Today was a textbook-perfect day for a girl. I only worked a half day, but did not lament the lost wages because I was being paid in "QOL"..."quality of life". It was 66 degrees and sunny here in the oft-cloudy Cleveland. So I took a walk with a friend , enjoyed loads of girltalk in the bright spring sunshine, and was persuaded to visit a Salvation Army thrift store. The delicious pointy-toed high-heeled pumps (my size!) in yummy, springtime, sherbet colors would have been enough...but the never-worn Saucony running shoes (the brand that suited me best in the olden days when I was a distance runner) was the coup de grace. I really, really NEEDED some good running/walking shoes! Oh, and it was half-price day so I got 3 pair of kicks for a 10-spot. Not bad.
So, how does a girl top a beautiful day in the sun that also happened to involve awesome new shoes for a song?? With Gorgonzola Dolce, of course.
I am rediscovering cheese, these days. And like any good gourmand, I like it for dessert. Gorgonzola Dolce is a soft cheese, similar in texture to a brie or Camembert, with nice veins of blue running through, adding a touch of pungency to the delicate creaminess. BUT...it is far more mild than the firm, crumbled gorgonzola most people are familiar with as a very zesty accent for Italian salads. I put mine on a pear. There was creaminess, there was sweetness, there was earthiness. There was a heavenly moment to put an exclamation point on the end of an ideal day.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Friday, March 26, 2010
Port Wine Zabaglione (or...The Egg is a Many Splendored Thing)
I generally don't keep much in the way of desserts in the house. And when I cook, I far prefer preparing the savory over the sweet. But tonight I wanted dessert...badly.
My cupboard at the end of the week could easily belong to old Mother Hubbard. We're talking bare. I am down to just a few absolute essentials to tide me over until I get to the market tomorrow. So, how was I possibly going to satisfy this dessert craving without going out. (I am DONE for the day and I am NOT going anywhere!)I didn't have the right raw materials to bake. As far as fruit goes, there was only a scant handful of grapes. There was no yogurt, no chocolate, and not enough butter to make caramel.
BUT! But, there's almost always some sugar hanging around in the pantry. We never finished the eggs this week. And didn't I do a port wine reduction sauce a couple of weeks ago?? There's some port left over...hey...I think this will work...yes, it will...ITALIAN WINE CUSTARD!!!
Ah, yes...Zabaglione. When I worked at Buca, I loathed making this custard. Keep in mind I had to do an industrial-sized batch to feed up to 250 people in a night. In the restaurant recipe I think we measured the egg yolks by the POUND, not by the ounce. It was a never-ending task of separating eggs. When you make zabaglione or Italian wine custard at home, you will rarely ever have to separate more than a dozen eggs. No problemo. And tonight, I made just a very little bit of custard for the two of us and I only used 3 eggs.
Zabaglione can be divine. After all, it is a custard and custard is the base for the much-loved dessert institution: ice cream. But rather than using milk or cream as the liquid medium, zabaglione uses wine, often marsala (but you can really use any sweet wine). The effect is rich without being creamy or feeling heavy. I love it served with fresh fruit.
The port wine zabaglione was quite nice. I seasoned it with a little bit of cinnamon and served it over those last remaining grapes in the icebox. Hit the spot! Thank God for the egg...so adaptable!
PORT WINE ZABAGLIONE for 2
3 egg yolks
1/8 cup sugar
1/3 cup port wine
pinch of cinnamon
Start a saucepan of boiling water (you will be using this as a double-boiler) In another saucepan, or the top of your double boiler, combine the port, sugar, and cinnamon, and just bring to a boil on another burner. When it starts to boil, remove from the heat and allow to cool. Temper your egg yolks with a spoonful or two of the still-warm port wine mixture. Then put this back into the port wine mixture sauce pan and put over the double boiler. Whisk vigorously and constantly. The mixture will begin to froth, then look thicker. When it begins to thicken, continue to whisk for 1-2 more minutes, then remove from the double boiler, spoon into a holding container and chill. When it has cooled, serve over fresh fruit.
