The Curmudgeonly yet Amiable Foodster

Pasta with creamed corn

2011-07-20T11:38:00.002-05:00

In some parts of the country, fresh sweet corn is already available. Not quite here in Minnesota, but it’s close. This very easy recipe would be fine in the middle of winter with frozen corn, but if you can get fresh corn, it’s a nice change from corn on the cob - not that there are many foods better than that. The amounts indicated are for a pound of pasta. I used rotini, but if one likes the symmetry or the theme of small corn kernels, one could use orzo or ditalini.

Fresh corn, 3 ears, kernels removed

One yellow bell pepper, cut roughly the size of corn kernels

Garlic, two cloves, crushed

White pepper

Light cream, 2 cups

Vermouth or white wine

Scallions, minced

Minced pimientos, I small jar, drained

Salt

Butter, 1-2 Tbs

Asiago cheese, grated, a cup or more

Pasta

Reserve one cup of the corn kernels and a cup or less of the yellow bell pepper, depending on the size. Place the remaining corn and bell pepper in a saucepan, along with the light cream, garlic, and pepper, and bring to a boil. Remove from the heat and carefully pour into a blender. Puree. Return to the saucepan and add the pimientos, scallions, and vermouth or white wine. Bring to a boil, then turn down the heat and allow to simmer for a few minutes to thicken slightly. Add some salt. In a separate skillet, melt the butter and quickly saute the reserved corn kernels and the reserved pieces of yellow bell pepper until a bit charred.

In the meantime, cook the pasta. Drain and return to the pot. Add the creamed corn mixture. Plate and add the sauteed corn and bell pepper, finishing with the cheese.

2011-07-15T13:26:00.003-05:00

Scallops on potato "risotto"

This is a variation of a long-lost recipe wherein the potatoes were referred to as “potato risotto”. I made it and other variations for the first time probably twenty years ago because the faux risotto is really quite good, and it takes to seafood like a duck to water or Chianti to pizza or some similar analogy. When I made it recently with the scallops I used some blood orange juice I’d had frozen since last winter, blood oranges being available in the winter months here. As I type this, we in the Twin Cities are bracing for a run of 90+ degree temperatures, so summer is definitely making its presence known. Ordinary oranges are likely to be the only type of oranges available. If, however, you use ordinary paprika instead of smoked paprika, much of the appeal of the dish will be lost.

Russet potatoes, 2, peeled and diced

Clam, shrimp, or other seafood broth, or chicken broth, 2 cup

Dry vermouth or white wine, 1/4 cup

Garlic cloves, 2, minced

Pimientos, 1 small jar minced

White pepper

Butter, 2-3 Tbs

Parmesan, Romano, or Asiago cheese, 1/2 cup, grated

Salt

Sea scallops, 8 (for 2 servings)

Smoked paprika, 2 Tbs

White pepper

Butter, 2 Tbs

Olive or canola oil, 2 Tbs

Blood orange juice or regular orange juice, 1/2 cup

Lemon or tangerine vodka, 1/2 cup

Heavy cream, 1/4-1/2 cup

Salt if necessary

Place the diced potatoes, the broth, vermouth, and garlic in a large skillet and boil under the liquid is almost gone and the potatoes are soft but not disintegrating. Add the remaining five ingredients and set aside.

Make sure the scallops are dry. Mix the smoked paprika and white pepper, spread on a plate, and dip the tops and bottoms of the scallops in the mixture, pressing a bit to make sure it adheres. Heat the butter and oil in a skillet over medium high heat, and saute the scallops, about a minute or so on each side, taking great care not to overcook them.

Place the re-heated potato mixture on serving plates, with the scallops on top.

In the same skillet in which the scallops were cooked, toss in the orange juice and the vodka and boil on high for a minute. Remove from the heat and add the cream and salt. Pour the sauce over the scallops and potatoes. Scatter some chives or scallions.

Meat loaf masquerading as Chinese food

2011-06-30T16:39:00.002-05:00

It occurred to me that, among the fifty billion versions of meat loaf I’ve made over the past four decades, I probably haven’t made one with Chinese flavorings. Mexican, Middle Eastern, German, etc. Never, loosely construed, Chinese. Here it is.

Dried mushrooms such as shiitakes, a small handful

Rice wine or dry sherry

Ground beef and ground pork, in a 2:1 ratio (or not)

Jalapenos, 3-4 seeded and deveined

Garlic, 3 cloves

Ginger, a slice

Egg, 1

Soy sauce, 3 Tbs

Black bean garlic sauce, 3 tbs

Onion, about 1 cup, minced

Bread slice, 1

Milk, 1/2 cup

Hoisin sauce

Cilantro, minced

Thick noodles

Hoisin sauce

Scallions

Sesame oil

Cover the mushrooms with the rice wine or dry sherry and allow to rehydrate for a couple of hours. Mince.

Soak the bread in the milk for ten minutes or so.

Place the meats and the next seven ingredients in a processor and mince. Squeeze some of the milk out of the bread and add the bread to the processor and mince again.

Transfer to a bowl and mix in the mushrooms. Now pack it all into a loaf pan, spread some hoisin sauce on top, and cook for around an hour at 350 degrees.

The noodles you see in the photo are dried Chinese noodles (actually Taiwanese, depending on your position regarding that dispute). They have a meaty taste which goes well with . . . meat. I added hoisin, scallions, and sesame oil after cooking and draining. Cilantro is spread about. If the meat loaf is a bit too dry for your liking, spread some more hoisin over it after plating.

Pasta with brie and mushrooms

2011-06-15T12:56:00.001-05:00

I had some left-over brie and I felt like pasta - felt like eating pasta; I myself didn’t feel “like” pasta. I then remembered a recipe from Cooking Light a couple of years ago, which involved brie and pasta, so I pulled out that issue. This isn’t the same recipe, as I’ve made some significant alterations, but credit where credit is due: I got the idea from that Cooking Light recipe. This is very creamy-tasting in spite of the use of skim milk instead of cream. It’s also, as can be seen, very, very easy. Fresh mushrooms can, of course, be substituted for the shiitakes.

Tubular pasta (so the sauce can get inside), 8 oz

Skim milk, 2 cups

Flour, 3 Tbs

Salt, 1 tsp

White pepper, several grinds

Ripe brie, 6 oz, cut into small pieces

Asiago, 1/2 c, grated

Olive oil, 1 Tbs

Butter, 1 Tbs

Dried shiitakes, several. sliced

Scallions, 5 or 6, sliced

Truffle oil

Cook the pasta according to package instructions.

While this is occurring, place 1/2 cup of the milk in a saucepan with the flour and heat over medium heat, stirring, until it’s thoroughly mixed. Now gradually add the rest of the milk, stirring, until it thickens. Add the salt and pepper.

Add the cheeses to the sauce and melt.

Heat the olive oil and butter in a pan and saute the mushrooms.

Drain the pasta and return to the pot, adding the sauce, and mix. Distribute to serving plates and put the mushrooms on top. Drizzle some truffle oil on top of the whole thing.

Crab, potatoes, prosciutto, and chive oil

2011-05-22T13:08:00.001-05:00

This recipe involves very few ingredients, and by far the most important of which is the crab meat. Ideally, one should get Dungeness crab meat, but in this part of the country it isn’t widely available (Coastal Seafoods in Minneapolis and St Paul usually has it, cooked, extracted, and frozen in one pound containers). Failing that, buy the most expensive you can find. Do not - repeat, do not - use those small cans of alleged crab meat found next to the minced clams and tuna. That stuff has no taste.

Dungeness crab or blue crab meat, 1 lb.

Potatoes, 3 or 4 depending on the size

Salt and ground pepper

Olive oil

Prosciutto, 4 to 6 oz., cut in small pieces

Chives, a “bunch”, sliced

Extra virgin olive oil, 1/2 cup

Salt and ground white pepper

Minced pimientos

Place the chives and the half cup of extra virgin olive oil in a food processor or blender and process until smooth. Pour the contents into a sieve over a bowl. Press down on the solids. Discard the solids and keep the clear green liquid. You now have chive oil. Add a bit of salt and some ground white pepper.

Peel the potatoes, cut in half (to speed the cooking process), and boil in salted water. Drain, and when they’re cool, slice 1/4” thick. Brush both sides of the slices with oil - olive, canola, or vegetable. Salt and pepper one side and place on a cookie sheet in one layer. Heat the oven to 425 degrees and bake for ten minutes or so, long enough to begin to brown.

Heat a teaspoon of oil in a frying pan and cook the prosciutto pieces until just barely crisp.

Heat the crab meat in a microwave until just warm. It’s already cooked, you know. You just want to take the chill off in case it’s been in the refrigerator.

Place some potato slices on each plate (this recipe is for three or four servings), then some crab on top, then some prosciutto, and finally drizzle some chive oil over the whole thing, garnished with minced pimiento.

Thai shrimp and noodles

2011-05-15T18:11:00.001-05:00

Here’s an ostensibly Thai preparation that I put together one night because I didn’t want to go the grocery store and because I had all the ingredients on hand. This kind of Thai recipe is very commonplace, but I did two things that make it ever so slightly different. I used a can of mango nectar which I reduced by about half to intensify its fruitiness, and I tossed in some corn.

