I love having people over for dinner on Saturday nights. It gives me an excuse to plan a wonderful meal, buy special ingredients, set a nice table, and cook up a storm. Spending time with the people we invite is a wonderful fringe benefit!
Dave, however, isn’t always keen on the big Saturday night dinner party – he usually ends up doing a lot of dishes. To take a little pressure off the expansiveness (and expense) of entertaining, we’ve been experimenting with inviting people over on a less demanding night of the week. We had our friend Nicole over on a Tuesday a couple of months ago. I made a simple, satisfying paella-inspired dish with a green salad and ice cream for dessert.
Last week, we decided to ask our friends Brian and Mishka over for supper on Sunday. It would be a little earlier, a little less wine-soaked, and just a little more casual than a typical Saturday night affair. We started by deep-frying zucchini flowers, something I have always wanted to do. They were fantastic – crisp and salty-sweet, with a subtle floral flavor. We ate these standing up in the kitchen and hallway. We skipped a first course and went straight to the main event – chicken marabella from the Silver Palate cookbook, tomato clafoutis, and a simply dressed green salad. For dessert I made a peach frangipane tart.
Now, I’m not saying this meal was made in an hour, of course. But, the chicken was marinated the day before, the frangipane was waiting in my freezer, and the clafoutis had about seven ingredients in it total. Rosa had a ball eating “peachy peachy” tart, the chicken was very good, and the whole evening was low-key and relaxed – a perfect way to slide into the workweek.
My fantasy is to have a Sunday supper with friends every week, but I realize that’s probably pushing it for my dish-averse husband. Maybe we’ll shoot for once a month and I’ll make sure the dishwasher is clear before I start.
Monday, August 25, 2008
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Be Nice to Arugula
This week John McCain’s campaign blasted Barack Obama as an “arugula-eater”, attempting to show how elitist and out of touch the Democrat is.
Politics aside, I feel the need to defend arugula from what was obviously meant to be a disparaging association. Arugula is one of my favorite leafy greens! It’s pleasantly peppery, healthy, and versatile. It’s the base of one of the simplest, best-tasting salads ever: baby arugula, lemon juice, olive oil and salt. Plus, it’s wonderful wilted on the stove with olive oil and salt. And it makes a beautiful garnish. What’s not to love?
Slate published an article yesterday with even more tasty arugula tidbits.
Politics aside, I feel the need to defend arugula from what was obviously meant to be a disparaging association. Arugula is one of my favorite leafy greens! It’s pleasantly peppery, healthy, and versatile. It’s the base of one of the simplest, best-tasting salads ever: baby arugula, lemon juice, olive oil and salt. Plus, it’s wonderful wilted on the stove with olive oil and salt. And it makes a beautiful garnish. What’s not to love?
Slate published an article yesterday with even more tasty arugula tidbits.
Friday, August 22, 2008
The Chicken Breast Dilemma
Lately, boneless, skinless chicken breasts have presented a dilemma for me. They’re healthy, convenient, and reasonably affordable. But darn it, they’re so tasteless. So this means that I must gussy them up, either pounding them thinner and then dressing them in a basic pan sauce or stir frying them and adding an Asian sauce.
But last night I really wanted to put them in the oven and forget about them. When I was a kid that meant rubbing the meat in olive oil and sprinkling them with salt and pepper – making the breasts a good vehicle for ingesting lean protein but not such a good vehicle for experiencing actual flavor. Plus, they were always a little too tough and chewy.
Recently I’ve seen a few recipes for chicken salad where the meat was roasted slathered in either crème fraiche or Greek-style yogurt. The dairy kept the breasts moist and tender before the kick of a salad dressing was added. Last night I decided to try a variation of that.
I had some homemade pesto in the freezer. (You could also buy prepared pesto at the grocery store.) I quickly thawed it, and stirred some into a couple of tablespoons of Greek-style yogurt. I covered the chicken in the mixture and voila – 35 minutes later we had tender chicken breasts with actual taste! Here’s the drill:
One pound boneless, skinless chicken breasts
2 TB pesto sauce
2 TB Greek-style yogurt
Salt and pepper
1. Preheat the oven to 375°.
2. Place chicken breasts in lightly oiled baking dish. Sprinkle with salt and pepper.
3. Stir together pesto and yogurt. Cover the chicken with the mixture.
4. Bake for 35 minutes or until cooked through.
Now, I am not advocating this dish as dinner party fare. But it is a simple, healthy, very tasty weeknight option. And one solution to the chicken breast dilemma. Any others, let me know…
But last night I really wanted to put them in the oven and forget about them. When I was a kid that meant rubbing the meat in olive oil and sprinkling them with salt and pepper – making the breasts a good vehicle for ingesting lean protein but not such a good vehicle for experiencing actual flavor. Plus, they were always a little too tough and chewy.
Recently I’ve seen a few recipes for chicken salad where the meat was roasted slathered in either crème fraiche or Greek-style yogurt. The dairy kept the breasts moist and tender before the kick of a salad dressing was added. Last night I decided to try a variation of that.
I had some homemade pesto in the freezer. (You could also buy prepared pesto at the grocery store.) I quickly thawed it, and stirred some into a couple of tablespoons of Greek-style yogurt. I covered the chicken in the mixture and voila – 35 minutes later we had tender chicken breasts with actual taste! Here’s the drill:
One pound boneless, skinless chicken breasts
2 TB pesto sauce
2 TB Greek-style yogurt
Salt and pepper
1. Preheat the oven to 375°.
2. Place chicken breasts in lightly oiled baking dish. Sprinkle with salt and pepper.
3. Stir together pesto and yogurt. Cover the chicken with the mixture.
4. Bake for 35 minutes or until cooked through.
Now, I am not advocating this dish as dinner party fare. But it is a simple, healthy, very tasty weeknight option. And one solution to the chicken breast dilemma. Any others, let me know…
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Definition, please
When I was home in Colorado over the weekend I made a “French” potato salad to serve with sausages and green beans for an easy summer supper. The salad was simple: I boiled small red potatoes until they were tender. After they cooled a bit I quartered them, let them soak up a bit of white wine, and dressed them in a mustard vinaigrette flecked with parsley. The potatoes were good, but I don’t think it was what my father expected when he heard the words “potato salad”. He asked, “What makes it a salad?” I said, “It has a dressing.” But, honestly, I wasn't really sure. I know you can make salads with grains, hearty vegetables, and delicate greens. There is chicken salad, egg salad, and tuna salad. But what makes a salad a salad? I resolved to find out.
As usual, Mark Bittman beat me to it. His column in today’s Times food section features rice salads. His first paragraph goes:
“In all of American cooking there is probably no term less meaningful than ‘salad.’ I’m racking my brain for a way to narrow the definition, but the best I can do is a dictionary-like ‘mixture of food, usually cold or at room temperature, with some kind of dressing.’”
