Quips of a Rambling Chef

Pan de Mallorca

2012-02-01T02:01:00.000-08:00

Not one to sit in front of Andrew Zimmern’s Bizarre Foods on the Tele, I was entranced recently when my daughter haphazardly paused on an episode of him in Puerto Rico, the latter yet another destination on my bucket list.

We did not remain on the channel to watch Zimmern enjoy snouts, ears and tails. Nor did we watch the eighty year old grandmother make the boudin noir (a charcute that I have had several times but only once that was not only not disgusting but rather amazing. Not surprisingly, it was at a Keller restaurant.)

I agree that the show as a whole can be important for a nation like ours; we eat conservatively and when we do eat, most meat products come from sterile cabinets and are miles if not states away from the nearest kill floor. In the words of Emerson, “You have just dined, and however scrupulously the slaughterhouse is concealed in the graceful distance of miles, there is complicity”.

I know where meat comes from. I have hunted and I have fished. I have been to the bullfights. I have visited processing plants and I have participated in livestock slaughter. And I cannot say that I have ever enjoyed any of it.

As a result, I just don’t enjoy the watching a show that focuses on a man who travels the world eating strange, morose and on occasion downright morbid foods. So be it for me to challenge the show, as it is successful and Zimmern himself is a fascinating host; it’s just not my speed.

So as we sat and watched the introduction to his episode in Puerto Rico, I was shocked to learn that the first segment was not bizarre in the least. It was enjoyable and quickly inspired me to try my hand at the bread on which his eyes were fixed.

After meeting his guide for the week, Zimmern was taken to an eatery known for its pastries and breakfast foods, a hot spot for more than a few years where the locals would sit over a plate of freshly made food and steaming hot coffee.

I watched a hundred-plus year old restaurant pump out Pan de Mallorca for hundreds of patrons as it does every morning. I could tell by watching the episode that the dough was similar to the rich dinner roll recipe I use myself, but with a fair amount of sugar added to sweeten the pot.

Used as a simple accompaniment to morning coffee or served as an 'al fresco Monte Cristo' as my wife called it, Pan de Mallorca is phenomenal!

As you can see, it is a very loose dough, so have your flour ready!

After rolling and proofing, the Pan is drenched in more butter!

Finished with a dusting of confectioner's sugar, you can then eat as-is or make it ham 'n cheese!

2012-01-28T03:41:00.000-08:00

Tonight is a good night to sit down to a steaming bowl of homemade chicken soup. Our anomolous weather patterns are torturing us with 18 degree mornings followed by rain and wind at night. It makes no sense.

Officially at the mid-point of January we have yet to see snow, much to my chagrin but not to that of many others, so I’ll leave it right there.

Suffice it to say that, as a teacher and a parent, I love snow days for my kids’ sakes. Who doesn’t love to see the joy on their faces when the phone rings at 5:30 in the morning? They will sleep in on any other morning, but that phone call has the kids out of their beds and as active as bees in a shaken hive. They are ready for action.

But no, there is no chance of that happening any time soon, so the upswings and downturns in the mercury will leave us wondering what is in store next week and the one after.

But one thing is certain; chilly or downright cold, soup is a welcome friend as it soothes us to our very core. And the way that I made it today it could not have been any easier, short of opening a can and throwing it in the microwave.

I rarely write about the slow-cooker pots, since in many ways I am opposed to them. While I try to adhere to the concept of slow cooking and fresh foods, it is evident that many cooking techniques are missing from throwing product in the slow cooker and leaving for work.

Where’s the sear? Where is the love? Where are the layers of flavor that marry at the end to give us this magical dish?

I can tell you where they were today; they were in the felled tree that my son and I were chopping into firewood while the Misses and a daughter removed the carpeting, padding and staples from the stairs.

In between the wood chopping and removing of Christmas decorations (yes, I made it to January 15, a personal record) I finished getting a certification needed for a class that I teach. It’s all in a day’s work. Suffice it to say that we had a busy, busy weekend and slow-pot soup won the coin toss.

Finishing the soup off with the simplest of garnishes, a sweet and savory roasted butternut squash, I was pleased realizing that bliss filled the room; even the children ate the soup. It was a good meal.

There are some merits to one-pot cooking; fuel efficiency, reduction of carbon footprint, maximum flavor and moisture retention and of course ease.

So while you do forfeit the added flavor of the sear on the meat and the various tricks of which I have written over the course of the last seven years, you will not be disappointed, especially when your joints and bones ache from the work and cold.

Enjoy the rain and the wind and with any luck, we will see that snow storm come across the plains and throw us for a loop. Then we’ll have another reason to break out the slow cooker again, only next time it won’t be so dusty.

2012-01-03T16:36:00.000-08:00

The New Year is here and apparently this year marks the last year of the earth’s existence according to the Mayan Calendar. That sure puts a damper on things.

All I can say is that, with the impending apocalypse a mere four days before Christmas, we are sure to save an awful lot of money on gifts, so at least we’ll have a financial head start on next January if it does in fact not occur as predicted.

For now, though, I am grateful to see another year pass us by. So far the dooms-dayers have been wrong, thousands of times the years over, and I am assuming that the writers of the Mayan calendar simply ran out of room on their tablet so I am not too terribly concerned about it.

As I am fairly confident that we will live to see another New Year’s Day, I giggle when I think about running into the frigid ocean again as I did with my children at the AGH Penguin Swim on the 1^st.

I am a proud man, as our three kids who were home were fiercely excited about the swim, although I think ‘swim’ is an ambitious word. It was more like a dunk, but sufficient to prove our point as the water temperature was 45°.

Luckily it was a balmy 60° on the beach, albeit with a brisk wind, so coming out of the ocean was an absolute treat.

I was so impressed with my children’s fortitude, along with the courage of the many other swimmers, young and old, that I could hardly contain myself. We have lived in the area for twelve years and had yet, prior to Sunday, to participate in the swim.

As I had written in November after the Tough Mudder in New Jersey, food became important to me as my body was instantly invigorated by the dunk in the icy water.

I was not thinking of healthy salads, lame New Year’s resolutions or false pretenses of living my life in a different manner because the calendar year has changed.

No, I was fantasizing about pizza, steak and soup; rich and creamy soup. Lobster Bisque to be exact.

This is one of my favorite soups to make for two reasons. Firstly, it is one of the most flavorful and decadent soups contrived. Secondly, it is a great way to utilize an exorbitantly costly protein. I have been in the food business for a very long time, and I still cannot get used to lobster prices.

Finishing this soup with a crouton topped with melted St. Andre Triple Cream and roasted tomatoes is a match made in heaven.

And it is not healthy. It will not help you to achieve those pesky resolutions. It is not on any fitness plan. It is just plain good; it will stick to your ribs, and that’s what we need now that winter is finally here.

Besides, if the Mayans are right, we could eat this all year and it wouldn’t really matter, would it?

HAPPY NEW YEAR ONE AND ALL!

May The New Year Bless You with Pork & Kraut!

2011-12-27T07:54:00.000-08:00

Edible (adj). Good to eat and wholesome to digest, as a worm to a toad, a toad to a snake, a snake to a pig, a pig to a man, and a man to a worm. Ambrose Bierce

As we celebrate the New Year, new friends, new enemies and newer members of the family, I find that it is also the time of year to never forget those who have gone before us.