The green curry paste can be found in many grocery stores in small jars, along with red and yellow. One tablespoon is enough to give this just a bit of a kick, but it’s by no means incendiary. Do not confuse Thai curry paste with Indian curry powder. Big difference, not that the latter would make a terrible dish here by any means.

The lemongrass is best found in Asian markets. I’ve seen it available in ordinary grocery stores in those little clear plastic containers alongside fresh herbs such as basil, thyme, and sage. The typical price for all of these things is about $3, which is absurd for the two sticks of lemongrass that you get. Pay it if you like. An alternative is to simply squeeze a tablespoon or two of fresh lemon or lime juice into the finished dish.

I used dried Japanese spinach noodles because they’re a pale green, and they appealed to my sense of aesthetics. Any spinach taste is quite subtle. Use another noodle if you like, and, of course, jasmine rice would be good, too.

Canola oil, 1 Tbs

Garlic, 1 or 2 cloves, minced

Ginger, 2 tsp, minced

Green curry paste, 1 Tbs, more or less depending on your heat tolerance

Coconut milk, 1 13.6 oz can

Mango nectar, 1 11.3 oz can

White pepper, several grinds

Salt, 1 tsp

Lemongrass, 1 4” or 5” inch length, split

Bamboo shoots, sliced, half of one small can

Corn, 1 cup

Basil, several leaves

Shrimp, 8 oz, shelled and deveined

Scallions, 3 or 4, sliced

Noodles, 4 or 5 oz

Reduce the mango nectar over high heat until it’s about half its original amount.

Cook the noodles according to package instructions.

Heat the oil in a large skillet or wok. Sauté the garlic and ginger for a minute or so, taking care not to burn the garlic. Now put in the curry paste and continue sautéeing for another minute. Pour in the coconut milk and reduced mango nectar. Add the white pepper and salt, the lemongrass, the bamboo shoots, the corn, and a few torn basil leaves. Turn down the heat and simmer for five or ten minutes. Now add the shrimp and cook for ten minutes. Add the sliced scallions and serve atop the noodles.

Butternut squash pasta with walnut sauce

2011-04-25T09:45:00.002-05:00

I encountered some butternut pasta the other day - dried, not fresh - and its yellow color was appealing. Of course, pastas made with various vegetables have, at best, only a subtle hint of those vegetables. One isn’t going to taste tomato pasta and say, “Damn! San Marzano tomatoes picked in mid-August from the leeward side of the Valle del Sarno, southeast corner!” Still, knowing this, I purchased it and now having consumed it, can confirm that the squash flavor is indeed subtle. But since its color didn’t fade at all, it was still aesthetically pleasing on the plate. If you can’t find dried butternut pasta, cook some winter squash and puree it along with the other sauce ingredients.

I wanted a smooth sauce but I also knew mushrooms would pair nicely with the sauce I had in mind, so I simply ground some dried shiitakes. Just put several of them in a coffee grinder and grind as you would coffee beans. One doesn’t necessarily want coffee flavoring in this sauce, so ideally you have a grinder dedicated to spices and such. If not, clean your coffee grinder thoroughly.

I also wanted a relatively light sauce; i.e., no butter and no heavy cream. So I used skim milk (although I indicate below that cream can be used), and some of the pasta water to thin the sauce.

Butternut squash pasta, 1 lb

Dried mushrooms, ground

Walnuts, 1/2 cup, toasted

Bread, a couple of slices, crusts removed, torn into pieces

Cream or milk, 1/2 cup

Shallot, 1 large, minced

Garlic, 1-2 cloves, minced

Salt and pepper

Fresh basil, several leaves

Pasta cooking water

Walnut oil on the cooked pasta

A small jar of minced pimientos

Parsley

Place the ground mushrooms and the remaining sauce ingredients in a food processor and puree. Remove to a saucepan, heat and keep warm.

In the meantime, you will have cooked the pasta, but before you drain it, scoop a half cup or possibly more of the cooking water into the sauce, enough to make a good consistency which is neither too thick nor too thin. This might be called "The Goldilocks Principle".

After you drain the pasta, mix in a couple of tablespoons of walnut oil. Olive oil can substitute. Put the pasta on the plates, the sauce atop, with minced pimientos and parsley as garnish. And there you have it.

Scallops with pureed potatoes and green pea cakes

2011-04-19T10:23:00.001-05:00

Some may have seen my lecture on scallops elsewhere on this blog, but here it is again: Scallops have been my favorite edible aquatic creatures for as long as I can remember . . . (pause for effect) . . . provided they are good scallops in the first place and provided they aren’t overcooked and transmogrified into hockey pucks. Far, far better to undercook scallops than to overcook them, particularly since undercooked, or for that matter, uncooked scallops can be very good. Another personal preference: Big, fat sea scallops are better than small bay scallops or calico scallops which frequently masquerade as bay scallops. Yet another qualification: Buy only dry scallops, not wet. The latter have been marinating in a phosphate preservative which causes the scallop to absorb moisture which adds to the weight (so you’re paying for the preservative) and makes it almost impossible to brown the scallop.

All right, enough of the prefatory information. This recipe will be good without the truffle oil and truffle salt, but not as good. I don’t care that some “foodies” have alleged overuse of truffle oil, claiming that it’s faddish. I don’t put it on my breakfast cereal; in fact, I’m quite selective in its use. Leaving aside the fact that most truffle oil on the market isn’t actually made with real truffles - it’s made with truffle “flavoring” - it’s actually very good in some preparations, and its aroma certainly bears a similarity to the real thing. The truffle salt is icing on the cake here.

The dish is improved by pureeing the potatoes, not just by mashing them. Use a ricer for this purpose as well as large amounts of butter and cream. Eat less the next day. Don’t ever put cooked potatoes in a food processor unless you want something with the consistency of glue on the plate.

The green pea cakes are a nice accompaniment. I’ve lifted it from a cookbook by Jean-Georges Vongerichten, Simple Cuisine (Prentice-Hall Press, 1990).

Sea scallops, 12 oz or so for two people

Smoked paprika

Flour

Salt

White pepper

Butter

Canola or other vegetable oil

Mashed (pureed) potatoes

Prodigious amounts of butter and heavy cream

Frozen green peas, 1 1/2 cups, thawed

1 whole egg plus 1 egg yolk

1/2 cup heavy cream

3 Tbs flour

5 Tbs butter

Salt and pepper

Dried chervil, 1 tsp (optional)

Truffle oil

Truffle salt

Cook red, low-starch potatoes or a combination of low-starch and baking potatoes. Drain. When it’s cool, run them through a ricer. Return to a pan and add a lot of butter and cream, along with some salt and pepper. Keep this warm.

Combine the peas, egg, egg yolk, cream, and flour in a food processor and process until smooth. Melt 3 tablespoons of the butter, add to the pea mixture, and process, adding salt and pepper. If you have some dried chervil, add a teaspoon to the mixture. Over medium heat, melt the other 2 tablespoons of butter in a non-stick pan, or use non-stick spray. Drop about 2 tablespoons of pea mixture into the pan and cook until the pea cakes are browning around the edges and firming up enough to flip them without destroying them. Brown the other side. Keep warm until time to serve the dish.

Remove the small muscle sometimes found on the sides of sea scallops. It’s whiter in color than the pearl color of the scallop. Combine some flour with the smoked paprika and add some white pepper. Make sure the scallops are dry. Press the tops and bottoms of the scallops into the flour mixture. Heat the butter and oil over medium high heat and add the scallops. Depending on their size and the heat of the pan, it should take no more than a minute or, at most, two minutes per side. I’ve already emphasized the importance of not overcooking them.

Put the pureed potatoes on the plates with the scallops on top. If there is any butter/oil remaining in the pan, drizzle it over the scallops. Place one or two pea cakes alongside. Now drizzle a bit of truffle oil on the scallops and potatoes and finish with some truffle salt.

Smoked salmon and wild rice

2011-04-13T10:20:00.001-05:00

What you want here is hot-smoked salmon, not cold-smoked. The former comes in the form of recognizable salmon fillets, sometimes with flavorings such as peppercorns or “Cajun” spices. The latter is thinly sliced, such as would go on a bagel with a schmear (that’s New Yorkese for cream cheese). This is rather important because cold-smoked salmon is just too delicate for this preparation.

A second note about ingredients involves the wild rice. Some wild rice is grown in California. I’ve tried it and found it inferior to Minnesota wild rice. There are subcategories of the latter such as Chippewa/Ojibwe hand-harvested rice, commercially grown paddy rice, and others. Hand-harvested is the best and most expensive, but commercially grown will suffice in this recipe.

Hot smoked salmon, skinned, about 10 oz for two servings,

Olive oil

Bacon, thick-cut lean applewood or hickory smoked, six slices, chopped

Chicken broth, 2-3 cups

Carrot, 1, quarter-inch slices

Potato, 1 medium sized red, half-inch pieces

Garlic, 1 clove, minced

Onion, 1, chopped

Tomato paste, 2 Tbs

Bay leaf, 1

Dried thyme, 1/2 - 1 tsp

Wild rice, 1/2 - 3/4 cup
Scallions for garnish

Cook the bacon in a skillet. Remove the pieces and reserve, leaving the fat behind. Put the chicken broth in the skillet and add the following seven ingredients. Bring to a boil and add the wild rice. Reduce the heat to low and cover the pan. It will typically take 45 minutes to an hour for the rice to be done. The individual grains should have begun to split, and the will be tender but still have some bite. When this occurs, turn off the heat but keep the lid on while you prepare the salmon.