I’ll buy that (although I love a warm potato salad). According to my Larousse Gastronomique, a salad is a “dish of raw, cold or warm cooked foods, usually dressed and seasoned, served as an appetizer, side dish or main course.” It then focuses on green salads, plain salads, and mixed salads with three and a half pages of recipes.
A fairly broad definition, wouldn't you say? But, I think that's what I like about it. Salads can be just about anything! They're kitchen superstars - versatile, healthy, delicious and flexible.
As usual, Mark Bittman beat me to it. His column in today’s Times food section features rice salads. His first paragraph goes:
“In all of American cooking there is probably no term less meaningful than ‘salad.’ I’m racking my brain for a way to narrow the definition, but the best I can do is a dictionary-like ‘mixture of food, usually cold or at room temperature, with some kind of dressing.’”
I’ll buy that (although I love a warm potato salad). According to my Larousse Gastronomique, a salad is a “dish of raw, cold or warm cooked foods, usually dressed and seasoned, served as an appetizer, side dish or main course.” It then focuses on green salads, plain salads, and mixed salads with three and a half pages of recipes.
A fairly broad definition, wouldn't you say? But, I think that's what I like about it. Salads can be just about anything! They're kitchen superstars - versatile, healthy, delicious and flexible.
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
The Ultimate Chocolate Chip Cookie
The lead article in the food section in today’s Times was all about crafting the ultimate chocolate chip cookie. David Leite, of Leite’s Culinaria, talked to a who’s who of New York bakers including Maury Rubin, Dorie Greenspan, and Jacques Torres. Their advice was eminently transferable to the home cook (make the dough 24-36 hours before you bake it, sprinkle the cookies with sea salt just before baking, etc.). It’s a little more ingredient intensive (using bread flour and cake flour…although wouldn’t using all-purpose balance out the gluten levels?), but the descriptions are fabulous… Even if you won’t make the cookies it’s worth reading the article. The photo alone is worth the click.
Monday, July 07, 2008
Cocktail Hour
For Dave and me, our weekends are structured by beverages. Coffee when we wake up around 7:30. Espresso with milk (hot in winter, iced in summer) around 2 or 3 PM. And then, ever since Rosa was born, cocktail hour.
At 5 o’clock Dave will ask me if I want a drink, and I invariably say yes. I justify having a cocktail, and then maybe a small glass of wine at dinner, by the fact that we NEVER go out anymore. When we didn’t have Rosa we would go to dinner on Fridays and have a drink or two. And then sometimes on Saturdays as well. Whether this excuse holds or not, cocktail hour is a bright, happy time chez Dave and Jenna.
Usually we drink Campari and soda with orange, or gin and tonic with lime. I love both, although Campari is one of the most delightful discoveries of my adult life. Lately, though, we’ve been drinking a cocktail called Gordon’s Cup, the recipe for which I found in Bon Appetit magazine a couple of months ago. It’s a gin based drink, a little sweet, a lot sour, and a bit salty. It’s heavy on the lime and infused with the refreshing flavor of cucumber. That may sound odd, a vegetable in your cocktail. But I would challenge you to add a slice of cucumber to your ice water one day. The best way I can describe it is that it tastes clean, with a slight vegetal undercurrent. Clean, clear, and cool.
Unfortunately I couldn’t find the recipe for the drink on the Bon Appetit or Epicurious websites to link to, so I am taking the liberty of reproducing it here. According to the text it comes from Comme Ça, a Los Angeles restaurant.
Gordon’s Cup
One Serving
2/3 of one small lime, cut into six wedges
2 1/2 inch think rounds of peeled cucumber
1/4 cup gin
1 1/2 TB of simple syrup (equal amounts of sugar and water heated on the stove until the sugar dissolves)
1 cup cracked ice
pinch of sea salt
Place lime and cucumber in cocktail shaker; mash with muddler or wooden spoon until lime is juiced and cucumber is pulpy. Add gin and simply syrup, then ice. Cover; shave vigorously three times. Pour contents of shaker into rocks glass. Sprinkle with salt.
I should note that it’s Dave who’s in charge of our beverages on the weekends, from coffee on forward. For someone who spends so much time in the kitchen, it’s a cozy luxury for me to be plied so lovingly and uncomplainingly with caffeine and alcohol. It’s small, but sharing drinks is one of my favorite parts of our life together.
At 5 o’clock Dave will ask me if I want a drink, and I invariably say yes. I justify having a cocktail, and then maybe a small glass of wine at dinner, by the fact that we NEVER go out anymore. When we didn’t have Rosa we would go to dinner on Fridays and have a drink or two. And then sometimes on Saturdays as well. Whether this excuse holds or not, cocktail hour is a bright, happy time chez Dave and Jenna.
Usually we drink Campari and soda with orange, or gin and tonic with lime. I love both, although Campari is one of the most delightful discoveries of my adult life. Lately, though, we’ve been drinking a cocktail called Gordon’s Cup, the recipe for which I found in Bon Appetit magazine a couple of months ago. It’s a gin based drink, a little sweet, a lot sour, and a bit salty. It’s heavy on the lime and infused with the refreshing flavor of cucumber. That may sound odd, a vegetable in your cocktail. But I would challenge you to add a slice of cucumber to your ice water one day. The best way I can describe it is that it tastes clean, with a slight vegetal undercurrent. Clean, clear, and cool.
Unfortunately I couldn’t find the recipe for the drink on the Bon Appetit or Epicurious websites to link to, so I am taking the liberty of reproducing it here. According to the text it comes from Comme Ça, a Los Angeles restaurant.
Gordon’s Cup
One Serving
2/3 of one small lime, cut into six wedges
2 1/2 inch think rounds of peeled cucumber
1/4 cup gin
1 1/2 TB of simple syrup (equal amounts of sugar and water heated on the stove until the sugar dissolves)
1 cup cracked ice
pinch of sea salt
Place lime and cucumber in cocktail shaker; mash with muddler or wooden spoon until lime is juiced and cucumber is pulpy. Add gin and simply syrup, then ice. Cover; shave vigorously three times. Pour contents of shaker into rocks glass. Sprinkle with salt.
I should note that it’s Dave who’s in charge of our beverages on the weekends, from coffee on forward. For someone who spends so much time in the kitchen, it’s a cozy luxury for me to be plied so lovingly and uncomplainingly with caffeine and alcohol. It’s small, but sharing drinks is one of my favorite parts of our life together.
Saturday, July 05, 2008
No Recipe Required
Over the past five or six years I have ripped out a few hundred recipes from the various food magazines I subscribe to (or buy on the newsstand) and the New York Times Wednesday food section. Recipes for meyer lemon gnocci, open-face plum cake, and vegetarian three-bean chili, steamed pork buns, patatas bravas, and spinach salad with warm bacon dressing (to-die-for), and many, many others.