None are safe from the one certainty of life, as so eloquently phrased by Franklin so long ago. We can only hope that our time comes when we have had a chance to change something for the better; to fix something we may have broken or to lend a hand to someone in need.

As the 31^st of December comes and goes a deep reflection passes through my mind; the leaves are long gone, the earth is slowly cooling to its normal threshold of temperature, and there are mosquitoes in our back yard. Not normal seems to be the new normal.

Is it global warming or is it the natural cycle of our great earth? Is it mankind’s contribution to the ozone, or is it merely time again for the polar cap to melt? Fairly convinced that smog and pollution were not responsible for the first ice age, I wonder what the new year will bring in condemnations and tips on how to live our lives so as to keep the melting at bay.

Either way, New Year’s Eve will come and go, and will stop for no one person in particular. As we prepare for the festivities, we also are reminded that while there are few things in life we can control, there is at least one self-inflicted wound that we can all avoid. If for some personal reason we find that it is unavoidable, we will at least have the power to nurse and nurture ourselves from the beast; the hangover.

As revelries go, New Year’s Eve tops the list, with amateur and professional alike vying for the leader’s spot on the scoreboard of fun lovers. But as many of us know, the day after seems to be a bit tough.

Not to fear, if you are a Bloody Mary lover and a carnivore. While I won’t address the former in today’s column, I am happy to tell you of a tradition, with a twist, that knocks out the greatest of hangovers with the ease of an acrobat at le cirque.

Roasted pork loin with sauerkraut and mashed potatoes is the shell for this New Years Nosh. Add a roasted vegetable ragout (with fennel which is great with its high levels of phytonutrients in defending our body against certain side effects of too much celebration) and fresh herbs.

Seasoned ever so gingerly to meet our own demands and tastes, we are left with a dish which will elevate us to new heights of vigor on a day on which we would rather crawl back into our couches.

Hangover or no, enjoy this festive tradition, making it your own to suit your tastes. Just don’t let it get past you. After all, it is our job to feed to worms well.

Pop Punk, Geno's & an Oyster Po Boy

2011-12-20T03:44:00.000-08:00

One thing leads to another, as was the case this past weekend upon returning home from a short trip to Philadelphia. I can declare with hand on heart that the city of brotherly love grows on me with every successive visit.

After taking our oldest son to a club concert to see Wheatus (5 other bands were there but we were there to see Wheatus on Mom's request, and since they don't play in the US but a few times a year, I had to make it happen), we found a late night showing of the new Sherlock Holmes.

Having thoroughly enjoyed the first movie, it seemed fitting that we would seek out the sequel on its opening night, and even more entertaining when considering that it would top off our already action-packed night.

When I was younger, the Sherlock Holmes that I read was apparently a watered-down version; the stoic and knightly gentleman with the double-brimmed cap. He was stolid, boring and proper.

When I watched Sherlock Holmes last year with our oldest son, I was embarrassed, myself upset that they portrayed this great man as a drug addict (or at least experimenter) wild man, insomniac, maniacal genius, and authority on perverse crime and the bizarre.

My son’s response was a simple “Dad, that’s the way he was in the books.”

I learned that Sir Arthur Conan Doyle had in fact penned his character in the aforementioned fashion, and I now wonder if Doyle himself could have done a better job on the screenplay.

Holmes is now public domain, so you can download the originals on your Kindle and read away. After reading 1,500 pages of Holmes, it all came together. The movie was spot on.

So, with this relish for the precursor in mind, the sequel fit into our itinerary beautifully and we stayed awake and entertained well-past midnight.

As we left the theater, two things struck us; it was cold, and we were hungry. Not being able to do much about the former, the latter was easily quelled as we were favorably situated in South Philly.

It wasn’t long before we were upon the Holy Grail of late-night neon-emblazoned fare: The caddy-corner red zone known as Pat’s and Geno’s.

Opting for Geno’s we ordered our subs, of course with Cheese Whiz (it’s the Philly way), cheese fries and cokes and supped as we made our way back to the hotel.

We slept like babes. As we awoke on Logan Square the sun showed us what we hadn’t seen the night before; the dome of the Basilica, Franklin Institute, and in the distance, the Art Museum.

Making our way back to the shore, my mind reeled on the subs. Not wanting another steak sub, though, I decided to see what Danny had in the case at Chesapeake Farms to see if I could garner some inspiration.

It didn’t take too long to realize that the pints of local oysters were exactly what I was looking for. I hadn’t made a po boy in a very long time, and as the making of one is a short process, I was sold.

Buying some ice cream (chocolate insanity and pumpkin cheesecake together married well) to take on a visit to a local nursing home, we moved onto that neck of our journey. An hour later, we were home and I was making my po boy.

This sub of all subs is uber-rich and goes a long way to fill the soul. If you are lucky enough to find a good chewy sub roll, then all the better. That, however, can be the hardest part of making this monstrous work, so you’ll have to search around on your own.

As I sit down with the rest of the ice cream (I have some strawberry and blackberry together) from Chesapeake Farms, I realize that I need to run tomorrow, and I really need to find an excuse to go back to Philadelphia. This is a vicious circle in which I can comfortably live.

2011-12-13T03:25:00.000-08:00

It was with great suspicion and disquietude that the Salvadoran women agreed to allow me to help them make tamales for Bellehaven’s employee party.

I didn't think it prudent or appropriate to ask whether this was a tradition bestowed among the traditional housewife, but only assumed it as the women kept laughing at either my ineptitude or presence in general; I preferred to think that the matter lay on the latter.

“No, Paul!” said Sylvia in her thick accent, “Foil too small!” she scolded as my aluminum foil wraps were apparently too thin. Karla laughed in agreement.

Now situated with the correct width, Sylvia again chided me; “No, Paul! Foil too big.” More laughter

Finally, she showed me a strip of foil, the size of my first attempts and said “perfecto!” And so I began to cut and lay out the foil.

Also on my to-do list was cutting the banana leaves which would lay in the foil, in which the maseca mixture and fillings would go before being tightly wrapped and secured by the foil.

Having worked with banana leaves plenty of times in the past, I was not too worried; until I saw Sylvia’s leer. She said nothing, but I waited for it; I felt like a wounded gazelle avoiding the stare of the leopard as it slinks its way up for the pounce.

But it never came. Apparently my unwavering skill at cutting squares of banana leaf wrappers was sufficient.

As a chef and teacher I always look for those teachable moments, and this was no exception. When someone is performing a culinary task with which I am not familiar, I am nigh ecstatic to jump in and learn whatever I can. It’s all for the cause, I constantly remind myself.

Attending the employee party was not an option as I have to be on this side of ‘The Crick’ for other obligations, i.e. my real job and our local chefs’ dinner. Yet, as much as I missed the gang in Alexandria, I was thrilled to know that Sylvia packed me two containers of these amazing tamales; honestly the best I have ever eaten.

These take time; just get ready for that. In the tradition as it was shown to me on Sunday, the chicken is left on the bone, and the tamales are carefully picked apart when served. Just as they do with stock, the bones lend their flavors and gelatin to the mix, affording a fuller, richer flavor than I have as of yet experienced in this standard fare.

In the recipe below, I say to pick the bones and just use the meat. The choice is completely yours. Either way, my eyes were opened as to what tamale could taste like.