The preparation of the salmon is very simple. It’s already cooked, you know, so all you want to do is heat it. In, preferably, a non-stick pan, heat the olive oil on medium high and quickly sear the salmon on both sides.

Turn the wild rice mixture onto serving plates and place a salmon piece atop each, with a scattering of scallions.

Rigatoni with sausage, chard, and red bell pepper sauce

2011-04-10T10:09:00.001-05:00

I think what makes this preparation pretty good is the red bell pepper sauce. There is no cream in it, yet it tastes rich. The sausage already contains spices, but add basil or fennel or whatever you like if you prefer. To me, it isn’t necessary, though. Don’t be tempted to use purchased roasted red bell peppers in a jar. While these are quite good for some uses, you would lose the significant additional flavor obtained in this recipe with the shallots and garlic.

Rigatoni or other tubular pasta, 1 lb

Olive oil + some on drained pasta

Italian sausage, 1 lb., either mild or spicy

Swiss chard, a bunch, leaves trimmed and chopped

Red chile flakes (optional)

Pine nuts or almonds, 1/4 cup, toasted

For the red bell pepper sauce:

2 red bell peppers

2-3 Tbs olive oil

2 garlic cloves

2 shallots

around 12 oz chicken broth

Remove the stem, seeds, and veins from the peppers and chop.

Heat the oil in a skillet. Add the peppers, shallots, and garlic and cook over low heat for several minutes. Now add the broth and continue simmering for another 20 minutes or so. Put the mixture into a food processor and puree. Return to the pan, add salt and pepper, and keep warm at a simmer. If it gets too thick, add some more chicken broth.

If the sausage is in casings, remove the casings.

Heat a couple of tablespoons of olive oil in a large skillet and add the sausage, breaking up any clumps as it’s cooked. (I had to mince the cooked meat in a food processor.) When it’s sufficiently cooked, place on top the chopped chard, turn down the heat to low, and put a lid on the pan. The chard will reduce in size within a few minutes. It may be necessary to add a small amount of water or broth to prevent burning. Stir the cooked chard into the meat.

Cook and drain the pasta, return to the pot, and toss with a couple of tablespoons of olive oil. Now toss the pasta with the sausage-chard mixture.

Place the pasta on serving plates and top with the red bell pepper sauce and then a scattering of pine nuts or almonds.

Chicken with Indian spices and pasta

2011-04-06T10:46:00.002-05:00

Rice is the more typical accompaniment for this sort of thing in India, but noodles aren’t unheard of on the Asian subcontinent. Besides, there’s no law prohibiting this combination.

I was apparently feeling energetic, so I made the pasta. If you utilize a food processor, as I did, that part could hardly be easier. If you have a manual roller-type pasta press, producing flat pasta is also easy. If you don’t, you can use a rolling pin to achieve the desired thinness. (Don’t look too closely; I made it too thick.) For a pasta recipe, consult any Italian pasta cookbook, or failing that, the web. Look for recipes for all-purpose flour and egg. For visual effect and for a bit of flavor, I added 3 tablespoons of good paprika and 2 tablespoons of tomato paste to 2 cups of flour. If you don’t want to make your own, just purchase flat lasagna (not “oven ready”), and add the paprika and tomato paste to the chicken mixture.

Dark chicken meat is better than breast meat for this recipe, because it has more flavor. If you can’t find already ground dark chicken, buy boneless thighs and trim some but not all of the fat before mincing it in the processor.

Ground chicken dark meat, 1 lb

Green jalapeno, seeded, deveined, and chopped (unless you like heat)

Red jalapeno, seeded, deveined, and chopped (same here)

Shallot, minced

Ginger, 1 Tbs, minced

Garlic, 2 cloves, minced

Almonds, raw, 1/4 cup

Vegetable oil, 2 Tbs (Mustard oil if you have it)

Nigella, 1 Tbs (AKA kalonji or onion seed; omit if you can’t or don’t want to get it.)

Spinach, 6-8 oz

Saffron, 1/4 tsp

Plain yoghurt, 10 oz or so

Paprika, 3 Tbs (See above)

Tomato paste, 2 Tbs (See above)

Flat, lasagna-type pasta

Cilantro

Remove 2 or 3 Tbs of the yoghurt and set aside. Crumble the saffron in a small bowl with a tablespoon of warm water and set aside.

Combine the meat and the next six ingredients in a food processor and combine. Heat the vegetable oil in a large skillet, add the contents of the processor plus the nigella, and cook until the meat is done. Add the spinach and cover to allow it to reduce in volume. Mix into the chicken. Just prior to serving, add the reserved 2 or 3 tablespoons of yoghurt.

Place one sheet of the lasagna on a plate and spread some of the chicken mixture atop.

Place a second sheet on top of this. Drop some of the saffron yoghurt on top of this and add some cilantro. Repeat for additional servings.

2011-04-05T15:44:00.002-05:00

Calamari steaks, curry coconut vegetables, and black rice

2011-03-14T16:08:00.000-05:00

If you happen to find calamari - which is to say, squid - steaks, here’s something to do with them. But first, you might ask, what is a calamari steak? It’s simply the body of a large squid, not the small ones out of which the ubiquitous fried calamari appetizers are made. The body is split and laid out flat; hence, the name “steak”. They’ll almost certainly be sold frozen. Best to thaw them overnight in the refrigerator. They might still be covered with some ice crystals, so scrape them off with a knife and blot the steaks dry with paper towels. The idea is to be sure they’re dry when they hit the heat so they brown rather than steam. If you’ve never cooked with it before, here is the most important thing to remember: Do not cook it longer than, at most, two minutes per side. Otherwise, it will turn to rubber.

Squid itself doesn’t have a great deal of flavor. Like tofu, it’s best considered a flavor absorber, and what better flavor to absorb than a curry-coconut milk sauce? The following recipe is quite easy. Thai curry paste in small jars is widely available in ordinary grocery stores. If it isn’t in yours, I suggest you take your business to a larger, better equipped one. I used red curry paste, but green and yellow would be fine, too. Black rice is also called “forbidden” rice because, as legend has it, Chinese emperors forbade anyone else to eat it besides themselves. It might be a bit more difficult to find, but I’ve noticed that it’s becoming increasingly available. It’s worth searching out because it’s both highly nutritious and tasty in a nutty way. Plus, as you see in the photo, it adds some aesthetic interest on the plate compared with ordinary white rice, which you may use instead if your search turns up empty-handed.

Thai red curry paste, 1 or more Tbs depending on your heat tolerance

Coconut milk, 1 13.5 oz can

Baby corn, 1 16 oz can, rinsed and sliced

Green beans, several, trimmed

Shallot, 1 large, minced

Red jalapeños, 2, seeds and veins removed unless you want the heat

White pepper

Salt

Scallions, 3 or 4, trimmed and sliced

Cilantro, chopped

Calamari steaks

Peanut or canola oil

Salt and pepper

Forbidden/black rice, 1 cup

Chicken broth

Place the curry paste and the coconut milk in a large saucepan and heat to boiling, toss in the corn, green beans, shallot, and jalapeños, and reduce to a simmer. Add the white pepper and salt. If you’re going to be serving the dish quickly, you should parboil the green beans before adding them to the mixture; otherwise, they may not be sufficiently done.

Cook the rice according to package instructions, using chicken broth instead of water.

If you have a ridged, stove-top grilling pan, heat it on high. Brush the steaks with some oil, salt and pepper them, and put them on the grill pan. Two minutes a side, maximum.

If you don’t have such a pan, use any other pan, although cast iron is preferred.

Throw the scallions and cilantro into the simmering vegetables.

Place each steak on a plate, with the vegetables and rice alongside.

Wine descriptions and ratings: Pretense and Unreliability?

2011-03-09T10:30:00.001-06:00

Wine and pretense are two words that seem to go together quite naturally, don’t they? There are multiple definitions for the word pretension or pretense, but the usage intended here and, in fact, the usage intended in most contexts for most people is, “a claim to superiority or to superior judgment”, with the strong implication that it’s “pretended” or based on weak evidence. Sometimes the claim to superior judgment or taste is actually grounded in some fact, but the pretentious person is seen as too eager to display that knowledge in an effort to impress others.

Wine has no monopoly on pretense. Society if full of manifestations of pretension, in clothing (otherwise, why do people pay far more for an article of clothing with a status symbol logo?), in motor vehicles, in television sets, in furniture, jewelry, and so on and on. One could even make the case that, were it not for pretension and status-seeking, our economy would be even further down the toilet than it is. Be that as it may, this particular post concerns food and drink. More specifically, I want to examine two different yet intricately related questions: One addresses whether the critics and winemakers can make the taste distinctions I ridicule in the following paragraphs. The other asks whether the critics are really as expert as they claim in distinguishing the quality of different wines.