I keep them in plastic sleeves by type – shrimp, potatoes, pork, chicken, drinks etc – in a white three-ring notebook. As of last week, the notebook’s pockets were so stuffed with jagged papers I could barely open it. Some of these recipes I come back to again and again, but I’ve never even tried most of them. Many I have forgotten about. On Wednesday I decided to get organized, and I’ve spent some time every day trimming the pages, sorting through and categorizing the recipes, and deciding which ones I really want to keep. I noticed a few themes – eight recipes for spiced nuts! – and dueling recipes for blue cheese dressing and cucumber-avocado soup. I will test those and report back on the winners.
As I was sorting, I threw out some recipes that didn’t interest me anymore. I also tossed a few for dishes that I wouldn’t need a recipe for, including arugula salad with onions, pecorino, lemon juice and olive oil.
Another recipe I am throwing away is for Chickpea Salad with Provencal Herbs and Olives from the June 2005 issue of Cooking Light. The dish still sounds lovely to me – a healthy side dish and perfect for weekday lunches. But, this is definitely one of those dishes that I don’t need a recipe for, and you probably don’t either.
The trick is to follow a simple formula – beans, an herb or herbs, onion, olive oil, acid, something briny – and mix and match the ingredients that you have on hand. Here are a few of the options:
- One can cooked beans – my favorites are chickpeas or cannellini
- Onion – Scallions and red onion are the best since you’ll be eating the salad raw. Plus they add nice color.
- Chopped garlic – optional
- Something briny – Capers or olives
- Fresh herbs – parsley, sage, thyme, basil, whatever is leftover in the fridge
- Acid – lemon juice, red wine vinegar, white wine vinegar, for example
- Olive oil
- Salt and pepper
Drain and rinse one can of beans. Put them in a medium bowl. Add chopped onions, capers/olives, and garlic if you’re using it. Sprinkle with salt and pepper. Drizzle with olive oil – start with a tablespoon or so – and about half as much acid. Stir gently and taste. Add more, oil, acid, or salt and pepper as needed. (I usually need to add more acid and salt at this point.) Once you’re satisfied with the flavors, stir in the chopped herbs.
To make this salad well, you need to use your eyes and tongue. Your eyes to measure proportions of ingredients. There’s no set ratio. If you love garlic add a lot; if you’re lukewarm on olives, use just a few or omit them altogether. Your tongue to balance the flavors. Start easy on the salt and acid. You can always add more. I usually need to taste and adjust the flavors two or three times.
And, of course, if you’re nervous about winging it the first couple of times, just use the Cooking Light recipe as a guide.
When I make the cannellini version of this salad, I often crush the beans with a fork and add tuna canned in olive oil, courtesy of a Gourmet recipe I saw years ago. It’s the only tuna salad I like.
For a bean salad with Mexican flavor I use black beans, lime juice, and cilantro – no olives or capers. Chopped avocado adds a creamy note.
Healthy, simple, inexpensive, delicious, and no recipe required.
I keep them in plastic sleeves by type – shrimp, potatoes, pork, chicken, drinks etc – in a white three-ring notebook. As of last week, the notebook’s pockets were so stuffed with jagged papers I could barely open it. Some of these recipes I come back to again and again, but I’ve never even tried most of them. Many I have forgotten about. On Wednesday I decided to get organized, and I’ve spent some time every day trimming the pages, sorting through and categorizing the recipes, and deciding which ones I really want to keep. I noticed a few themes – eight recipes for spiced nuts! – and dueling recipes for blue cheese dressing and cucumber-avocado soup. I will test those and report back on the winners.
As I was sorting, I threw out some recipes that didn’t interest me anymore. I also tossed a few for dishes that I wouldn’t need a recipe for, including arugula salad with onions, pecorino, lemon juice and olive oil.
Another recipe I am throwing away is for Chickpea Salad with Provencal Herbs and Olives from the June 2005 issue of Cooking Light. The dish still sounds lovely to me – a healthy side dish and perfect for weekday lunches. But, this is definitely one of those dishes that I don’t need a recipe for, and you probably don’t either.
The trick is to follow a simple formula – beans, an herb or herbs, onion, olive oil, acid, something briny – and mix and match the ingredients that you have on hand. Here are a few of the options:
- One can cooked beans – my favorites are chickpeas or cannellini
- Onion – Scallions and red onion are the best since you’ll be eating the salad raw. Plus they add nice color.
- Chopped garlic – optional
- Something briny – Capers or olives
- Fresh herbs – parsley, sage, thyme, basil, whatever is leftover in the fridge
- Acid – lemon juice, red wine vinegar, white wine vinegar, for example
- Olive oil
- Salt and pepper
Drain and rinse one can of beans. Put them in a medium bowl. Add chopped onions, capers/olives, and garlic if you’re using it. Sprinkle with salt and pepper. Drizzle with olive oil – start with a tablespoon or so – and about half as much acid. Stir gently and taste. Add more, oil, acid, or salt and pepper as needed. (I usually need to add more acid and salt at this point.) Once you’re satisfied with the flavors, stir in the chopped herbs.
To make this salad well, you need to use your eyes and tongue. Your eyes to measure proportions of ingredients. There’s no set ratio. If you love garlic add a lot; if you’re lukewarm on olives, use just a few or omit them altogether. Your tongue to balance the flavors. Start easy on the salt and acid. You can always add more. I usually need to taste and adjust the flavors two or three times.
And, of course, if you’re nervous about winging it the first couple of times, just use the Cooking Light recipe as a guide.
When I make the cannellini version of this salad, I often crush the beans with a fork and add tuna canned in olive oil, courtesy of a Gourmet recipe I saw years ago. It’s the only tuna salad I like.
For a bean salad with Mexican flavor I use black beans, lime juice, and cilantro – no olives or capers. Chopped avocado adds a creamy note.
Healthy, simple, inexpensive, delicious, and no recipe required.
Wednesday, July 02, 2008
My Fancy Food Show picks
My favorites at the Fancy Food Show? It’s hard to narrow down, but a few standouts include:
- A glorious, smooth, salty chunk of mozzarella di bufala from Lioni Mozzarella. Nothing radical here, just a perfect piece of cheese.
- Italian Volcano blood orange juice. A brilliant, deep red-orange color and bright, sparkling flavor. Dave and I decided that if we served this juice in the place of regular OJ in mimosas we’d have a line out the door.
- Sunland Thai ginger and red pepper peanut butter. I love peanut butter and was delighted to try several of Sunland’s varieties including banana and chocolate peanut butter. But, the biggest revelation was its savory line, especially this one with Thai flavors. As the rep said, it’s a perfect ready-made peanut sauce. Thin it out with a bit of water and serve with vegetables or chicken.
The most revolting thing we saw? Giant likenesses of Hillary Clinton, Barack Obama, and John McCain sculpted from…hummus. Sabra hummus to be exact. Fairly disgusting.