I've had good ones, but never great ones before Sunday. And now my taste has transformed further into knowledge as I file away how to make a great Salvadoran Tamale. Keep laughing, my Salvadoran friends; keep laughing.

2011-12-07T03:46:00.000-08:00

I ate molten chocolate cake with homemade berry marshmallows for dinner. The kids ate leftover pizza. I’m not sure what my wife ate.

After a long weekend at the Country Club, it was a day of taking kids to the doctor and dentist, and what better way to end a visit to the dentist than with a big, bubbly pile of chocolate?

After ‘dinner’ it was off to my trusty laptop on the back deck to write this masterpiece while mom and a couple of the kids tortured the others by locking them out of the bedroom in order to wrap Christmas presents.

With so much evidence on and in the house, it is becoming increasingly harder to avoid the fact that Christmas is but around the corner. It is annually amazing to me to realize that, while my wife is typically done shopping for the holiday in June, I start right about now. I assure myself that, as it is in cooking, consistency is the most important part of any relationship.

As I sit out here on the deck, something else strikes me. We are well into the first week of December, it is after 8:00, and I am sitting on my back deck, comfortably, in shorts and a tee-shirt.

But normal weather or not, let’s get back to the chocolate cake. I can take no credit for the recipe as it was passed on to me by good friend Chef Tim Elliot, Executive Sous at Bellehaven.

Incredibly simple to make, this is a no-brainer. When he offers it up with an Asian flare, he flavors the chocolate with cardamom and serves it with candied chilies.

As for the other recipe you will see this week, the one for marshmallows, I well-noted its source; Khymos.org.

Khymos is a fantastic site that offers instruction and education in all manners of food and wine, and they have a fairly solid collection of recipes related to molecular gastronomy; the fancy term for cooking with weird things.

By weird I might mean agar-agar (derived from seaweed) or lecithin (found in egg yolks), or perhaps guar gum, maltodextrin, gellan or carrageenan.

But also included in this collection of the sideshow-substances are cornstarch and gelatin. Being hydrocolloids (substances that gel when hydrated properly), they come in handy when you are trying to attempt the new and super cool.

The easiest way to call yourself a ‘molecular cook’ or some other similarly dorky moniker is to just make marshmallows.

From there, you may start with any other chemicals, easily found online from such sources as “Molecule-r.com”.

Soon, you will be the Tesla of taste; the Einstein of edibles.

Not one for overdoing the scientifically weird, I just roll through the day still feeling that I need to get my head wrapped around this whole cooking thing without the chemistry set. What’s next? Only time will tell.

Either way, I have molten chocolate in my stomach pleasantly satiating my soul, so I don’t care what’s next in the culinary world. Maybe in a year or two you can eat this page and taste what I cooked. It could be that weird.

Vintage Wine Racks and Hurricanes

2011-11-12T03:28:00.000-08:00

We drove home from West Virginia after Hurrican Irene had romped up the Right Coast; it was easy to put the storm into perspective for the kids once we reached the Eastern Shore.

As the sky opened up, one could see the bottom of the hurricane from East to West, with that beautiful and impressive curve visible to the naked eye. The kids at that point understood the gravity of the storm that we had fled.

We evacuated as we are only half a block from the Bay, and as things were, we figured better safe than sorry.

The trip can be summed up thusly; Two adults, four kids, three cats and a dog in a minivan for the five hours it took us to get to Martinsburg, West Virginia and likewise in reverse, to get back home.

Never a family to shy away from an opportunity, and realizing that we were tied down with pets, we took the time to visit Antietam Battlefield. As children go, mine are normal in their ‘come on Dad, there aren’t any rides, gizmos or loud music’ attitudes, typically.

This time, however, they fully appreciated the battlefield, and as we drove through the maze of cornfields and pastures, they understood the gravity of what took place that fateful day. Although I am a shade embarrassed to say that this did not keep them from rolling down the hill.

And as soon as it started, it seemed to have ended. Our area was incredibly fortunate to not sustain the flooding and damages as did the northern states, and after the humorous reports from our friends brave enough to stay, it was time to return.

We took the storm quite seriously, and moved our valuables to the 2^nd floor, carrying our essential paperwork with us. When we walked back into the house, it dawned on us that it was much nicer the less cluttered it was. So we are now moving back in slowly, de-cluttering as we go, and the situation forced me to clean the yard, a task I regularly put off.

My lovely bride moved an antique milk crate from the Supplee Dairy in Supplee, PA off of the floor and noted that she wanted it off of the floor for good. With a few screws, a touch of thinking, a level and a drill, it became our new wine rack in the dining room. Nostalgia never tasted better.

For me, the best thing to happen was that my son found my wedding ring, missing for weeks. It was in the middle of the living room floor, so when we were moving things around in preparation, it apparently jostled loose and is once again on my finger where it belongs.

Vintage wine rack, clean yard, found wedding ring, history field trip, crappy food, broken sump pump (that’s a different story) and all heads present and accounted for. I think it’s easy to see that we found many silver linings in Irene’s clouds.

Peanut Shells, Steamed Shrimp

2011-08-28T06:49:00.000-07:00

There were peanut shells on the floor as we walked in. Everywhere we went in Baltimore in the 90s; well in public houses to be more precise, there were peanuts strewn across the creaky wood, some I’m sure falling into the cracks of the trap doors behind the bars. We were told that they were there to soak up the spilled beer as the night wore on and we bought that.

It became the norm if you were a Balti-morean (supplant –moron if you are in fact a Pittsburgh fan) and it was comforting as you made your rounds throughout town. East, west, north or south…it didn’t seem to matter. The peanut shells crunched under your shoes or sandals and they stood for something; the more shells, the better the establishment.

As is the case in every town, some places were good at food and drink, and others should just stick to one or the other. Try as we might to discern the obvious, there were always variances. However, when it came to the stalwart pubs, you always knew what you were going to get.

Kipling’s was an all-time favorite, and I was served a dish so simple yet revealing in the spring of 1992 that I could barely contain myself, as is obvious by the fact that I am writing about it nineteen years later: Steamed shrimp and red onion. As simple as it was, a platter full of steamed shrimp paled in comparison to one that was also served with some of the glorious bulbs thrown in the mix.

My revelation was later eclipsed by a trip to Northern California some years later where a restaurant served shrimp and clams, basted in beer, with a super-spicy Chorizo sausage. Could it get any easier?

Presently as I go through my repertoire trying to figure out what I want to cook, what I want to write about and what I care to remember, it brings a smile to my face when I think about the simplicity of this dish. Not only does it bring back great memories, but it also serves as a valuable teaching tool for the simplicity of good taste.

Three major ingredients with a splash of beer make for one serious late-night dish. It’s hard to ask for more than that.

Since we do happen to live on Delmarva, however, I will spare you the challenge of finding a good Chorizo. Hot Italian sausage will do just fine, as I proved this evening in my mission to entertain.

As you go through the recipe, bear in mind one very serious caveat. Where I have ‘cleaned’ shrimp listed in the recipe, there is a certain way to do this, but please be careful. If, and I mean only If, you have good control of knives, use a serrated knife to clean your shrimp with the shell still on. The added flavor is worth the effort but you must be careful.

And as you make this, save the shrimp boil safely and reuse. It will fortify similar to a remouillage (don’t remember? Shame on you) and age gracefully if carefully handled.