First, let’s take a look at the plethora of terms used to describe the taste of wine. In short, they are hilarious. Unless you don’t partake of the fermented grape, you have surely noticed vintners’ descriptions on the labels of wine bottles and aficionados’ fanciful attempts to explain the contents by references to ingredients which are completely absent in those contents. Note that I am not denying that some adjectives can be very useful and detectable even by novices. A couple of examples might be a “buttery” chardonnay particularly if compared to a non-buttery one, and a “grassy” Sauvignon Blanc. Neither ingredient is found in these wines, yet one’s palate can discern the applicability of these adjectives, which, in turn, can be helpful to the consumer in selecting wines in the future. Similarly, one can recognize a “tannic” character and differences in sweetness in wines. There are many other descriptions, too, that, with some tasting and practice, can be perceived as making some sense. But we’ve gone far beyond the sensible, and some “experts” make a living doing so. Consider:

A few years ago, in the now defunct magazine, Cottage Living, there was an article titled, “20 Luxury Wines under $20”, written by Amy Zavatto, co-author of The Renaissance Guide to Wine and Food Pairing; hence, an official wine aficionado(aficionada?). I’ve used this article, not for the purpose intended by the author, a number of times since then as an object of amusement, flavored with more than a hint of scorn. Here are some of her characterizations: “Mixed berry pie”. Pie?! Mixed berries? “Stone fruit”. Meaning peaches? Apricots? Alas, she doesn’t tell us, so we’re left adrift, not knowing just what type of stone fruit. “Lemon hard candy”. Hard? Candy? This is Viognier, by the way. “Lemon meringue”. Meringue? Not just lemon? “Cherry cola”. Does she mean it brings back memories from childhood at the corner fountain – for those of a certain age? And . . . a pregnant pause to build anticipatory tension . . . “snapped saplings”!! What in the name of all that is right and good is that supposed to mean? (It’s a Cabernet.) Picture yourself going into a well-stocked wine shop before your big dinner party and saying, “I’m serving some choice cow slabs tonight to the influential cognoscenti of our city, and I think a wine which tastes of snapped saplings would be perfect and would cement my reputation as S/he Who Cannot Be Out-Pretensioned”. How do you think the proprietor would react? Would he say, “A fine choice, Sir/Madame, but we have many wines with the nose of snapped saplings. I must know the species of tree to which you refer, as well as its age to advise you properly”.

This person is hardly the only one guilty of such pretentious hilarity. Look on the wine labels. An inexpensive Aussie Grenache-Shiraz tastes, we are told, of “eucalyptus”. Next time I have a bad cough, I’ll rush to the store to purchase it. Gala apples characterize a well-known California vintner’s Chardonnay. Damn! I could’ve sworn it was Fuji apples! We’re told to expect red currants, not black currants. Not just raspberries but “wild” raspberries. Leaving aside the fact that they weren’t part of the winemaking process at all, are we expected to believe that any mortal can distinguish between store-bought fresh raspberries and wild ones in a wine? What about raspberries you’ve grown in your back yard garden? They’re neither wild nor store-bought. Hell, what about frozen raspberries? Another label claims that grapefruit and white peaches will be found in the bottle - white peaches, not yellow.

Can the “experts” really distinguish between a wine which has notes of Gala apples from a wine with notes of Fuji apples? Of course not, although simply “apples” might very well be applicable to some wines.

Now having said this, I should acknowledge that flavors are combinations of chemical components. Think about it: What exactly is blueberry flavor? It’s a specific combination of chemical compounds with a specific molecular structure. So is it possible that there are certain combinations present - currants, for example - in certain wines, and the palates of the experts are so sensitive and finely tuned that they can detect them? So when they claim their presence, they’re being both truthful and accurate? This would be a very interesting area for further research, although its importance pales in comparison to research into cancer and heart disease. Unless and until the day comes when it’s convincingly demonstrated that wine experts’ taste buds are so far superior to normal peoples’ taste buds as to be virtually supernatural, I think we have to say no one can distinguish between red and black currants, not to mention snapped saplings and lemon meringue.

“Suggestibility from Authority” can be very powerful. The “expert”, the authority, says his much deeper knowledge and experience - much greater than yours - permits him to tell you what to thin and, in the case of wine, taste. The impressionable then simply accept what they’re told. This human dynamic is commonplace in many areas of communication. One should, in fact, often yield to claims made by the truly knowledgeable. Who am I to question the latest findings in quantum mechanics and string theory? A physician may or may not be correct about a diagnosis, and I should ask her many questions, but I’m in no position to contradict her. But, particularly in such impressionable and subjective areas as wine, and particularly given the results of some recent research, the old adage “Question Authority” or even “Ignore Authority” should prevail. There’s, of course, an easy way to test the critics’ superhumanly sensitive and imaginative palates. It’s called blind tastings paired with statistical analysis.

So now, as promised, let’s take a closer look at the experts’ expertise in rating wines on ordinal (ranked) numerical scales. There’s a long history of scientific research calling into question the palates of wine critics. Some recent evidence has emerged that these wine “experts” are, if not full of it, at least half full of it, and by “it”, I’m not referring to wine, rather to the “end product” of wine and food that has been consumed.

Leonard Mlodinow is a physicist at the California Institute of Technology who has authored a number of books, most recently The Grand Design, co-authored with Stephen Hawking. He also likes wine. The Wall Street Journal published an article of his “A Hint of Hype, A Taste of Illusion” back on November 20, 2009. It’s quite interesting.

He first summarizes some past contretemps concerning wine fraud and wine tastings, which have had the cumulative effect of raising the question of just how legitimate wine ratings and descriptions are. For example, a study published in the Journal of Experimental Psychology demonstrated that even the experts can’t identify more than three or four flavor characteristics in wine, yet one finds far more in many descriptions. A Silverado Cabernet Sauvignon (at $100) was described in The Wine News as having “dusty, chalky scents followed by mint, plum, tobacco, leather, and tasty cherry with smoky oak accents.” I’ll leave aside the question of just why dust, leather, and tobacco might taste good in any beverage. But The Wine Advocate described the same wine as having “promising aromas of lavender, roasted herbs, blueberries, and black currants.” This is a total of twelve flavors or “presences”, none of which clearly overlap. And what are “promising” aromas? Aromas that once upon a time had potential? “That lavender is really going to be a contender some day.” Was that potential not realized? Quelle tragédie!

Mlodinow describes some studies done by Robert Hodgson, the proprietor of Fieldbrook Winery in California. Hodgson had been curious about how a given wine from his winery would win gold in some competitions and nothing at all in others. He convinced the organizers of the California State Fair competition to allow him to conduct controlled experiments over four years. His conclusions: “The probability that a wine which won a gold medal in one competition would win nothing in others was high” and the distribution of medals “mirrors what might be expected should a gold medal be awarded by chance alone.” Mlodinow also notes a the case where an individual at a “a well-known Paso Robles winery who had conducted his own test, sending the same wine to a wine competition under three different labels. Two of the identical samples were rejected, one with the comment ‘undrinkable’. The third bottle was awarded a double gold medal.” Now, do you really think the first two “undrinkable” bottles were spoiled en route? Or had bad corks? No, not likely.

Perhaps when a critic says a wine is reminiscent of, specifically, wild raspberries, not store-bought, we should take this as simply a kind of literary license, an attempt to spruce up the language and neither he nor we should take it seriously. not take it literally. If we removed all the adjectives, adverbs, and similes from the great novels, would they still be great? Of course not. But the wine raters give every impression that they’re completely serious about their descriptions, and they intend those descriptions to guide consumers. They aren’t writing literature; they’re writing what they contend are at least somewhat objective analyses of the liquid in question. If they think otherwise, then it’s all just a joke among the cognoscenti.

Similarly, perhaps we shouldn’t take too seriously the awarding of 92 points for a particular bottling. All that apparently means is that that critic really liked that wine at that specific moment in time. We might be able to conclude that the wine isn’t best used for cleaning toilet bowls, but that’s about all. Even then, another critic or judge, as the evidence demonstrates, may give the same wine only 80. But if it’s this variable and unpredictable among the experts (the problem of intercoder reliability in social science jargon), why should the whole point business matter to us as ordinary wine drinkers?

As for me personally, I’ve been drinking and enjoying wine for well over forty years, but even if my financial wherewithal had permitted the serious pursuit of wine collection and investment, I’ve always been reluctant to put a great deal of money into something which one only “rents” for a few hours. Perhaps more accurately, my wife and I are more comfortable spending on food than on wine. (Yes, I could pursue the “rent” imagery, but I won’t.) Occasionally, more like rarely, I’ll splurge on a real French premier cru Chablis or on a $40 bottle of real champagne, but the bottles reposing in our 35 bottle wine rack right now are in the $6 to $15 range. I suspect this is the range into which many people’s wine purchases fall. So based on this experience and on these tastes, here is what I suggest when it comes to how one might approach the business of ratings, label descriptions, and price.

First, ignore the ratings. Sometimes in wine shops and liquor stores there’ll be a small handwritten tag under some wines showing someone’s point rating of it. Ignore these little signs. Also ignore any indications of medal awards.