- A glorious, smooth, salty chunk of mozzarella di bufala from Lioni Mozzarella. Nothing radical here, just a perfect piece of cheese.
- Italian Volcano blood orange juice. A brilliant, deep red-orange color and bright, sparkling flavor. Dave and I decided that if we served this juice in the place of regular OJ in mimosas we’d have a line out the door.
- Sunland Thai ginger and red pepper peanut butter. I love peanut butter and was delighted to try several of Sunland’s varieties including banana and chocolate peanut butter. But, the biggest revelation was its savory line, especially this one with Thai flavors. As the rep said, it’s a perfect ready-made peanut sauce. Thin it out with a bit of water and serve with vegetables or chicken.
The most revolting thing we saw? Giant likenesses of Hillary Clinton, Barack Obama, and John McCain sculpted from…hummus. Sabra hummus to be exact. Fairly disgusting.
Monday, June 30, 2008
Fancy Food Show
For the last few weeks, every time I felt a little low all I had to do was think of three little words, and a tingle of excitement would shiver through my body. I would start to smile uncontrollably, and a bright glow of anticipation would be apparent for all to see. Fancy food show. Fancy food show. God, I love the Fancy Food Show. Imagine discovering hundreds upon hundreds of the most interesting, delicious gourmet foods out there – and when I say “discovering” I mean eating. Basically, it’s like dying and going to food heaven, if heaven were located in the thoroughly depressing Javits Center (sorry if link isn’t working… the site isn’t really worth visiting anyways.).
The Fancy Food Show is a trade show for food professionals sponsored by the National Association for the Specialty Food Trade. It takes place in New York every summer and San Francisco each winter. Food importers and manufacturers from around the world exhibit their products for chefs, grocery store owners, caterers and other food professionals to try – and hopefully buy.
Dave and I went for several hours this afternoon, and, for the record, neither of us ate lunch beforehand…and neither of us are eating dinner tonight.
Dave had never attended the Fancy Food Show before, and I warned him right away to pace himself. He got the message after walking down the first of dozens of aisles and sampling several types of cheeses and charcuterie, plus various olive oils and chocolates. In the three and a half hours we spent tasting, he cites these three products as his favorites:
- Fabrique Delices truffle mousse paté – “A perfect combination of the richness that you love in patés, but not too much. It was paté to the nth degree, but not over the cliff.”
- Numerous Peppadew products, especially the peppadew sausages and cheese-stuffed peppadew. – “Just tasty, a good combo of sweetness and spiciness. With the added cheese, the spiciness was reduced so I could appreciate the sweetness more.” For those of you who haven’t tried peppadew before, it’s a spicy-sweet South African fruit that comes in a jar.
- Mortadella…there was a good bit of mortadella around, in slices and chunks. Dave seemed to like it all.
His biggest frustration? Too much cheese and chocolate. And, it’s true – there is an enormous amount of cheese and chocolate being produced by the gourmet food world. Unlike Dave, however, I’m not one to complain.
In upcoming posts, I will highlight my three favorites and some of the more interesting products we tried.
The Fancy Food Show is a trade show for food professionals sponsored by the National Association for the Specialty Food Trade. It takes place in New York every summer and San Francisco each winter. Food importers and manufacturers from around the world exhibit their products for chefs, grocery store owners, caterers and other food professionals to try – and hopefully buy.
Dave and I went for several hours this afternoon, and, for the record, neither of us ate lunch beforehand…and neither of us are eating dinner tonight.
Dave had never attended the Fancy Food Show before, and I warned him right away to pace himself. He got the message after walking down the first of dozens of aisles and sampling several types of cheeses and charcuterie, plus various olive oils and chocolates. In the three and a half hours we spent tasting, he cites these three products as his favorites:
- Fabrique Delices truffle mousse paté – “A perfect combination of the richness that you love in patés, but not too much. It was paté to the nth degree, but not over the cliff.”
- Numerous Peppadew products, especially the peppadew sausages and cheese-stuffed peppadew. – “Just tasty, a good combo of sweetness and spiciness. With the added cheese, the spiciness was reduced so I could appreciate the sweetness more.” For those of you who haven’t tried peppadew before, it’s a spicy-sweet South African fruit that comes in a jar.
- Mortadella…there was a good bit of mortadella around, in slices and chunks. Dave seemed to like it all.
His biggest frustration? Too much cheese and chocolate. And, it’s true – there is an enormous amount of cheese and chocolate being produced by the gourmet food world. Unlike Dave, however, I’m not one to complain.
In upcoming posts, I will highlight my three favorites and some of the more interesting products we tried.
Saturday, June 21, 2008
The Grizzly House, Part II
So how was the "exotic meat" at The Grizzly House in Banff? (See my last entry for the backstory.)
I have one word to describe python: chewy. The venison was dark, pleasantly gamey, a little livery perhaps. Jessica really liked it. The buffalo tasted like beef (and in the context of this meal that was a good thing). The shark reminded me of tuna. The wild boar lacked a pronounced flavor. The alligator was bland and, you knew this phrase had to be in here somewhere, tasted like chicken. My favorite was the frog’s leg even though, raw, it looks amazingly like a miniature human leg. The meat was tender and charred, and it fell off the bone.
Not only does the Grizzly House boast an ultra-unique menu, it features a gimmick that – with the right crowd and copious amounts of alcohol – could be hilarious. Each table has a telephone and a list of phone numbers for each of the restaurant’s other tables (and the restrooms). Jessica tried calling several numbers but no one picked up…bummer.
Finally, the nice older couple next to us answered, and Jessica and the husband chatted for a few minutes. Turns out they were visiting from Chicago. They didn’t go as exotic as us in the meat department.
As we finished our meal our waiter Billy gave us the Grizzly House backstory. Barbara and Peter Steiner opened it as a nightclub in 1967, but that turned out to be too much of a hassle, so they transformed it into a restaurant. The Steiners are a colorful couple… naturists (nudists) and there was some intimation of swinging as well…. The Grizzly House website does say it’s for “Lovers and Hedonists”. Or at least hedonistic lovers of exotic meat. Sadly, I can’t count myself among that group. With apologies to Anthony Bourdain I think one bite of python is enough in this life. I'll stick with the frog legs -- that's exotic enough for me.
I have one word to describe python: chewy. The venison was dark, pleasantly gamey, a little livery perhaps. Jessica really liked it. The buffalo tasted like beef (and in the context of this meal that was a good thing). The shark reminded me of tuna. The wild boar lacked a pronounced flavor. The alligator was bland and, you knew this phrase had to be in here somewhere, tasted like chicken. My favorite was the frog’s leg even though, raw, it looks amazingly like a miniature human leg. The meat was tender and charred, and it fell off the bone.