So, shrimp cooked, sausage grilled and onions cooked to perfection, you can only imagine the joy with which you will dive into this dish. And if you really want the full effect, have your kids (or grandkids) shell a bunch of peanuts and throw them on the floor. It doesn’t get any better than that…even if you are one of those Pittsburgh fans.

“Balti-Frisco” Style Shrimp

serves 8-ish

3# 16/20 shrimp, ‘cleaned’

Shrimp Boil (Recipe follows)

2 ea. Red Onion, peeled and quartered

4 ea. Hot Italian Sausage or Chorizo

1 ea. Heineken or other Pilsner

Old Bay Seasoning to taste

Grill the sausages. When they are done (and they are fairly bomb-proof) just keep them warm until service
Bring the Shrimp Boil to a rolling boil (hence the moniker) and throw the shrimp and onions in. *Perhaps you may not want to ‘throw’ but rather gently place the ingredients in the boil. No harm is done when caution is at a premium
Immediately remove from heat and let water slowly cook the shrimp and onions. Trust me, if you like beautifully cooked and tender shrimp this is the way to do it
Remove when cooked, and set the ‘boil’ aside to cool. Freeze until next time or refrigerate if you are going to use it soon
Serve with shrimp, sausage, onions and of course a chilly beer or pinot grigio as you desire. No alcohol? This dish is stunning with a plain sparkling water or drink of your choice. That’s up to you!

Shrimp Boil

for 3# of shrimp

1 c. Cider vinegar

Old Bay to taste

1 whole lemon, quartered

water to cover

Combine all ingredients and bring to a boil
Add the shrimp, being careful not to splash any of the hot liquid. This can be a tad painful
Cook for maybe 20 seconds and then remove from heat. The hot water will do the rest
Just let it sit for a spell until the shrimp are just cooked through. This prevents the ‘tire’ effect of shrimp that have been cooked to the consistency of your favorite Michelin. Great on the road…not so great on the tongue

The End of an Era

2011-08-07T15:02:00.000-07:00

So, in 2006 I self-published The Heart of a Kitchen and I am still fairly proud of this short work.  Coming in at a brisk 160-ish pages, it is a collection of short stories and articles from a bygone era; notably, my first year as a food writer.

I am compiling a second book that will be at least double the size, with recipes and color photography, that is already well in the works.  In fact, I am in the compiling stage at present, just trying to figure out how in the flip I am going to organize it and then propose it to publishers.

If you haven't seen the first book, it received good reviews from such esteemed individuals as the former-editor of Sante Magazine, Delmarva Quarterly Art Journal, OC Today, local radio stations et al.

Now that I'm writing off this chapter of my writing career, to use an easily inserted euphemism, I am offering this splendid little paperback beauty for a mere $8 plus shipping.  That's it!

Please visit The Heart of a Kitchen and pick up your copy.  All shipping costs reflect US shipping, and while I can ship overseas, please be ready for the cost of package delivery.

Cheers!

Paul

Sweet Sushi and Strange Dreams

2011-07-31T08:59:00.000-07:00

It’s not often that I speak to someone about being a food writer and not have them inquire as to the origin of my ideas. Foodies find it intriguing; and sometimes so do I.

When I note that it has been seven seasons, I further extrapolate that Sunday nights in my house are interesting to say the least. My children are often exposed to the Marine’s lexicon as I pace around the icebox and pantry, trying to extract just one more chicken article or one more juicy tale of deceit and salmon.

I can usually tell that it’s about to be article night with no ideas in mind when I have my recurring dream about the bullfights in Mexico, and please don’t ask me why. Seeing as how the bullfights make up one of the most intriguing memories of my life, mayhap it is not a bad thing, but perplexing indeed.

On this particular Sunday night, it was shockingly ironic to conjure the bullfight dream as I had already planned on writing about sushi. Bullfights and sushi; [with head cocked to one side in an inquisitive manner] what in the world would I do to tie the two together? On second thought, I won’t even try.

So I won’t even mention the bullfight dream and jump right into sushi. I awakened on this particular morning knowing that I had just served another charity dinner. An article would be easy, so what’s up with the dream? Move on, Paul.

As for the sushi, let’s talk about the hows and whys of this stately dish. Of course being Asian in nature (primarily Japanese but there are other cultures who delight in its presence, notably Korea) there is a bit of a learning curve if authenticity is a goal. Of course, I say this tongue and cheek as I make a crab and peach roll, unbelievable in the contrast of sweet and mild crab and the hot wasabi. Take it with a grain of soy.

Sushi-su, takuan, tobikko, goma, soya, kombu, wasabi and nori are a few terms that might come in handy if you want to undertake this regal roll and it is worth the trip to an Asian market to buy some of these ingredients. We often hear ‘don’t try this at home’ on TV; all I can say is ‘don’t try making this with ingredients purchased at your local larder in the international aisle’. It’s simply not the same.

Making sushi takes practice, but it is rewarding and from what I’m told, one of the healthiest foods rests at your fingertips upon completion. A fun thing to do is to do all of the prep and invite a bunch of friends over. Then, you can have a ‘make your own sushi’ party. It makes for quite an evening, albeit a messy one.

So while the weekend’s charity dinner was a success, and the sushi was a hit, I still had the dream. Oh well, at least the guests were happy. I guess I can have a strange dream every now and then, as long as the food is good.

Ogden Nash on Lettuce

2011-07-07T20:42:00.000-07:00

The Chef Has Imagination
or
It's Too Hard to Do it Easy

Ogden Nash, 1949

Hark to the lettuce lover.

I consider lettuce a blessing.

And what do I want on my lettuce?

Simply a simple dressing

But in dining car and hostel

I grow apoplectic and dropsical;

Is this dressing upon my lettuce,

Or is it a melting popsicle?

A dressing is not the meal, dears,

It requires nor cream nor egg,

Nor butter nor maple sugar,

And neither the nut nor the meg.

A dressing is not a compote,

A dressing is not a custard;

It consists of pepper and salt,

Vinegar, oil, and mustard.

It is not paprika and pickles,

Let us leave those to the Teutons;

It is not a pinkish puddle

Of grenadine and Fig Newtons.

Must I journey to France for dressing?

It isn’t a baffling problem;

Just omit the molasses and yoghurt,

The wheat germ, and the Pablum.

It’s oil and vinegar, dears,

No need to tiddle and toil;

Just salt and pepper and mustard,

And vinegar, and oil.

For Brillat-Savarin, then, and Hoyle

Stick, friends, to vinegar and oil!

Yachtsman, jettison boom and spinnaker,

Bring me oil and bring me vinegar!

Play the music of Haydn or Honegger,

But lace it with honest oil and vinegar!

Choir in church or mosque or synagogue,

Sing, please, in praise of oil and vinegogue.

I’m not an expert, just a beginneger,

But I place my trust in oil and vinegar.

May they perish, as Remus was perished by Romulus,

Who monkey with this, the most sacred of formulas.

And so it was that I found myself profoundly surprised by this poem as I read through a free volume I found in the lobby of the library. As I am not one to fall asleep without a puzzle or a good read, I perused most of the poems in bed over the past couple of nights and this one stuck out as well it should have.

It makes me laugh at all of the mystifying concoctions that I have made over the years as a budding cook and chef, and while I certainly admire Mr. Nash’s candor, I would be remiss of my responsibilities if I told you to stick with the straight-and-narrow in your kitchen explorations.