Experiment. Here’s an example: Buy a bottle of three-buck Chuck Chardonnay and a bottle of three-buck Chuck Cabernet. These are, of course, the wines available at Trader Joe’s. If there’s no TJ’s where you are, buy something in the $4 to $5 range. Now purchase four additional bottles of the same varietal (a Chardonnay and a Cabernet), one pair for around $10 or $11 and the third pair for $20 to $30. Do a blind tasting with friends. Look up on the web how to do this properly. Have everyone take some notes. Nothing at all formal or structured, just impressions and, of course, whether they like it and how much. If one happens to detect an apple flavor component, that’s fine.

I’m guessing that most people will be able to accurately distinguish the lowest priced wines from the highest priced. That isn’t to say they’ll all prefer the highest priced, but most, I think, will. There are unmistakable differences between three-buck Chuck Chardonnay and a $30 Sonoma-Cutrer Russian River Chardonnay. Whether the individual is willing to pay for the highest priced is a separate question, of course.

Tasting parties such as this will accomplish the following: You will liberate yourselves from the judgments of the experts; you’ll educate yourselves on the differences among wines, even among wines of the same grape; in time, you’ll be a better informed consumer; and it’ll be fun. All of this without the highly questionable “guidance” of the self-claimed experts.

De gustibus non disputandum est . . . usually.

Pasta with kale and hazelnut pesto

2011-02-15T17:13:00.001-06:00

The photograph isn’t particularly mouth-watering, but you don’t eat the photo; you eat what’s in the photo, and I think that passes the taste test rather nicely.

There are many variations on the classic pesto which uses pine nuts, basil, and cheese, and this is one of them. This is the season for nice greens, which aren’t paired with pasta as often as I think they could be. Either kale or mustard is good here, although for a bit less bite, you could use chard or collards. I suggest not using spinach because it would cook down to almost nothingness in this recipe and wouldn’t produce as much “presence” as the heartier greens.

If it’s at all possible for you to use walnut, almond, or hazelnut oil instead of olive, please do so. It adds quite a lot to the pesto. Do not, by the way, be tempted to use sesame oil. That’s a whole different commodity which wouldn’t work in this recipe.

Hazelnuts, 1/2 c

Garlic, 1 clove

Parsley, 1/2 c

Fresh oregano leaves, 2 Tbs

Extra virgin olive oil or nut oil, 1/2 c

Salt and pepper

Kale or mustard greens, a rather large bunch

Olive oil, 1 Tbs

Beef stock or broth, 1+ cup

Shallot, 1 chopped

Pepper

Pasta, 8 oz.

Red chile flakes

Toast the nuts and place in a blender or processor along with the garlic, parsley, oregano, and oil and mince. Add the salt and pepper. Set this aside.

Trim the leaves of the greens from the stems, keeping the former and discarding the latter. Finely chop the leaves. Heat the olive oil in a pot large enough to accommodate the greens, then add the shallot and saute briefly, then the greens. Add the broth, cover the pot, and simmer for a few minutes. Add pepper.

In the meantime, cook the pasta, drain it and return to its pot. Add the greens and broth mixture and mix. Turn out to plates, making sure some of the broth is included. Top with the hazelnut pesto. Add the chile flakes if you like a bit of a kick.

This recipe makes two to three servings.

Chicken and hominy chile

2011-02-09T13:17:00.001-06:00

For those of us living in The Land of 11,842 Lakes of Ten Acres or More (the official Department of Natural Resources count), virtually all of which are quite frozen at this time, this preparation might be regarded as a sort of warming tonic. Then again, I see no reason why this can’t be enjoyed on a hot summer day as well . . . as long as it’s consumed in a nicely air conditioned venue.

There is no shortage of chicken chili recipes, as any search on the web will demonstrate. Although I’ve added my own improvisations here, I’ll claim only that it hit the spot for my wife and me . . . whatever and wherever that spot is.

Notwithstanding the relatively lengthy list of ingredients, the recipe is easy and pretty quickly prepared. I do think that the final product is likely to have a discernibly superior taste with the ingredients listed rather than with the substitutes you will find below, but only a side-by-side blind taste test would provide an answer.

2 or 3 boneless and skinless chicken breasts, cut in 3/4” chunks

Salt and pepper

Olive oil, 2 Tbs

White onion, large, chopped

1-2 fresh jalapeno chiles, seeds and veins removed if you like, and chopped

1 fresh Anaheim chile (aka California chile)

Garlic, 2 cloves, minced

Pasilla powder, 1 Tbs

Mexican oregano, dried, 1 tsp

Ground cumin, 2 tsp

2 15 oz cans white or yellow hominy or a combination, drained and rinsed

1 can tomato and green chiles (such as Ro-Tel brand), drained

1 14 oz can chicken broth

2 cups light cream

Masa harina, 2 rounded Tbs

Pepper jack cheese, 8 oz or thereabouts, shredded

Cilantro, chopped

Lime wedges

Tortilla chips

Here are some substitutions: For the fresh Anaheim chile, a can of green chiles may be substituted. For the pasilla powder, the stuff marketed as “chile powder’ may be substituted. Mexican oregano bears a family resemblance to Mediterranean oregano, but is different. Still, the latter may be substituted. Masa harina is a Mexican flour made from dried corn (maize) which has been treated with lime. This is what is traditionally used to make tortillas and tamales. There is no substitute for these purposes, but if you don’t want to purchase a 2 kg bag of it for the 2 tablespoons in this recipe, toast a few corn tortillas and finely crumble them into the mixture at the appointed time.

Blacken the skin of the Anaheim chile either under a broiler or over a gas burner. When it’s nicely charred, put it in a plastic zip-loc bag and allow it to steam for 10 minutes or so. Then split it, remove the seeds and the stem, and mince. There is no need to remove the charred bits.

Salt and pepper the chicken chunks, heat the 1 Tbs of the oil, and saute until they just begin to brown. No need to cook them completely. Remove and reserve. In the same pan, heat the other tablespoon of oil and add the onion and jalapenos. Saute for 2 or 3 minutes. Add the spices and cook another minute, stirring. Add the broth, the cream, and the chicken. Bring it to a low boil and stir in the masa (or the crumbled tortillas). Stir for a couple of minutes. Now the drained tomatoes and chiles as well as the cilantro. Cover and simmer over low heat for several minutes. The masa should produce a thickening stew, although it won’t be as thick as if you had added ordinary flour. The purpose of the masa is to add a bit of body and taste.

Serve in bowls and sprinkle the cheese atop. I found that tortilla chips (the type is your choice) are pretty tasty dipped into the stew.

Pasta with langoustines, blue cheese, and green peppercorns

2011-01-17T14:50:00.002-06:00

This is a rather commonplace recipe, but with a twist. It’s also easy and quick, particularly if you already have the main ingredient which is frozen langoustines or crayfish. They’re available at Trader Joe’s (perhaps elsewhere, too), and they’re already cooked. In a pinch, cooked small shrimp would suffice. Yes, you could use uncooked shellfish, but then that would reduce the convenience factor, wouldn’t it?

Use fresh pasta, which is available in the refrigerated section of most grocery stores. Buitoni is one brand. Fresh is purported to absorb sauces better than dried pastas, although I suspect the difference to the palate is minimal, so use dried if you like.

So what’s the twist? I think what raises this concoction above an already tasty but quotidian combination of shellfish, cream, and pasta is the addition of a small amount of blue cheese and some green peppercorns. Together, these two ingredients contribute a pleasant - what might be the word here? - “sharpness” to the finished product. The finished dish won't transport you to culinary nirvana, but it will be more interesting.

Green peppercorns are simply ordinary peppercorns which haven’t been allowed to ripen (turn dark). One could say they were allowed to attain only early adolescence before their lives were snuffed out for the pleasure of humans. They are available in jars with brine in larger grocery stores, usually in the vicinity of capers and other sorts of pickled things. One might also find them in dried form in the spices and herbs section. The latter will last longer than the former once the former is opened, but brined have more flavor which, in volume, can be rather overpowering. The tablespoon in the recipe is about right to me, though. Always rinse the brined peppercorns.

As for which of the many varieties of blue cheese to use, that’s entirely up to you. It’s only a tablespoon, so I don’t think it matters. The point is only to make itself known to the palate in a very subtle way. My wife isn’t a big fan of blue cheese, but she said she could taste its presence, but it wasn’t at all assertive. She liked it.

Fresh pasta (linguine or fettuccine), 8 to 10 oz

Butter, 1 or 2 Tbs

Shallots, 1 large, finely chopped

Heavy cream, 1 cup

Green peppercorns, 1 Tbs in brine (and rinsed) or 2 tsp dried

Blue cheese, 1 Tbs

A hard cheese such as Asiago, Grana Padano, or Romano, 1/2 cup grated

Cooked langoustines (or crayfish), 8 oz or so

Basil, several leaves

Salt

White pepper

Assuming the langoustines or crayfish are frozen, put them in a microwavable container and thaw, taking care not to re-cook them since they’re already cooked. You just want to make sure they’re not frozen solid when they’re added to the sauce. If any liquid accumulates, keep it.

