh Fruit Ideas
Mango
Berries of every kind
slices of Pear or Apple
slices of Peaches
Orange wedges
Champagne Grapes
Cherries

Think about dipping sauces, too.  Caramel, honey, whipped cream, clotted cream and chocolate are all extra tantalizing.


Use that big sexy brain of yours.  I bet you can come up with some great ideas of your own.  Swing for the fences and before you know it, you'll be rounding third and sliding into home.  (Nailed that metaphor!  Woohoo!)