One thing I can say is that this piece of truthful humor does leave wide open the argument that there are more than four ingredients for a dressing.

Yes Mr. Nash, simplicity is the key, but if everything that we cooked were simple, all would be dull.

So let’s keep it simple, if for no other reason than to keep the old soul of Nash at bay. If we keep to Ogden’s formula, the variance of vinegars and mustards alone would keep your salads fresh and spritely for a couple of months at least.

So go forth, make a simple salad, relish in the fact that it is so easy and delicious and know that in this instance, simpler is better. And when you want to make a more difficult salad dressing, do it and do not be afraid, unless of course the thought of an angry bespectacled specter hovering over your shoulders is too much to bear.

I can taste the salad on my lips as I write this. I can smell the mustard. And I can feel a presence over my shoulder; thankful that I stopped to see what books were free to take.

Rainy Day and Buzzing Body

2011-06-18T04:53:00.000-07:00

Knowing the strange weather anomalies of 2011 around the globe, people tend to have a hard time comprehending that we have had rain three times in the last ten weeks.

Fifty miles to the west is green, but alas we are dry. As such, I was truly a rewarded man yesterday while walking the Culinary Institute's campus in Hyde Park, nested on the Hudson River facing massive cliffs across the water. It is truly prime real estate for storm watchers.

Having just finished three hours of meetings and lunch with colleagues and friends, I was paying more attention to getting my belongings in the car than the weather, but then the thunder came.

It was low and menacing, a sound I completely adore; very King Lear-esque in all of its tempestuous, guttural and earth-shaking majesty.

I quickly ran to the tallest mound I could find and watched the storm roll across the valley in all its splendor. It was breathtaking, and once it was close enough and the penny-sized raindrops began pelting down, I was on my way.

In short, the rain transformed my five and a half hour drive into a gridiron nine-hour jaunt; plenty of time to reflect on the meetings.

A Slim Jim and a Butterfinger later I was fed and finally home. Truth be told, I wasn't sure that the aforementioned delicacies qualified as a meal, but since they were both King-sized, I rest assured that I was fine.

And now it's onto the latest leg of my journey; developing a proposal for publishers to consider my second book. As my impeccable timing would have it, I am a day late, as publishing has taken a hit in the last five years. But as I often say, "off we go, good friends."

18 hours after I first turned the ignition, I have returned home and have my head wrapped around this project more than ever, and the storms played their part. They kept me awake on my drive home, a noble and difficult task I can assure you.

And now it is time to settle in, hope for some rain our way and get my work done; to share, to teach and to learn. I just need a little more thunder for inspiration.

Unhappy Pig; Happy Chefs

2011-05-30T05:20:00.000-07:00

Many cultures the world over have smoked whole pigs. It is a celebration. In many small towns it is an event that symbolizes bounty, sustenance and health. Of course, there is nothing healthy about the event in the eyes of the pig itself, and some would argue that the whole thing is unhealthy for many physical and ethical reasons.

But I am not here to stand on any of those soapboxes. I am here to celebrate the life of a young pig; a young, 200-pound pig who joined us at table Sunday evening as the piece de resistance for the pool opening party at Bellehaven Country Club in Alexandria (I pick up work there to fill in the gaps of my frozen teacher's salary and to practice for the CMC exam which I now hope to take in 2013).

Piggy was hot smoked in the club's new Holstein Smoker for about 13 hours, and as you can see, she was still smoking when on the table. At least it was a Cuban!

At first, the kids were stinky-lipped about the porcine display, but as time went on, most of them tried a little piece and then dutifully got in line with plates to make their sandwich.

When all was said and done the members were fed and happy, the pig picked Carolina-style and smiling little faces were commenting on the anatomy of the beast.

Until next year, thank you for your life, little piggy. You have served us well.

A Basket of Bread

2011-05-25T15:35:00.000-07:00

Bread is a very personal thing. When you think about the first time, or let's be honest the first twenty times that you tried to make it, it might not have worked out so well.

I liken the baking of bread to learning guitar, another passion of mine. Most people quit after their fingers tire or bleed (a natural and respectable human response), or when the song just doesn't sound right. As such, they fall into the ranks of the vast majority that doesn't have the patience to wait and suffer...but your suffering is so temporary and the payoff is eternal.

But when you finally understand that flour is a commodity, that flour in July can be quite different from flour in January, or that something as obscure as your water's pH will define the loaf, then you will start to understand what it means to be a baker. A baker touches the bread, and knows when to add a little more flour or a little less water. He or she can tell when the bread is perfectly proofed. You can smell it.

I take classes at every turn as I always end up with a nice nugget to go along with the other useful and otherwise useless trivia in my brain. This week I learned the 8-braid loaf, pictured above on the left-hand side.

This is my second attempt and I made yet another today for giggles. Like anything, once you truly understand it, it becomes so simple that you want to laugh. It's just a matter of practicing it time and again.

And I can promise you that there is nothing as complexly satisfying as the most simple bread made well. This is a very happy day.

Did I mention that the bread was damned tasty?

Spring Has Sprung

2011-05-01T15:56:00.000-07:00

When it's time to fire up the grill for the season, there's a special feeling in the air. Of course I'm lying through my teeth, or more to the point my keyboard, since I use the grill all year.

But when I speak of 'time to fire up the grill' this time of year by the beach, I more mean that it's time to hose the inch of pollen from the casing of my barbecue box and get things rolling.

And for once I am keeping these posts short so as to not bore you. So here it is; a clean grill, the garden boxes freshly planted and the back yard set up for a summer of bliss.

And today's treat? Truffled Bison Burger: smoked provolone, caramelized onion, vine-ripe tomatoes, hand crafted maple-cured bacon and gobs of truffle butter on the roll and the burger. Man, I love Spring!

The Power of the Vitamix

2011-04-02T16:04:00.000-07:00

Fresh broccoli, kale, shallots, onions and vegetable stock are easily transformed into an amazing soup, topped with roasted sunflower seeds.

I'm keeping it short and sweet this week! With so much going on, I am trying to figure out where to expend my energy in the most efficient manner.

Rest assured, more ramblings are on their way, but for now, enjoy the picture.

It is possible that I am migrating this blog to my own website, so when that happens, I will let you know. And please spread the word so that I may continue to provide these fun diatribes to you.

In the new and approved site, I am aiming to bring you tutorial videos, equipment recommendations and the like. And once again, many props out to Gary Andaas and the Culinary Institute's Master's Collection cookware series.

Cheers,

Pablo

Being Trendy

2011-03-21T16:35:00.000-07:00

As a chef, I need to be up on the popular trends of diet. To further expound, it becomes my responsibility to understand current medical conditions and food allergies, an upswing in which we are experiencing at an unprecedented rate in this country.

The word ‘trend’ does not simply indicate a person’s wants or desires, or a concept that lofty results can be attained by simple work (diet trends, exercise gizmos, etc.). Rather it can reflect an upward turn in the rise of individuals with sensitivities to certain food allergens. For example, at a conference a couple of years ago, I was an audience member to a dietitian from Boston who noted that peanut allergies had grown ten-fold in as many years.

Similarly, wheat sensitivity, aka Celiac’s disease, has grown almost as prevalently in American society. As such, the modern chef has to be well versed in these and many more food sensitivities. Diverticulitis also comes to mind, and the list goes on and on.