Melt 1 or 2 tablespoons of butter in a saucepan and briefly saute the shallots. Over low heat, add the cream and the green peppercorns. The dried variety is fine, too. In either case, add to the cream and shallot mixture. Now add the blue cheese and stir until it’s melted. Toss in the grated hard cheese. Add the shellfish and their liquid and simmer until all the cheese is melted and the sauce is smooth. Add some salt and ground white pepper.

Cook the pasta. If you have fresh pasta, it’ll take five minutes or less. (Consult the instructions.) When it’s done, keep 2 tablespoons of the cooking water.

Toss the slivered basil leaves into the cream mixture, keeping some whole ones for garnish. Drain the pasta, add the sauce, stir, and deliver to the serving plates. If you would like a thinner sauce, add the reserved pasta cooking liquid. Remember the basil garnish.

Tuna in grape leaves with anchovy sauce

2010-12-26T15:15:00.002-06:00

This is a combination and variation of a recipe I saved from a 1988 issue of Bon Appetit magazine and of a restaurant preparation I had about ten or fifteen years ago. The Bon Appetit recipe involved wrapping chard leaves around tuna. The restaurant was a Mediterranean-themed venue called Spazzo in Bellevue, a Seattle suburb. I don’t think the fish was tuna, but it was wrapped with grape leaves and, if I recall correctly, flamed with ouzo. So I decided to meld parts of each recipe and add a couple of twists of my own. I thought the result might be at least slightly unusual this side of Italy or Greece. Then I did a search on the web for “fish wrapped in grape leaves”. So much for even slightly unusual. There are about a billion such recipes. Maybe a trillion.

There are two potential pitfalls in preparing this dish. One is to avoid burning the hell out of the grape leaves, and the other is determining when the fish is done since it’s covered with the leaves. As most people know, overcooking tuna turns the fish rather tough and much less appetizing. So how to avoid these difficulties? In short, watching it carefully and violating its corporeal integrity by cutting into it to observe its state of doneness. Something else I suggest is searing the first side over fairly high heat, then turning the fish and reducing the heat to medium or medium low.

As for the type of tuna you see in the photo, to be honest, I don’t recall with any certainty, but I think it was albacore. Not sure. I know it wasn’t “chicken of the sea”, though. The vegetable accompaniment is thinly sliced small potatoes, yellow squash, and carrots, sautéed.

Getting the leaves out of the jar is a pain in the derrière. I always manage to destroy some of them in the process of prying them out. No great loss, though, since I never need so many, even when I make domades. Still, I’m mounting a nationwide campaign to pressure the producers to not pack as many in the jars. Are you with me? No violence, please.

Try to find sumac and/or ajwain. Both add a certain je ne sais quoi to the preparation. If your search is unsuccessful, use dried thyme instead.

Tuna steaks, 2, 6 oz or so each

A container of grape leaves in brine

Sumac, 1-2 tsp

Ajwain, 1-2 tsp or

Dried thyme, 1-2 tsp

Olive oil, 1 Tbs

Lemon or lime juice

Salt

Pepper

Olive oil, 6 Tbs

Shallots, 2, minced

Garlic, 1-2 tsp, minced

Anchovy fillets, as many as you like, minced or reduced to a paste

Lemon or lime juice, 3 Tbs

Capers, preferably packed in salt; in brine is acceptable, but rinse in both cases.

Ground pepper

Remove the grape leaves from the bottle, keep (for two tuna steaks) ten or so of the larger ones, and dry them. Yes, you will waste the rest of them unless you make domades or something else requiring grape leaves. So what? If our consumer habits in this country didn’t involve a huge amount of waste, our economy would be in even worse shape.

Scatter the sumac-ajwain (or thyme) mixture on both sides of the tuna. Now wrap the tuna steaks in the leaves, securing with toothpicks on the sides. Heat the olive oil in a non-stick skillet or a skillet on which you’ve sprayed some non-stick stuff. On high heat, sear one side of the steaks, then lower the heat to medium or medium low. In a couple of minutes, cut discreetly through one of the steaks to test doneness. This will not take long at all. When there’s still some pink, squeeze the lemon or lime juice over them and add some salt and black pepper. Remove from the heat.

In the same pan, add the 6 tablespoons of olive oil, and sauté the shallots, garlic, and anchovies for a couple of minutes. Squeeze the lemon or lime juice into the pan.

Put the steaks on plates, pour over the shallot-anchovy sauce, and scatter the capers about. Garnish with parsley if you like. Don’t eat the toothpicks.

Shrimp pot stickers

2010-12-16T14:15:00.003-06:00

This recipe is a variation of one found in Hugh Carpenter, Pacific Flavors: Oriental Recipes for a Contemporary Kitchen (New York: Stewart, Tabori, & Chang, 1988). I purchased the book shortly after its publication way back then and have made many of its recipes, all unfailingly good. He also wrote two others which are similarly formatted and beautifully photographed by Teri Sanderson: Chopstix: Quick Cooking with Pacific Flavors (1990), and Fusion Food Cookbook (1994). I assume they’re out of print, but if you can find any of them, you won’t regret a purchase.

If you haven’t tried your hand at making wontons or pot stickers at home, here’s an opportunity. Of course, you’re not actually making the wrappers. If you want to try that, look up a recipe on the web and have a go at it. I’m not that inclined toward unnecessary labor-intensive work - either in the kitchen or in any other human endeavor. Store-bought will be fine. As is the case with many such recipes, you should feel free to switch some ingredients, such as scallops for the shrimp, or spinach for the bok choi greens.

Baby bok choi greens from one bunch, trimmed; reserve the harder white parts

Scallions, 4, chopped

Gingerroot, 2 tsp, minced

Orange zest, 1/2 tsp

Egg, 1

Soy sauce, 1 Tbs

An Asian chili sauce such as Sriracha

Salt, 1/2 tsp

Shrimp, 8 oz, peeled and deveined

A package of wonton or sui mai (pronounced “shoe my”) skins

Canola or peanut oil

Clam or shrimp broth, 1 c, or chicken broth if necessary

Chinese rice wine or dry sherry, 4 Tbs

Chinese plum sauce, 1 Tbs

Hoisin sauce, 1 Tbs

Orange or tangerine juice, 1 c

Asian chili sauce to taste; suggest 1 tsp

Sugar, 1 tsp

Bok choi stems, chopped

Canola or peanut oil

Soy sauce, 1 tsp

Hoisin sauce, 1 tsp

Microwave the bok choi leaves very briefly. The idea here is to reduce their volume. Drain off any exuded water. Toss the leaves and the next seven ingredients into a food processor and puree. Now put in the shrimp and chop, leaving some small whole pieces of shrimp. Although it would fall short of tragedy, it’s best not to reduce the shrimp to a puree.

If you’ve purchased wonton wrappers, they’ll be square. Using a cookie cutter, make them round. Sui mai wrappers are already round - at least all that I’ve purchased are round. On a surface which you’ve dusted with cornstarch, set out some of the wrappers with a bowl of water nearby. Place a teaspoon or two on the bottom half of each wrapper. Moisten the edges with water. Fold over and seal with the tines of fork or with your fingers. If you’ve never done this before, it might take a bit of practice, but as long as you accept the fact that some of the filling will squirt out as a result of having put too much of it on the wrapper or as a result of your sloppiness, it’ll be fine. You’ll get better at it and you’ll have plenty to eat. Keep filling the wrappers until you’ve exhausted the filling or until you’re tired of doing it. I don’t think I’ve ever used all the filling in recipes such as this. At some point, I just say to hell with it; that’s enough. Place completed wrappers on a parchment-lined cookie sheet to await cooking. If you’re not proceeding to the cooking stage right away, put plastic wrap over them to retard drying out.

In the meantime, mix all the sauce ingredients.

Before you cook the pot stickers, chop the stems of the bok choi. Heat some oil in a saucepan, throw in the stems, add the soy and hoisin and toss for a couple of minutes. Serve alongside the potstickers, as you see in the photograph.

Now it’s time to brown the bottoms of the pot stickers. Heat some canola, peanut or other vegetable oil in, preferably, a non-stick saute pan. Alternatively, spray some non-stick cooking spray in the pan, heat, and put in the oil. (You’ll actually need two pans. I suggest you cook a reasonable portion of them and set them aside for left-overs on a later day. They freeze pretty well. Then, cook those you think you’ll eat at dinner.)

When the oil is hot, place the pot stickers in the pan(s), shaking them to prevent sticking. After a half minute or a minute (maybe a bit longer depending on the heat), check the bottom of one to see that it’s browned. If it has, now pour in the sauce, turn down the heat to medium low and cover the pan(s). They should all be done and the filling cooked and firmed up within two minutes. You don’t want the sauce to boil away, leaving nothing with which to coat the plated pot stickers.

I don’t mention the addition of salt in this recipe. A number of Asian ingredients such as soy sauce and hoisin are already salty. It’s easier to add salt to a dish than it is to remove it, so it’s up to you.