Not only does the Grizzly House boast an ultra-unique menu, it features a gimmick that – with the right crowd and copious amounts of alcohol – could be hilarious. Each table has a telephone and a list of phone numbers for each of the restaurant’s other tables (and the restrooms). Jessica tried calling several numbers but no one picked up…bummer.
Finally, the nice older couple next to us answered, and Jessica and the husband chatted for a few minutes. Turns out they were visiting from Chicago. They didn’t go as exotic as us in the meat department.
As we finished our meal our waiter Billy gave us the Grizzly House backstory. Barbara and Peter Steiner opened it as a nightclub in 1967, but that turned out to be too much of a hassle, so they transformed it into a restaurant. The Steiners are a colorful couple… naturists (nudists) and there was some intimation of swinging as well…. The Grizzly House website does say it’s for “Lovers and Hedonists”. Or at least hedonistic lovers of exotic meat. Sadly, I can’t count myself among that group. With apologies to Anthony Bourdain I think one bite of python is enough in this life. I'll stick with the frog legs -- that's exotic enough for me.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
The Grizzly House, Part I
Python. Alligator. Ostrich. Shark. Buffalo. It may sound like a trip to the zoo, but actually it was just dinner at the Grizzly House Restaurant in the mountain town of Banff, Canada. Not only did we eat these exotic meats – along with venison, wild boar, and a frog’s leg – we cooked them ourselves.
I was in Banff last week with my friend/colleague Jessica for a conference. We had dinner plans with Joe, one of our favorite future (hopefully) clients. We didn’t have a venue planned, but a Canadian friend recommended we sample some exotic meats at the Grizzly House, with the caveat that we opt for the hot stone over the fondue. Like you, most likely, I had no idea what he was talking about but Jessica, Joe, and I decided to give it a whirl. After yet another television conference, where we talk about multi-platforming ad nauseum, these are the things we’ll remember, right?
Right. We walked in to Barry Manilow music, mood lighting, and buffalo heads mounted on the walls. Our waiter Billy was very welcoming and talked a mile a minute explaining all of our different options. In awe of his well-rehearsed spiel, Jessica dubbed him “the Ron Popeil of game meat.” Per their menu, Grizzly House specializes in “Alberta Beef, exotic game meats, and seafood.” Appetizers include soups and salads with an Alpine bent. Steaks are served with salad or soup, vegetables, fried onions, and rice or rosti. But the raison d’etre of the restaurant is its raw meat – cooked at the table either in a hot oil fondue or on a smooth, 600-degree hot stone. Billy pushed the complete fondue (or hot stone) dinners that came with soup or salad, an appetizer, main course, and dessert. We came for the exotic meats, though, and got down to business.
We ordered The Hunter Fondue Dinner (six ounces of buffalo, wild boar, and venison for $50.95) and the Exotic Fondue Dinner (seven ounces of shark, alligator, python, ostrich, frogs legs, buffalo, and venison for $61.95). As we had been advised, we requested the hot stone.
Soon enough Billy returned with a steaming hot stone and plates of raw cubes of meat. He gave us cooking instructions (python 45 seconds, venison one minute for medium well, etc.) and a sampling of four sauces. We got to cooking.
Jessica and Joe were both alarmingly brave. I tried to act nonchalant, but putting a morsel of python into my mouth wasn’t the easiest thing to do. With each chunk of meat my squeamishness only increased. I wanted to be cool and adventurous; hopefully I pulled it off.
So how did it all taste?
I was in Banff last week with my friend/colleague Jessica for a conference. We had dinner plans with Joe, one of our favorite future (hopefully) clients. We didn’t have a venue planned, but a Canadian friend recommended we sample some exotic meats at the Grizzly House, with the caveat that we opt for the hot stone over the fondue. Like you, most likely, I had no idea what he was talking about but Jessica, Joe, and I decided to give it a whirl. After yet another television conference, where we talk about multi-platforming ad nauseum, these are the things we’ll remember, right?
Right. We walked in to Barry Manilow music, mood lighting, and buffalo heads mounted on the walls. Our waiter Billy was very welcoming and talked a mile a minute explaining all of our different options. In awe of his well-rehearsed spiel, Jessica dubbed him “the Ron Popeil of game meat.” Per their menu, Grizzly House specializes in “Alberta Beef, exotic game meats, and seafood.” Appetizers include soups and salads with an Alpine bent. Steaks are served with salad or soup, vegetables, fried onions, and rice or rosti. But the raison d’etre of the restaurant is its raw meat – cooked at the table either in a hot oil fondue or on a smooth, 600-degree hot stone. Billy pushed the complete fondue (or hot stone) dinners that came with soup or salad, an appetizer, main course, and dessert. We came for the exotic meats, though, and got down to business.
We ordered The Hunter Fondue Dinner (six ounces of buffalo, wild boar, and venison for $50.95) and the Exotic Fondue Dinner (seven ounces of shark, alligator, python, ostrich, frogs legs, buffalo, and venison for $61.95). As we had been advised, we requested the hot stone.
Soon enough Billy returned with a steaming hot stone and plates of raw cubes of meat. He gave us cooking instructions (python 45 seconds, venison one minute for medium well, etc.) and a sampling of four sauces. We got to cooking.
Jessica and Joe were both alarmingly brave. I tried to act nonchalant, but putting a morsel of python into my mouth wasn’t the easiest thing to do. With each chunk of meat my squeamishness only increased. I wanted to be cool and adventurous; hopefully I pulled it off.
So how did it all taste?
Monday, June 16, 2008
Friday, June 13, 2008
Franny's Rules
My legions of loyal readers will be relieved to see that I'm back! I was in Banff, Canada for six days visiting family and attending a conference for work. I had a couple of fun (hint: one of them included python) restaurant experiences that I will share in the next few days.
In the meantime, I wanted to give a shout out to Franny's, home of sensational, market-driven, Italian-ish small plates, pasta, and pizza that I think one review called "fire-licked"...mmm. Acclaimed by virtually everyone, Franny's certainly doesn't need my kudos. But, tonight's dinner was just too delicious not to comment on. Usually when we go we order a couple of appetizers and then one pizza, but tonight we ordered two pizzas and nothing else. One was a standard for us: buffalo mozzarella, tomatoes, and sausage. It was thin, crispy, and tasty as always. For the second pizza I chose the clam, chili, and parsley pizza. It was awesome. The whole pie seemed to be slicked in a garlicky, clam-kissed olive oil and studded with fat clams. It was my first pizza with clams, and I suspect I will never have a better one.
In the meantime, I wanted to give a shout out to Franny's, home of sensational, market-driven, Italian-ish small plates, pasta, and pizza that I think one review called "fire-licked"...mmm. Acclaimed by virtually everyone, Franny's certainly doesn't need my kudos. But, tonight's dinner was just too delicious not to comment on. Usually when we go we order a couple of appetizers and then one pizza, but tonight we ordered two pizzas and nothing else. One was a standard for us: buffalo mozzarella, tomatoes, and sausage. It was thin, crispy, and tasty as always. For the second pizza I chose the clam, chili, and parsley pizza. It was awesome. The whole pie seemed to be slicked in a garlicky, clam-kissed olive oil and studded with fat clams. It was my first pizza with clams, and I suspect I will never have a better one.