Another issue is that of actual pathogens in foods. Have you read the news lately and heard of a great rise in Salmonella, E. Coli or other ‘trendy’ poisons? Well, as far as the eggs are concerned, and I’ll start with that since all health departments are adamant on cooking eggs to the proper temperature, they are different than they were five, ten or fifteen years ago.

Living at the shore, it is obvious how many chicken farmers have closed shop. Yet the demand for chicken is through the roof, as it is considered a white meat and healthier than beef, pork et al. With fewer chicken farmers, and higher demand, it’s a natural formula for overcrowding and a growing environment that might not be as safe as in the past.

Probably the oldest continental sensitivity to gain notoriety among chefs is the allergy to MSG, despite the fact that there is MSG in asparagus and shiitake mushrooms, just to name a couple of natural food sources from which the flavoring compound is extracted. Of course, these are in trace amounts, so it is hardly comparable to the concentrated powders we buy in the spice aisle.

But it begs the question: How are there 1.3 billion Chinese citizens without MSG allergies? This was the question posed to me by Steve, a three-fingered spirited chef from Hong Kong who worked at Ming Garden in Providence while I was a prep cook. It confused him then, and I’m sure it still confounds his reason. But so it is. If a guest asks for no MSG, just leave it out. Stay on the safe side.

Which brings me to today’s post; gluten-free and yeast-free breads. Is it possible? Is it edible? And why, Paul, why?

Due to some recent events, we as a family are changing some aspects of our diet, and unfortunately wheat is one of the staples disappearing from the adult place setting. Originally distraught and overwhelmed by the amount of information and inversely misinformation out there, we started to study.

A quick trip to the health food store and a bag of Pamela’s Products gluten free flour later, it was time to test this interesting concept.

And I can say that I at least won this battle. A fascinating combination of sorghum, rice and tapioca flour, this mix is easily malleable into whatever bready delicacies you can imagine. Does it taste like wheat flour?

Emphatically no, but when I made bagels, it reminded me of the Chart House’s Squaw Bread, sweet and bready. With a touch of butter it was delicious. And replacing the yeast with an acid and alkaline (in this case fresh lemon juice and baking soda), it was a winner.

It takes me one step closer to understanding the trials and tribulations special-diet consumers experience as diners, and this is the point of the lesson. While I don’t consider myself overly trendy, I can honestly say that this is one trend that I will master for the betterment of others’ dining pleasure.

Modern Food; What a Kroc!

2011-02-20T06:23:00.000-08:00

A staggering statistic I ran across earlier this year is the amount of time, in hours, that the average American child spends watching processed food commercials. My children, even the youngest, can be found reading a book and singing the catchy jingles for any given sugar-laden cereal. We’re just as guilty as the next, so none of this is meant as a condemnation in judgment on other folks.

The reality is that the mass marketers have known for fifty years that the most powerful advertising at their disposal is that of ‘nudge-marketing’. Purportedly coined by Mr. Kroc himself of McDonald’s lore, this type of marketing is so effective that it gave Mickey D’s the push it needed to open a seemingly infinite number of franchises globally.

Not sure what nudge-marketing is? Imagine this:

DAD: Yes, son?

SON: Can we go to McDonald's?

DAD: Not today

SON [with a not-so gentle tug on the sleeve with each and every question mark]: please, Dad? please, Dad? please, Dad? please, Dad? please, Dad? please, Dad? please, Dad? please, Dad? please, Dad? please, Dad? please, Dad?

Ray Kroc himself noted that when a child brings his or her grandparents in for burgers, the chain thus has earned two new customers. From there, the trend continued to span every processed food type from TV dinners to fast food to frozen pizza. While marketing focuses on all demographics, it is especially noteworthy when it addresses young and impressionable minds.

And as parents sometimes we don't even know where the problems lie in wait.

The danger is in the wording on the labels. Lobbyists work hand-in-hand with legislators when it comes to verbiage in packaging laws. For example, pay attention to anything with the word ‘fruit’ in the name. It should be scrutinized at the ingredient list. More often than not, unless you’re buying a reputable brand, there’s a good chance that there are more refined sugars and chemicals than anything fruit in the snack, not to mention the sodium levels. And yet we still buy them. Nudge factor.

On days like these, I tend to go simple. I try to figure out the simplest salads; a key in increasing healthier foods in not only our house but in others as well. I teach these techniques in my cooking classes in an effort to better the health of myself and others. I am learning as I go. Believe me; I have not eaten like I do now for the first 42 years of my life.

And while there may be 'unhealthy' ingredients in your salads, you are at the controls. So go make a salad and let your kids help. Get them interested in better foods, and they just might find that they’re tastier, too.

The Championship Game

2011-02-07T15:12:00.000-08:00

I don’t exactly ‘have’ a football team, but I sure do like acting as if I did. You see, I grew up a Redskins fan (which gives me one more thing to work out for the rest of my life) and I lived in downtown and uptown Baltimore for eight years. Mired in conflict, I try to root for the Skins and the Ratbirds every season, but I just can’t bring myself to vow a stern allegiance to either. I simply can’t take either team too seriously.

As such, I revel in the devout loyalty of many fans, some even tattooing their team logos and players’ faces all over the body. More power to them I say.

During the postseason I am amazed at the trash talking, and then at the fall of a given team’s rise to seasonal power, the imminent silence as though the fans had just lost a loved one is deafening. In shock, the zealous minions stumble around wondering where the bomb came from.

No, I take great pride in having no team and in messing with peoples’ minds. When the Steelers were in the Superbowl, I wore a Steelers jersey at school.

“But I thought you hated the Steelers…” the students pondered. Well, I don’t exactly ‘hate’ them but they are definitely not my team. It’s just that I have coworkers who deeply despise them, so it gets under their skin.

When the Packers won, people wondered why I was so pleased. It was just a good game and a good team won fairly. That’s how I watch football and I am calm in mind knowing that I have so much opportunity to confuse and irritate others as they argue for the indefatigability of their team.

I like to think that I’m just rooting for the sport and for the athletic prowess of the players.

Similarly, people often ask me two kitchen-related questions: Who is my favorite chef? And what is my specialty?

Many people seem to get perturbed when I say ‘can’t answer’ and ‘don’t have one’, respectively. Without a specialty, they think, I must be a rudderless ship floating in a sea of food.

Alas, this is nary the case as I explain to the inquisitive individual that as a working chef, my ‘specialties’ were to be found in all facets of the kitchen. I guess if you could count washing pots and pans as a specialty, then I could list that in my top ten.

Under great pressure, I would have to say sauces would rank up in my list of specialties, but to say that I’m a saucier would be a misnomer. There is simply too much that I don’t know and that’s why I read, write, explore and experiment; it’s all in the name of science.

To answer the former question out of sequence, if I had to pick one chef as my ‘favorite’ it would be Thomas Keller. Here’s a chef who never set foot in a culinary classroom in his life, apprenticed the old-fashioned way, and is now the regular culinary ‘Superbowl’ winner every year with award winning restaurants in very different genres in the business. Honestly, though, there are many modern chefs who are accomplishing the same, but Keller has been a constant champion throughout it all.