Salmon with cabbage and apple cider

2010-11-22T16:42:00.008-06:00

This seems rather autumn-like due the combination of cabbage, apples, and apple cider, and, sure enough, I write this in late November, which looks more like winter here in the Twin Cities area. It probably looks different in, say, Houston. Less white. I’m guessing this preparation would taste exactly the same in July, though. It’s easy and tasty.

Salmon filet, 12-14 oz, skin removed

Green cabbage, 2 quarters of a small to medium head

Bacon, prosciutto, or pancetta, 3-4 oz.

Apple cider (not apple juice), 1 cup

Onions or shallots, 1/2 cup, minced

Butter

Apple, 1/2, sliced

Salt and pepper

Steam the cabbage. This is a far superior method to boiling it, which fills its layers with water which isn’t easy to drain, and causes the cabbage to lose its corporeal integrity; i.e., fall apart. Microwaving is also better than boiling. Hell, anything is better than boiling cabbage. I’ve used ordinary green cabbage, but Savoy cabbage is a good alternative.

Chop your choice of cured pig variety and sautè it. If you select prosciutto, you may need to add some butter since it typically has little fat. When it’s browned, remove to another container, while keeping a tablespoon of fat in the pan.

Salt and pepper the salmon fillet(s) and sautè them in the same pan over medium-high heat, adding a bit of butter. Toss in the minced shallot or onion. This shouldn’t take longer than two or three minutes a side. Do not overcook, particularly since they’ll be covered and will rest briefly before serving. When they’re done, remove and cover with foil.

Now, in the same pan still, carefully pour in the apple cider. I’ll repeat my request that you not use the largely tasteless apple juice. There’s a big difference. Place the apple slices in the pan and turn up the heat to reduce the cider just a bit. Salt and pepper if you like, but be careful because the pig product is already salty.

Do you want prices with those specials? And what was number four again?

2010-11-16T11:48:00.002-06:00

I’ve noticed in recent months - maybe longer - that food-oriented web sites and other types of media like to compile lists of all sorts of things have including annoying restaurant practices. For example, high wine prices seem to be almost always mentioned, although I have some sympathy for the restaurateurs here . . . up to a point. Another type of list consists of annoying practices by wait staff, countered by other lists of annoying diner practices. So who throws the first stone? Well, that question can’t be answered since the stones have been flying for some time now, and I’m tossing yet another one, while acknowledging that others have tossed the same object, or at least aimed at the same target.

Here it is: I’m going to reference the specific restaurant, but only because a group of four of us dined there on a recent Friday evening (12 November), and it was the most egregious example of this particular type of annoyance. But guilty restaurants can be found almost anywhere. The restaurant is La Grolla in St Paul Minnesota, and the offense is reciting off-the-menu specials without indicating the prices. On this particular occasion, the offense was compounded by the large number of specials - eight, if I (and my wife) recall correctly.

I’ve always assumed that wait staff aren’t unilaterally neglecting to tell customers what they will pay; rather, that they’re simply following orders from management, and I still assume this. Ergo, blame must be assigned to management, so most of the following criticism goes in that direction, not to our particular server . . . most.

There were four of us. When time came to order solid food, our server said, “We have many specials tonight,” and he commenced to recite them, with, as usual, no mention of prices. As he finished with the description of the fourth or fifth one, my wife (to whom this is an annoyance as well) interrupted and asked the price for the last mentioned, which he provided. Oddly, though, even after having been asked, midway, the price of one the specials, he simply proceeded with his descriptions, failing to note the prices of the remaining ones. Was he simply on autopilot and he just couldn’t force himself to interrupt the descriptions with their prices? After my wife asked the price of one of them, why didn’t something click in head? Something to the effect of, “Hmm, these people might be interested in the prices.” (Parenthetically, he was friendly and efficient throughout the meal.)

The final two specials sounded particularly appetizing to me, so I asked about their prices. Of course, he then told me those two prices, and I suppose we all should have applauded him for his remarkable memory. Is that what this is all about? A kind of memory contest to impress the clientele? If so, it just might have the opposite effect: On some of those lists of annoying server habits, one finds diner anxiety that results from the server not writing down any orders. Another member of our group thought she knew which special she wanted, but she couldn’t recall the name of the pasta (it was an unusual one), so when the server returned to our table to take our orders, she had to tell him, “I think I want the one that begins with an s,” and asked him to repeat the description.

All right, as I noted at the outset, this sort of “temporary price secrecy” is commonplace, but it isn’t required by the US Constitution, state constitutions, or any federal, state, or local laws, rules, or regulations. This means the practice can be effortlessly eliminated.

In the case of La Grolla, there were eight specials. Many restaurants have a reasonable one or two or three. How can any customer be expected to remember eight? Some diners, no doubt, immediately eliminate some of the specials as soon as they hear them, but if there are, say, two or three or four which are possibilities, this still requires a very good memory for many people, particularly if, as is usually the case, the restaurant’s decibel level is anywhere from rather loud to hellishly loud and one might be straining to hear the recitation in the first place.

Let’s digress just a bit here and speculate that managers who condone and even insist on this practice don’t see it a possible irritant to the people who are paying their bills. Rather, they assume that diners will simply ask the prices of those specials which they are considering for consumption on that evening. Why would they ask the prices for specials they don’t like, are allergic to, would violate their antivivisectionist or quasi-religious principles, etc? So management is doing them a favor by not taxing their brains unnecessarily. The problem with that explanation is that sometimes diners need the prices of (almost) all of the specials because their final decision may well involve a balance between price and preparation. Maybe a diner will select Special #3 instead of Special #5 even though she thinks she might like 5 better, but 5 is much more expensive than 3. What if the diner likes the descriptions of all of them (as I did, to the extent I could hear them all)? One needs both pieces of information. What if, particularly when there are more than, say, three or four specials, a customer may not recall the description or name of the first one mentioned? In other words, it’s hard to believe managers’ thought processes run along this line.

Somebody please tell me the reason.

So is this little missive all criticism and no solution? If only just some of the world’s problems were so easy and (almost) cost-free to solve! Let this solution be disseminated throughout the land, and let there be pleasantness and good will follow!

All restaurants have to do is use an ordinary desk jet printer and print the specials, along with a reasonable description of them and their prices. This “Today’s Specials” list, frequently termed “Fresh Sheet”, as most know, would be on ordinary paper stock and free of embellishment; in other words, cheap and quickly produced. This is not revolutionary. At the time the wait staff would ordinarily launch into their verbal descriptions, they would distribute these and inform diners that s/he will be back to answer any questions. The server can still be free to briefly point one or two which are noteworthy.

Why is this not done? Everyone gains. Patrons don’t have to tax their memories. They see the prices. They don’t have to ask the server to describe again “that pasta special that starts with an s”. Diners have more time to contemplate their choices. The cost to the restaurant of printing the specials is miniscule. The server is spared the possibility (which I’ve seen a number of times) of forgetting or not remembering correctly the specials.

I rest my case.

Yet another baked artichoke dip

2010-11-12T15:45:00.000-06:00

What could possibly serve as an excuse for offering another recipe for what is quite possibly the most ubiquitous appetizer on restaurant menus? I’m surprised McDonald’s hasn’t come up with variation of it. Hmmm, imagine it: They could just make it rather thick so it wouldn’t squirt out the sides and slather it between the top and bottom of a hamburger bun. Call it “McChokes”. You saw it here first, and it’s now public, so when they actually market it, I’ll be calling for my share of the profits.

I don’t claim this version constitutes a “quantum” leap unless you use the word “quantum” in the correct sense which means the smallest discrete part of a physical entity. With the exception of physicists, people almost always use the term quantum leap to mean an enormous advancement of some kind; in other words, big, not small. It can mean a sudden change, though, but neither do I claim the property of suddenness for this recipe.

All right, enough of that. I think what makes this version rather tasty is the Boursin cheese (which comes in different flavors) and the marjoram. And as Forrest Gump said in a different context, “That’s all I have to say about that.”

There is no photo, not only because I haven’t made it recently but because everyone can easily conceptualize its appearance.

3 oz. Boursin cheese

3 oz. Parmesan, Romano, or Asiago cheese, grated

3 Tbs mayonnaise

3 Tbs sour cream

1/2 tsp dried marjoram

1/2 tsp black pepper

1/2 tsp onion salt

1/4 tsp garlic powder

1 14 oz. can artichoke hearts, packed in water, well-drained, and squeezed to remove any remaining water

Paprika

Put everything except for a couple of tablespoons of the hard cheeses in a food processor and process, taking care not to puree the mixture; it should be a bit rough. Prepare an oven-proof ramekin or serving dish with non-stick spray and fill with the mixture. Scatter the reserved cheese over the top and sprinkle with some paprika. Bake in a preheated 375 degree oven for around 20 minutes or until it’s bubbly and the cheese on top has browned.

Note: Do not under any circumstances use the unrefrigerated “parmesan” cheese found in those green cylinders near the pasta. It’s crap. Get a wedge of the cheese - no, it doesn’t have to be from Italy - and grate what you need.