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
Fish: The Perfect Weeknight Meal
Making fish is mostly a weeknight affair in my house. It cooks so quickly that it almost seems like cheating to make it on the weekends when I have more time to cook. I tend to buy fillets – lately tilapia or arctic char, sometimes catfish, all less expensive these days than salmon. My fallback fish prep method could hardly be more bare-bones: Heat a blend of olive oil and canola oil in a frying pan on the stove. Salt and pepper both sides of the fish fillets. When the oil is hot gently lay the fillets in the pan. Saute until they’re golden brown and gently flip the fillets. When they’re cooked all the way through, remove the fish from the pan. Depending on how thick the fillets are cooking time could take from five to ten minutes. Squeeze a little lemon on top and enjoy. Alternatively, remove the fish from the pan, add a little butter and cook it until it turns a nutty brown. Pour the butter over the fish and top with chopped parsley. Max time: 15 minutes. Simple, healthy, and delicious.
Sometimes I want to switch up the flavors, and I recently found a very simple recipe on Cooking Light.com. Spicy South Asian Roasted Fish calls for halibut fillets; I’ve made it with arctic char and catfish (we preferred the former and I think it would also be good with salmon and tilapia). The recipe calls for lemongrass which I skip… So five ingredients go in a blender or food processor to make a sauce. Pour the sauce over the fish fillets and roast in the oven for about 15 minutes. Easy! Tasty! Tonight I served it with rice and wilted baby bok choy.
The sauce calls for a half-cup of light coconut milk. To add a little more flavor to the rice I use the rest of the can of coconut milk as part of the liquid the rice is cooked in. The rice becomes a little sweet and a touch sticky, a nice complement to the spicy fish.
One note: the recipe calls for “chili sauce”. I’ve been using Vietnamese chili garlic sauce which is very spicy. So, I cut the quantity from 2 TB to a scant 1 TB.
Sometimes I want to switch up the flavors, and I recently found a very simple recipe on Cooking Light.com. Spicy South Asian Roasted Fish calls for halibut fillets; I’ve made it with arctic char and catfish (we preferred the former and I think it would also be good with salmon and tilapia). The recipe calls for lemongrass which I skip… So five ingredients go in a blender or food processor to make a sauce. Pour the sauce over the fish fillets and roast in the oven for about 15 minutes. Easy! Tasty! Tonight I served it with rice and wilted baby bok choy.
The sauce calls for a half-cup of light coconut milk. To add a little more flavor to the rice I use the rest of the can of coconut milk as part of the liquid the rice is cooked in. The rice becomes a little sweet and a touch sticky, a nice complement to the spicy fish.
One note: the recipe calls for “chili sauce”. I’ve been using Vietnamese chili garlic sauce which is very spicy. So, I cut the quantity from 2 TB to a scant 1 TB.
Sunday, June 01, 2008
Dressed for Success
When I was a kid and we were eating salad for dinner we always had a selection of bottled salad dressings on the table. Until I turned 12 and started reading teenage fashion magazines that warned me of the perils of creamy dressings I always went for the Ranch. Post-age 12 I think I opted for Italian. My dad liked Thousand Island. I don’t remember what my mom or brother used, but I do remember the same bottle of Russian dressing languishing in the fridge – and being ignored on the table – for what seemed like years.
Today, I make my own salad dressings. In this case, it’s not because I object to the taste of the bottled so much: Ranch dressing is yummy and I love the sesame ginger stuff my mom eats these days. I make my own dressing because a) I’d like to forego the additives and filler found in a lot of bought dressings and b) I like to vary the dressing based on what we’re eating.
Sometimes I’ll make a nice yogurt-based blue cheese dressing, but more often than not it’s a vinaigrette. When we’re really in a hurry that means drizzling lemon juice or vinegar (red wine, white wine, or balsamic), olive oil and salt on a salad and tossing. But when I have four or five minutes, I make an ever so slightly more elaborate vinaigrette. In cooking school I learned the basic ratio for dressings, and it’s a handy thing to memorize. Once you know the proportions the recipe is infinitely customizable based on your tastes, what the vinaigrette will be dressing, and what the rest of your meal consists of.
The basic recipe:
- one part stabilizing/flavor part like Dijon mustard, honey, maple syrup, pomegranate molasses etc.
- two parts acid like vinegar or citrus juice
- six parts oil like olive, canola, walnut etc. or a blend
My chef taught us to think of it as 1, 2, 3 as in one part for the first element, two parts of the second, and then three parts of the second (so six of the first). Feel free to ignore this trick if it makes the recipe more confusing.
Two other rules to remember: always add some salt and always taste the dressing. If you think it needs more oil or acid, add it. You can also add in minced shallots, garlic, or herbs – lots of options.
Last night I made a tarragon vinaigrette. I decided to make a little extra to last a few days since we eat a lot of salads. Using the above ratio, here’s the recipe:
1 TB Dijon mustard
2 TB white wine vinegar
pinch salt
6 TB (1/3 cup) oil – I used a blend of canola and extra virgin olive oil
1/2 TB chopped tarragon
Whisk together the mustard, vinegar, and salt. Add oil in drop by drop then in a thin stream, whisking the all the while to emulsify the mixture. Taste and adjust flavors. Last night I decided mine was too sharp-tasting, so I added another tablespoon of oil. Finally, stir in the chopped herb. In the end, it will be thick and tangy.
This vinaigrette will keep for several days in the fridge and would be delicious on roasted fish, potato or chicken salad, or even as a spread on a turkey sandwich.
Today, I make my own salad dressings. In this case, it’s not because I object to the taste of the bottled so much: Ranch dressing is yummy and I love the sesame ginger stuff my mom eats these days. I make my own dressing because a) I’d like to forego the additives and filler found in a lot of bought dressings and b) I like to vary the dressing based on what we’re eating.
Sometimes I’ll make a nice yogurt-based blue cheese dressing, but more often than not it’s a vinaigrette. When we’re really in a hurry that means drizzling lemon juice or vinegar (red wine, white wine, or balsamic), olive oil and salt on a salad and tossing. But when I have four or five minutes, I make an ever so slightly more elaborate vinaigrette. In cooking school I learned the basic ratio for dressings, and it’s a handy thing to memorize. Once you know the proportions the recipe is infinitely customizable based on your tastes, what the vinaigrette will be dressing, and what the rest of your meal consists of.
The basic recipe:
- one part stabilizing/flavor part like Dijon mustard, honey, maple syrup, pomegranate molasses etc.