As I write this, I try to figure out if I really do have a specialty. In the modern American kitchen, most chefs don’t have the luxury of hiring a poissonier (fish cook), saucier (sauce cook), chef de patisserie (pastry chef), garde manger (cold kitchen cook) et al. He or she has to understand the basics of all of these capacities and hire and train their staff to work across the various competencies.

And so we have the modern line cook; if trained properly, well-versed in all aspects of the kitchen. Untrained, they are unfairly fed to the wolves to battle through the rough nights that are a norm in the business.

Not being locked to a specialty, I can study endlessly and absorb the knowledge and works of others, and I can be amazed at the ‘clutch plays’ that often occur in the business.

Recently, while working in Alexandria at a private club, one of the sous chefs, Tim, made a small plate that was so simple and yet so amazing, it grounded me. It is these moments that make me truly enjoy the business.

I rethink my role in the business and gratefully admit that even the smallest technique, assimilated into my repertoire, could be key in leading me to the championship some day.

Oysters with Citrus Sorbet

per person

4 oysters, shucked

4 dabs Sriracha Sauce

1 tsp. Citrus sorbet

Divide the oysters onto plates according to your manner of service. For example, if you are serving an amuse bouche such as pictured above, simply serve one per small plate
Scoop sorbet and place on top of the oyster.
Put a small dab of Sriracha on the shell and you’re done. Serve and eat quickly so the sorbet doesn’t melt

Citrus Sorbet

Simple Syrup

Citrus Juice (tangerine, grapefruit, lemon, yuzu)

Combine simple syrup and juice until you have a strongly flavored liquid. This is to taste, but remember that cold food loses flavor so it must be strong at this point
Using an ice cream maker, freeze according to manufacturers instructions

I'll Say It Again; Faites Simple!

2011-01-31T17:14:00.000-08:00

I can smell summer; the beach, the suntan lotion, the sandy towels, the salt water burning my eyes, the dog kicking sand on the neighboring beachgoers, miserable kids and sunburn.

Going to the beach always sounds like a good idea, and it typically is, but somehow with four kids and the family dog, by the end of the day we’re simply beaten down and just want to get home. I guess it’s a good thing that we are but a stone’s throw away. Ah, the convenience of shore life.

But as I reminisce on past beach days and dream of ones from the future, I step outside and I am briskly reminded that today might not be the best day of all to visit the Atlantic.

Instead, I watch a video of Thomas Keller, world famous chef and owner of quite a few award winning shops. In the video, Keller performs the simplest of tasks; Roasted Chicken on Root Vegetables. The dish is served in his Yountville bistro Bouchon, a nice place where I have had the pleasure of dining before. The chicken was delicate yet bold, and when I show the video to my students, they were trying to figure out why I was so excited about showing them a video of some dude roasting a chicken.

It’s simple, right? That’s so basic, wouldn’t you say?

To which I must agree that yes it is simple, but I pose the question; how many times have you eaten roasted chicken in a restaurant only to wish that you were still eating those rice cakes you used to diet on in the eighties? At least they’d be moister, you think to yourself.

It’s the technique that makes this chicken so special, albeit no more or less special than any other properly cooked chicken. You see, technique is everything. It’s in how we season our food. It’s in how we prepare our vegetables. It’s in how we store our oils or remove the wishbone from the bird before we roast it. It’s how we keep our areas clean of debris and safe to work in.

It’s in everything that we do.

So, motivated by the video and entranced by the aromas that seemed to be popping off of the screen, I roasted a chicken for lunch. The interlaced smells of vegetables and prized poultry wafted through the air with effortless grace, filling one's nostrils with the most amazingly provincial sophistication.

I am chilled no longer. My bones are warm and my hands are no longer ice cubes trying to painfully tap out this article, an effect for which I am eternally grateful.

I remember that I must wait for summer to arrive. Time stops for no man, and thankfully we have the seasons to remind us of the polarity of our world; of an ever-changing dynamic that forces us to adjust. And as I finish writing this, I realize that the meal I have just prepared has done its work. I am full and I am warm. And I am thinking of the beach again.

Roasted Chicken

serves 6

1 ea. roaster chicken

Brine as needed (recipe follows)

S&P to taste

Thyme as needed

EV Olive oil as needed

2 ea. russet potatoes, peeled and cubed

Garlic, minced, to taste

2 ea. Leek whites, washed and cut into julienne

3 ea. med. Carrots, large cut

3 ribs celery, large cut

1 Yellow onion, large cut

Set the chicken in enough brine to cover and let it rest with a plate or pan on top to keep it submerged for three to four hours
Remove from the brine, rinse and pat dry
Preheat your oven to 450F
Season liberally inside the cavity and then truss, or tie, the chicken
When the bird is securely tied, season the outside liberally with salt and pepper and lay some thyme on top
In a frypan, heat up the olive oil until very hot and remove from the stovetop
Add your vegetables and then place the chicken squarely on top
Place this in the oven and let it roast until the internal temperature of the bird reaches 165F. You can pull it out close to that and let the carryover cooking take care of the rest, but I accept no responsibility for that move. This is what I do, but it’s completely up to you
Let the bird slack or relax for ten or fifteen minutes and then carve
Serve on a bed of vegetables and enjoy. The chicken will be so moist and the vegetables will play together nicely, so you don’t really need a sauce with this one

Brine

per gallon of water

¼ c. salt

¼ c. sugar

2 ea. lemons, halved and gently squeezed

3 ea. sage leaves

1 Tbsp. Peppercorns whole

1 or 2 sprigs rosemary if preferred

2 ea. Bay leaves

1 onion, roughly chopped

Combine all of the ingredients until the salt and sugar have dissolved. You may have to use a small portion of the water and heat it up, adding these ingredients and then adding them to the rest of the batch
Voila, you’re done making your brine

Comfort Food For the Gods

2011-01-25T03:17:00.000-08:00

Pot Roast is steeped in classical cooking techniques and traditions, and if you follow the instructions, you can’t help but to have an amazing comfort meal like none you’ve had since Granny’s day, of course assuming that your granny was a chef in Paris decades ago.

There are a few pointers that you need to remember. First, leave the dust on the Crock Pot. This is a tried and true, traditional and mean-green bad-to-the-bone pot roast like you’ve probably never had, and you will need a Dutch oven or a rondeau.

Secondly, you will need to go online and find a recipe for Sauce Espagnole. It takes a little practice, but you can make it days in advance. Thirdly, you need to be very, very patient. If you are not a slow-food junkie, then this recipe is not for you. There is a fair amount of mise en place.

Back to the Sauce Espagnole, this is a mother or grand sauce according to classical French cuisine. What makes it a Mother Sauce is the notion that from this you can add various ingredients to make hundreds of derivative sauces.

In a nutshell, this sauce is nothing more than a brown stock (you should know how to make that), tomato product and flavorings all thickened with a roux made of butter and flour.

Once everything is combined, simply simmer and skim for a couple of hours and you’re done. To reiterate, at this point you can chill and hold for up to a few days in the refrigerator until needed so you don’t need to get all of this done at the witching hour.

Served with roasted potatoes and turnips and then a puree of root vegetables cooked in this unctuous and flavorful sauce, it slowly metamorphoses into the comfort dish of all comfort dishes. It is the most pleasing pot roast I have ever eaten.

It takes some time to make this pot roast; there is no way around it if you want the layers of flavor. It can be done in a day at home, and your house will smell like a fine French bistro. And once you make it all the way through, you will be shocked at the amount of cooking skills you will be assured of having. And then you get to eat your skills.