Mushroom agnolotti

2010-10-30T13:51:00.002-05:00

The idea here is that you purchase a container of fresh Buitoni wild mushroom agnolotti. (No, I’m not getting paid by this company.) Fresh, as opposed to frozen, pasta products are typically found in the refrigerated section containing bagels, English muffins, and sometimes tortillas. But not always. Some of these pasta products are pretty good, and I think this is one of them. Others such as ravioli stuffed allegedly with spinach, four different types of cheese, chicken, and so on challenge the eater to taste any of them.

So, buy this product and take it home and refrigerate or freeze it. You’ll use it another day, that day being a day when you don’t feel like actually making a full-blown dinner, but neither do want to go out to a restaurant, and you don’t want take-out. And, discouragingly, whatever you can find in the back of your refrigerator shelves has transmogrified into unrecognizable slime, has an expiration date dating to the second Shrub administration, or has produced mold (excluding blue cheese, of course). This recipe, then, is for those occasions because (a) it tastes good and (b) it’s easy. ‘Nuff say.

Buitoni Mushroom agnolotti, 9 oz package, serves two people

Dried mushrooms, soaked in port

Butter, 1 or 2 Tbs

Heavy or light cream, 1 cup

Sour cream, 1/4 cup or more

Dijon mustard, 1 Tbs

Shallot, 1 or 2, minced

Salt and pepper

I used Argentinian dried mushrooms, which I’ve seen nowhere besides the Greek shop where I purchased them. I suggest you use any of the heartier or meatier dried mushrooms such as shiitakes or portobellos. Oyster mushrooms are too “light”. If necessary, fresh mushrooms can be used. Just cook them until browned.

Rehydrate the mushrooms by putting them a bowl and covering with port, a port and water mixture, or Madeira. Dry sherry would be a satisfactory alternative. Leave it for a couple of hours or until soft. Remove the mushrooms, squeeze them to remove as mush moisture as you can, retaining a couple of tablespoons of the liquid. Chop the mushrooms.

Heat the butter in a pan and add the mushrooms. Sauté over medium heat until soft, then add the shallots, and sauté for a couple of minutes. Now add the reserved port or Madeira and cook for a minute or so. Put the heavy or light cream, the sour cream, the mustard, and the salt and pepper in the pan and keep warm.

In the meantime, you will have cooked the pasta, which takes a very few minutes. See the package for more precision.

Drain the pasta, keeping some of the cooking water if you need a thinner sauce. Return to the pot used to cook the pasta, add the mushroom mixture, and stir to combine.

The greenery in the photograph is parsley.

Scallops with maftoul and Romesco sauce

2010-10-21T10:08:00.002-05:00

Scallops are among my favorite edible aquatic animals. In fact, they’re among my favorite edibles, period. I’ve prepared them umpteen different ways over four-plus decades. Regrettably, they’re expensive. The consumer has choices, though, in terms of just how much to spend on them. (I’m referring here to sea scallops, not to bay scallops and certainly not to calico scallops which are frequently and fraudulently sold as bay scallops.) To overgeneralize just a bit, you may pay $20 or more for a pound or you may pay around $10 or $15 a pound. I made a scallop dish recently with frozen $14 a pound scallops labeled “dry” scallops. It was edible but quite unsatisfactory because the scallops were wet, not dry, with the result being that they refused to brown, choosing instead to spend their time in the pan releasing all kinds of liquids. So we have a case of incorrect labeling here, perhaps a product of ignorance or perhaps deliberately. In this case, one gets what one pays for.

After all these years I’ve reached a firm conclusion. Some might say, “Well, it’s about time. How many decades did you say you’ve been cooking scallops?” Belatedly or not, here it is: If you want to prepare a scallop dish wherein they remain whole and are the focus of the dish, buy fresh, dry scallops. It’ll cost roughly the equivalent of filet mignon, which, for most of us, means it’ll be a relatively rare treat. Scallops, though, are, oddly, quite rich, so two people don’t need a whole pound. So, go to a good grocery store or fish market with a service counter staffed not by a kid born any time within the past twenty years or so who would’ve been back in the stock room trimming lettuce if the regular lettuce trimmer had showed up for work.

Now about those terms “wet” and “dry”. I’ve explained this elsewhere on this blog, but I don’t expect you to go searching for it, so here it is again. Wet scallops are treated with a phosphate preservative to extend the shelf life of the product. Problem is, the scallop absorbs this stuff only to release it in the form of excess liquid when it’s subjected to heat, thereby preventing browning. They steam instead, so there’s no brown, crusty scallop. Plus, they simply don’t taste as good as dry scallops which are not so treated. Never, never - knowingly - buy wet scallops. I’ve found that previously frozen dry scallops are fine, though. For more interesting information on this delectable morsel, take a look at this web site: http://www.sallybernstein.com/food/columns/harlow/sea-scallops.htm

This recipe involves “maftoul” as Lebanese, Syrians, and Palestinians call it. Israeli couscous is another term for it. It’s couscous, which is very small pasta, but it’s larger than more ordinary and commonplace couscous, and it has a nuttier, more solid, taste. It’s well worth seeking out. Romesco sauce originates in the Catalan region of Spain and usually involves nuts, olive oil, garlic, and red pepper in the form of pimientos or red bell peppers. There are many variations, of which mine is one. The whole thing comes together pretty nicely in this recipe, I think . . . as long as you don’t get wet scallops, that is.

Sea scallops, about 8 for two people

Butter, 1 Tbs

Olive oil, 1 Tbs

Maftoul (aka Lebanese or Israeli couscous), 1 cup

Basil, several leaves

Almonds, blanched, or walnuts, 1/4 cup

Pimientos, one 2 oz jar, undrained

Sun-dried tomatoes, several

Paprika, 1 Tbs

Olive oil, 1/2 c

Red wine vinegar, 1/4 c

Salt and pepper

Toast the nuts by putting them in a small pan over medium heat, watching them carefully because they burn quickly. As soon as you smell them and/or see them beginning to brown, remove them.

Place the almonds and the next 6 ingredients in a food processor and puree.

Cook the maftoul according to package instructions. Keep warm.

Warm the Romesco sauce.

Now it’s time for the scallops. Salt and pepper them. In a saute pan over medium high, heat the butter and olive oil. Just as the butter-oil begins to brown, put in the scallops. Do not toss them about. This isn’t stir-fry. Leave them to brown on the first side, checking after a minute or so. If they aren’t browned, leave them a few more seconds. Then turn them and repeat the process. When they’re done, remove them immediately to another plate. Remember: “Tis far better to undercook scallops than overcook. Verily, tis an abomination and an affront to all that is Right and Good to overcook scallops.” (Russ 6:14)

Combine the warmed maftoul and the warmed Romesco sauce and distribute it among the serving plates. Place the scallops atop, and scatter about some shredded basis leaves.

Sea bass teriyaki

2010-10-18T16:49:00.005-05:00

Back when we lived in Washington state, we would occasionally drive to the southwest coast principally to dine at The Ark. This was back in the 1980s and 90s. The setting of this restaurant was picturesquely classic: Fishing boats bobbing on the water of the inlet on which the restaurant was located, huge piles of shucked oyster shells, gulls and herons flying about. And the restaurant itself with its weather-beaten exterior and an inviting very casual interior which belied its excellent cuisine which had garnered high praise from James Beard. We never had anything but excellent meals there and even now, after many years, the memories of those trips and those meals are very pleasant.

So it sounds like the following recipe must be taken from The Ark. No, I started out thinking about making one of their preparations called Sturgeon Szechuan, but for one reason or another - not least the unavailability of sturgeon in the Twin Cities area - it morphed into what you see here, which bears only a resemblance to The Ark recipe. As we’re now surrounded by formulaic, corporate, consultant designed restaurants, I just wanted to pay homage to a one-of-a-kind restaurant which is, alas, no more. It closed a few years ago, but if you can find them, three cookbooks which the owner-chefs published afford a way to recapture their food. All are by Jimella Lucas and Nanci Main: The Ark: Cuisine of the Pacific Northwest (Ladysmith Limited Publishers, 1983), Bay and Ocean (Ladysmith Limited Publishers, 1986), and The New Ark Cookbook (Chronicle Cookbooks, 1990).

Sea bass or other white, firm-fleshed fish such as halibut, 10-12 oz, skin removed

The teriyaki sauce:

Garlic, 2 tsp minced

Ginger, 2 tsp minced

Soy sauce, 1/2 cup

Dry sherry, 1/2 cup

Lemon juice, 2 Tbs

Brown sugar, 1/4 c

Honey, 2 Tbs

Sesame oil, 1 Tbs

Butter, 2 Tbs

Flour

Orange juice, 2 Tbs

Sake, 2 tbs

Peanuts, roasted and chopped

Cucumber, “European” style, chopped

Place the ingredients for the teriyaki sauce in a blender or food processor and puree. Set aside.

Lightly dust the sea bass with flour, shaking off any excess. Heat the sesame oil and butter over medium high. Place the fish in the pan and sauté on both sides until half done. Pour in the orange juice and sake and continue cooking. When almost done, throw in the teriyaki sauce and cook for another minute at most.

In the meantime, you will have sauteed the cucumber in a bit of butter and oil in another pan until soft and browned. Sprinkle it with salt and white pepper.

Plate the fish and pour over the teriyaki sauce. Scatter the cucumber chunks over the fish and then the chopped peanuts.