- two parts acid like vinegar or citrus juice
- six parts oil like olive, canola, walnut etc. or a blend
My chef taught us to think of it as 1, 2, 3 as in one part for the first element, two parts of the second, and then three parts of the second (so six of the first). Feel free to ignore this trick if it makes the recipe more confusing.
Two other rules to remember: always add some salt and always taste the dressing. If you think it needs more oil or acid, add it. You can also add in minced shallots, garlic, or herbs – lots of options.
Last night I made a tarragon vinaigrette. I decided to make a little extra to last a few days since we eat a lot of salads. Using the above ratio, here’s the recipe:
1 TB Dijon mustard
2 TB white wine vinegar
pinch salt
6 TB (1/3 cup) oil – I used a blend of canola and extra virgin olive oil
1/2 TB chopped tarragon
Whisk together the mustard, vinegar, and salt. Add oil in drop by drop then in a thin stream, whisking the all the while to emulsify the mixture. Taste and adjust flavors. Last night I decided mine was too sharp-tasting, so I added another tablespoon of oil. Finally, stir in the chopped herb. In the end, it will be thick and tangy.
This vinaigrette will keep for several days in the fridge and would be delicious on roasted fish, potato or chicken salad, or even as a spread on a turkey sandwich.
Saturday, May 31, 2008
The Final Braise
If I had to choose my favorite cooking technique for meat I might have to go with braising: browning the meat on the stove, adding liquid and then simmering long and slow. There are so many things to appreciate about it: the flavorful, tender meat that results after the extended cooking time, the concentrated flavors of the sauce, the largely hands-off time for the bulk of the preparation. Coq au vin and beef bourguignon, two of my favorite classic French dishes are both braised. You can braise on the stovetop, but often dishes are braised in the oven making this technique a natural for days when you want to feel cozy and warm.
So, basically, May 31 is not an ideal day for a braise, especially when it’s warm and muggy outside like it was today. And, if you ever get tempted (or suckered) into braising in the dead of summer – with the oven on 350 or 400 for an hour or two or more and sweat pouring down your spine – you may just swear off the technique forever. Do yourself a favor: no more braising until October.
But, I signed off on a high note, with a flavorful and earthy recipe from The Girl & The Fig cookbook that Danielle gave me a year or two ago. This book is one of my favorites – really one of only three or four cookbooks that I use regularly. It’s written by Sondra Bernstein, the owner of The Girl & The Fig restaurant in Sonoma, California. The book highlights the restaurant's rustic French dishes with an emphasis on some of my favorite flavors: figs (of course), fennel, shallots, dried plums, tarragon, thyme, and wine. I’ve made a few things from the book including coq au vin, basil-scented potato cakes, shrimp cakes, potato leek soup, and cauliflower gruyere soup. With some tweaking here and there they’ve all been standouts.
Tonight I tried Braised Chicken with Prunes, Olives, and Capers. The sweet plumbs and the briny capers and olives were a fantastic match with the tender chicken. I served it over mashed potatoes with a crisp green salad on the side. Had it been February the meal would have been sublime. Since it was the end of May I’ll peg it at very, very good.
So, basically, May 31 is not an ideal day for a braise, especially when it’s warm and muggy outside like it was today. And, if you ever get tempted (or suckered) into braising in the dead of summer – with the oven on 350 or 400 for an hour or two or more and sweat pouring down your spine – you may just swear off the technique forever. Do yourself a favor: no more braising until October.
But, I signed off on a high note, with a flavorful and earthy recipe from The Girl & The Fig cookbook that Danielle gave me a year or two ago. This book is one of my favorites – really one of only three or four cookbooks that I use regularly. It’s written by Sondra Bernstein, the owner of The Girl & The Fig restaurant in Sonoma, California. The book highlights the restaurant's rustic French dishes with an emphasis on some of my favorite flavors: figs (of course), fennel, shallots, dried plums, tarragon, thyme, and wine. I’ve made a few things from the book including coq au vin, basil-scented potato cakes, shrimp cakes, potato leek soup, and cauliflower gruyere soup. With some tweaking here and there they’ve all been standouts.
Tonight I tried Braised Chicken with Prunes, Olives, and Capers. The sweet plumbs and the briny capers and olives were a fantastic match with the tender chicken. I served it over mashed potatoes with a crisp green salad on the side. Had it been February the meal would have been sublime. Since it was the end of May I’ll peg it at very, very good.
Monday, May 26, 2008
Baked Pancake - the next generation
When I was a kid my mom would sometimes make a “baked pancake” for breakfast on the weekends. The recipe was simple enough that by the time I was 10 or so, I’d make it myself. Basically you melted some butter in a baking dish in the oven while mixing up a simple batter of eggs, milk, and flour. The batter went in the baking dish and cooked for 20 minutes or so. As the pancake baked the sides became puffed and golden (they fell when the pancake was removed from the oven). We served the pancake with powdered sugar and maple syrup. Looking back on it, I remember the pancake’s buttery, golden sides and the thin, almost crisp base.
I made the pancake again about a year ago and was astounded. That thing is swimming in butter! A third of a cup (six tablespoons!). It was so buttery that I could hardly eat it. Needless to say, I haven’t made the baked pancake since, and talking with my mother today, I learned that she hasn’t either.
When I first saw the recipe for the dessert Oven Crespella with Nutella Sauce in the April issue of Gourmet magazine I marked it because of the nutella. Dave loves the stuff, and I thought a nutella sauce recipe would be a handy thing to have. I realized yesterday, though, that the crespella seemed awfully similar to a baked pancake and could make a tasty breakfast treat, sans the nutella sauce of course (at least yesterday…).
Compared to the baked pancake, the crespella recipe upped the amount of flour a little, milk a lot, and added some sugar, vanilla extract, and a little salt to the batter. Most crucially, the amount of butter melted in the baking dish is only two tablespoons.
The result was completely delectable. Like the baked pancake the sides rose (and then fell) and turned golden. But the base of the pancake was also thicker and the teaspoon of vanilla extract was a heady revelation. I served the crespella with maple syrup and berries, and Rosa and I devoured it. In a few years, when she’s ready, I’ll bring out this recipe – not much more complex than the baked pancake – and she can make breakfast for us.
I made the pancake again about a year ago and was astounded. That thing is swimming in butter! A third of a cup (six tablespoons!). It was so buttery that I could hardly eat it. Needless to say, I haven’t made the baked pancake since, and talking with my mother today, I learned that she hasn’t either.
When I first saw the recipe for the dessert Oven Crespella with Nutella Sauce in the April issue of Gourmet magazine I marked it because of the nutella. Dave loves the stuff, and I thought a nutella sauce recipe would be a handy thing to have. I realized yesterday, though, that the crespella seemed awfully similar to a baked pancake and could make a tasty breakfast treat, sans the nutella sauce of course (at least yesterday…).