Pot Roast

serves 8

3# chuck roast, trimmed and trussed

Butter and olive oil as needed

Salt & Pepper to taste

2 c. Dry red wine

4 Cloves garlic, crushed

3 Tbsp. tomato paste

1 med. Onion, halved

1 med. Carrot, in large chunks

2 ribs celery, chunked

Chicken Stock as needed

Sauce Espagnole as needed

Fresh thyme and rosemary to taste

2 Tbsp. whole peppercorns

2-4 bay leave, depending on freshness

Heat the oil and butter until very hot in a pan that will accommodate all of the above ingredients
Liberally season the roast and sear all sides until dark brown. Don’t be timid here. We don’t want boiled meat…or at least I don’t
Remove the meat and set in a pan to catch all juices that may come out while it’s resting
Add a touch more oil and fry the garlic, onion, carrot, celery and tomato paste until darker
Deglaze the pan with the wine and add the stock and Sauce Espagnole
Add the herbs. Cover the pan and place in the oven at 300F for as long as it takes for the beef to be insanely tender
Remove the roast and let rest while you finish the sauce
Strain the sauce and discard the particulates. Place it back on the stovetop and put your trimmed root vegetables in to cook until very tender
When this is done, remove with a skimmer and puree in a blender or food processor until soft and creamy. There will be so much flavor from having been cooked in the sauce that you will have little work to do to season
Now, with all of the infused flavors of the sauce, perform a final fine strain and season to taste.
Bask in your culinary prowess and shower yourself with praise. It’s the coolest thing to make a sauce with so many layers of flavor. Classical technique = wonderful results every time

Roasted Potatoes and Turnips

4 ea. Med. Yukon potatoes, peeled and wedged

2 ea. Turnips, peeled and wedged

S&P

Butter and/or olive oil

Steam or parboil the potatoes only until tender
Remove from water and toss together all ingredients
Roast in a 450F oven until crispy on the outside and tender on the inside

Seared Tuna and Scallops on Vegetables

2011-01-19T17:28:00.000-08:00

Seared Tuna & Scallops

on a Melange of Roasted Veggies

A nice short trip to the mountains always seems to put things back in place for us. Sometimes I think that I should get a couple of jobs in the summertime so that we can save enough for nice winter vacations.

As I looked around at the crisp and pristine mountains, visually and spiritually absorbing the flurries as they fell, somehow it put me in the mood for zesty, fresh food with a little kick. Seafood struck a chord immediately so it was off to find the local market.

Thirty minutes later, armed with a bag of food, it was time to make zesty and spicy seared tuna and scallops over a mélange of roasted pepper, roasted lemon and fennel. Incredibly easy, and full of flavor this is a simple dish to add to your recipe rolodex.

Fennel is said to have good healing properties, and this could be a reason as to why it has been such a formidable staple in the European kitchen, namely in The Med, for centuries. Also in the recipe is dried red chili, which provides heat, an obviously warming trait.

The capsaicin in the chili lends itself to the body to increase circulation and give us a chance to warm our structure from the inside out.

Truth be told, I originally headed to the market to get some fresh shrimp for a little Fra Diavolo. I was dismayed to learn that only precooked shrimp were available. Undeterred, it was but a short glance to the left to realize that the tuna looked perfect, so a quick adjustment yielded what you see in the picture. Fresh, dry scallops finished the protein portion of the plate and it was on to produce.

Before I go any further, I want to write about the dry scallops. I believe that I have written about them before, but it would be presumptuous of me to assume that you read every blasted article, so onward and upward.

Have you ever purchased scallops the size of silver dollars only to get home and cook them down to the size of silver dimes? The reason is that the scallop is wet, a processing term for full of brine. This pumps up the scallop in the raw state, making it look more appealing, but more importantly for the processor, making it heavier for weigh-in. The water simply cooks out with the application of heat. Thus, dry scallops are much-preferred.

I’m happy that the fra diavolo was a no-go, and that we had to suffer through the adjustment. Now I just need to find a reason to call in sick tomorrow so I can stay in the mountains for another day.

New Years Filet

2010-12-31T14:07:00.000-08:00

My wife and I love a good steak, and when it comes to Filet Mignon, I must admit with a heavy heart that it is often difficult to find in restaurants. And when we do find a good one, all too often the place isn't the most consistent one on the market.

As such, we find ourselves (or more to the point, me) breaking down whole tenders at home to ensure that we get perfect steaks, and when I show you the cost, you may well consider doing this yourself.

Since this is New Year's Eve, we wanted a good dinner with which to ring in the new year, so filet it was for my beautiful bride.

The tenderloin purchased was a tail to head tender for a total cost of around $49. As you can see in the picture, from this one piece of meat (and I won't lie a touch of practice) I was able to yield 8 picture-perfect steaks, enough trimmed chunks for at least 4 kabobs and about 10 ounces of scrap suitable enough for grinding. The grind will go into the freezer vacuum-packed until I get enough to thaw out and combine.

If I only costed out 8 steaks, that brings it to a whopping $6.13 per steak, but the cost goes down as I consider the ground beef and the kabob meat, so it's hard to argue the price on this great cut.

So as I sit down to welcome 2011, I'll giggle at our beefy value and wish each and every one of you a very happy, and cheap 2011!

Cheers and many successes to all

Cod and Molasses; Trade and Trammel

2010-12-28T14:41:00.000-08:00

Forgetting that I asked my amazing wife for books (I am somewhat of a broken record), I once again received volumes of letter with an assortment of texts of culinary lore for Christmas.

The first was a non-culinary book I read when I was serving in the Marines, and if I had to pin it on a date, I would have to say it was 1991. Back in those days, it probably would have taken me a year to read a book. Now, however, it was laid to rest in a day, and it was even more refreshing and surprising than I remembered it almost two decades prior.

The book is A Confederacy of Dunces by JK Toole, a scintillating comedy set in New Orleans in the early 60s. Communists, revolutionaries, socialites, bleeding-heart do-gooders (who in their attempts to help only solidify the common notion that the road to hell is paved with good intentions) and greasy boxes of tea cakes are only minimized by the large mass of a flatulent beast by the name of Ignatius Reilly, a slothful, educated do-nothing who bellows his wisdom to ensure any surrounding inferior beings that he knows more than the rest.

Since this is not a book review, I will leave it to you to read the book and post your thoughts. What an amazing read.

Next on the docket was Cod; a Biography of the Fish that Changed the World by Kurlansky. Short and sweet, it is a detailed and well-oriented piece on cod, and if one could be more specific, of the value of salt-cod throughout modern history. So far it is a good read, and I am taking plenty of mental notes for future articles.

Ironically, as we had just visited friends on Christmas Eve for a Feast of Seven Fishes, my dish was from salt-cod. Executing a variation on #1145 of A. Escoffier, I made croquettes from the salt-cod and mashed potatoes, using a crust of graham, almond and maize. Its crisp was the perfect contrast to the soft volcanic interior. And with the sweet and tangy tomato sauce to offset the savory filling, it was a smash hit.

And when I think about the dunces who may very well be in confederacy against me, I can't help but be thankful that while I am educated, I know that I know little and must keep reading in order to enlighten myself before anyone else.

For now, I will consider myself the dunce, but one who can make a mean croquette. It's why my wife married me.