Compared to the baked pancake, the crespella recipe upped the amount of flour a little, milk a lot, and added some sugar, vanilla extract, and a little salt to the batter. Most crucially, the amount of butter melted in the baking dish is only two tablespoons.
The result was completely delectable. Like the baked pancake the sides rose (and then fell) and turned golden. But the base of the pancake was also thicker and the teaspoon of vanilla extract was a heady revelation. I served the crespella with maple syrup and berries, and Rosa and I devoured it. In a few years, when she’s ready, I’ll bring out this recipe – not much more complex than the baked pancake – and she can make breakfast for us.
Sunday, May 25, 2008
No board required
My mother-in-law, Iolanda, once asked me to chop a bunch of parsley. I looked around her amazingly well-equipped kitchen for the most basic implement, save the knife: a cutting board. But there was not one to be found. It turns out Iolanda doesn't use a cutting board. She uses a small paring knife and her fingers, as you can see in the photo here where she's chopping scallions. Pretty hard-core, isn't it? Apparently this is how she learned to cook in her small Italian village.
And, no, I haven't taken up this practice when I'm at her house. Thankfully for my fingers, she managed to rustle up a small, round wooden board that I'm pretty sure is actually a serving board for cheese.
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Medium-bloody
That's the direct translation of "moyen-sanglant", a useful phrase to know if you’re eating at a French bistro in Montreal. It means "medium-rare" (although I think "medium-bloody" sounds much cooler), and I learned it last week when I ordered magret de canard (duck breast) at Leméac, a bustling restaurant on Laurier.
I know that Montreal is an exceptional restaurant city. Everyone from the New York Times to Gourmet magazine has told me so. When we visit Dave’s family there, though, we usually have the great pleasure of eating my mother-in-law Iolanda’s earthy and delicious Italian meals. But, on this trip Dave and I, along with his brother and his wife, decided to go out one night. Dave’s brother chose Leméac, and it was an excellent decision. I started with the smooth rillettes à l’ancienne de la maison, a kind of pâté that I smeared on toasted baguette slices. My duck breast was cooked perfectly, and the meal ended on a sweet note with a chocolate hazelnut mousse.
The room itself wasn’t particularly interesting, but the food and the service were top-notch. When in Montreal…
I know that Montreal is an exceptional restaurant city. Everyone from the New York Times to Gourmet magazine has told me so. When we visit Dave’s family there, though, we usually have the great pleasure of eating my mother-in-law Iolanda’s earthy and delicious Italian meals. But, on this trip Dave and I, along with his brother and his wife, decided to go out one night. Dave’s brother chose Leméac, and it was an excellent decision. I started with the smooth rillettes à l’ancienne de la maison, a kind of pâté that I smeared on toasted baguette slices. My duck breast was cooked perfectly, and the meal ended on a sweet note with a chocolate hazelnut mousse.
The room itself wasn’t particularly interesting, but the food and the service were top-notch. When in Montreal…
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Chicken Vera-style, Part II
A delicious and hearty one-pot meal that can incorporate virtually any vegetable (and possibly any grain or protein) that you have on hand? Fact or fiction? Myth or reality? Unicorn or horse? Ask a Macedonian and he or she would probably say yes - it's the God-honest truth.
I am here to report back on Chicken Vera-style. See Part I below which includes the recipe given to me by my colleague Rachael who’s married to a Macedonian.
I decided to make the chicken stew on Sunday when I had more time. It’s not much work at all to put together (some light chopping and then basically putting a bunch of stuff in a pot) but the hands-off cooking time won’t work for a weeknight. My plan was to use chicken thighs – cheaper than breasts – but FreshDirect had whole chickens on sale. So I bought a chicken, cut it into six pieces, leaving the thighs and legs attached, and put it in my 8-quart stockpot. I added the celery, onion, garlic, potatoes, stock, and some water to cover and brought it up to a simmer. We didn’t have a multitude of vegetables in-house so I added only some carrots. Then I noticed a half-bag of dried chickpeas in the pantry and threw those into the water, crossing my fingers that they would be tender by the time everything else was. Instead of putting the pot in the oven immediately I let it simmer on the stove for a half and hour…while I ran to the store to pick up the can of tomatoes I forgot. Tomatoes safely added I put the pan in a 375 degree oven. I upped the temperature from Rachael’s recommendation for added insurance that enough liquid would be absorbed.
And two hours later it was! (It’s funny how after cooking seriously for about five years and even going to culinary school I’m STILL genuinely pleased and a little surprised when things turn out like they’re supposed to.) The potatoes, rice, and vegetables had absorbed some of the liquid, making the dish into a thick stew. The chicken was gorgeously tender and flavorful. My chickpeas still had a little bite to them, but were definitely edible.
When I told Dave that we were going to be eating a Macedonian stew for dinner he was, shall we say, skeptical. I reminded him that Macedonia had lots of Greek and Turkish influences and that the country’s food was probably delicious. When he tasted the stew he said, “This is more like an Italian dish, if you ask me.” Coming from Dave, that’s high praise indeed.
I am here to report back on Chicken Vera-style. See Part I below which includes the recipe given to me by my colleague Rachael who’s married to a Macedonian.
I decided to make the chicken stew on Sunday when I had more time. It’s not much work at all to put together (some light chopping and then basically putting a bunch of stuff in a pot) but the hands-off cooking time won’t work for a weeknight. My plan was to use chicken thighs – cheaper than breasts – but FreshDirect had whole chickens on sale. So I bought a chicken, cut it into six pieces, leaving the thighs and legs attached, and put it in my 8-quart stockpot. I added the celery, onion, garlic, potatoes, stock, and some water to cover and brought it up to a simmer. We didn’t have a multitude of vegetables in-house so I added only some carrots. Then I noticed a half-bag of dried chickpeas in the pantry and threw those into the water, crossing my fingers that they would be tender by the time everything else was. Instead of putting the pot in the oven immediately I let it simmer on the stove for a half and hour…while I ran to the store to pick up the can of tomatoes I forgot. Tomatoes safely added I put the pan in a 375 degree oven. I upped the temperature from Rachael’s recommendation for added insurance that enough liquid would be absorbed.
And two hours later it was! (It’s funny how after cooking seriously for about five years and even going to culinary school I’m STILL genuinely pleased and a little surprised when things turn out like they’re supposed to.) The potatoes, rice, and vegetables had absorbed some of the liquid, making the dish into a thick stew. The chicken was gorgeously tender and flavorful. My chickpeas still had a little bite to them, but were definitely edible.
When I told Dave that we were going to be eating a Macedonian stew for dinner he was, shall we say, skeptical. I reminded him that Macedonia had lots of Greek and Turkish influences and that the country’s food was probably delicious. When he tasted the stew he said, “This is more like an Italian dish, if you ask me.” Coming from Dave, that’s high praise indeed.
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