My cupboard at the end of the week could easily belong to old Mother Hubbard. We're talking bare. I am down to just a few absolute essentials to tide me over until I get to the market tomorrow. So, how was I possibly going to satisfy this dessert craving without going out. (I am DONE for the day and I am NOT going anywhere!)I didn't have the right raw materials to bake. As far as fruit goes, there was only a scant handful of grapes. There was no yogurt, no chocolate, and not enough butter to make caramel.
BUT! But, there's almost always some sugar hanging around in the pantry. We never finished the eggs this week. And didn't I do a port wine reduction sauce a couple of weeks ago?? There's some port left over...hey...I think this will work...yes, it will...ITALIAN WINE CUSTARD!!!
Ah, yes...Zabaglione. When I worked at Buca, I loathed making this custard. Keep in mind I had to do an industrial-sized batch to feed up to 250 people in a night. In the restaurant recipe I think we measured the egg yolks by the POUND, not by the ounce. It was a never-ending task of separating eggs. When you make zabaglione or Italian wine custard at home, you will rarely ever have to separate more than a dozen eggs. No problemo. And tonight, I made just a very little bit of custard for the two of us and I only used 3 eggs.
Zabaglione can be divine. After all, it is a custard and custard is the base for the much-loved dessert institution: ice cream. But rather than using milk or cream as the liquid medium, zabaglione uses wine, often marsala (but you can really use any sweet wine). The effect is rich without being creamy or feeling heavy. I love it served with fresh fruit.
The port wine zabaglione was quite nice. I seasoned it with a little bit of cinnamon and served it over those last remaining grapes in the icebox. Hit the spot! Thank God for the egg...so adaptable!
PORT WINE ZABAGLIONE for 2
3 egg yolks
1/8 cup sugar
1/3 cup port wine
pinch of cinnamon
Start a saucepan of boiling water (you will be using this as a double-boiler) In another saucepan, or the top of your double boiler, combine the port, sugar, and cinnamon, and just bring to a boil on another burner. When it starts to boil, remove from the heat and allow to cool. Temper your egg yolks with a spoonful or two of the still-warm port wine mixture. Then put this back into the port wine mixture sauce pan and put over the double boiler. Whisk vigorously and constantly. The mixture will begin to froth, then look thicker. When it begins to thicken, continue to whisk for 1-2 more minutes, then remove from the double boiler, spoon into a holding container and chill. When it has cooled, serve over fresh fruit.
Monday, March 22, 2010
Walkin' the Walk (Swimmin' the Swim???)
In a previous post about salmon, I quoted an expert on sustainable fishing and the health benefits of eating lower on the aquatic food chain. That is to say, if we don't always go for the big pelagics and instead eat the more populous little fishies, we will increase our consumption of good fish oils and decrease our exposure to PCBs and big-fish diseases. In that post, I said I was willing to try herring, shad, sardines, anchovies, and the like.
These are UNPOPULAR fish varieties and they are generally found only in canned varieties (at least around here). But some of the large and most popular varieties of fish out-price beef tenderloin per pound, so if you are trying to keep a disciplined grocery budget, fish in a tin certainly helps towards that goal while still lending you all of the health benefits associated with eating fresh fish.
During my lost weekend with Jacques Pepin, I watched him make a first course salad that incorporated creamed herring. I figure, if it's good enough for Jacques, then it's good enough for me. Now was the time for me to make good on my indication that I was going to start eating this stuff. Secretly, though, I was expecting to be grossed out.
I didn't do Jacques's salad, but instead made a herring sandwich of sorts. I started with bread (homemade but roughly equivalent to a quality rustic, crusty French or Italian) coated the bread with some dijon mustard, put an avocado half on top, and then several kippered herring fillets that I salted liberally and accented with a squeeze of lemon.
It was...GOOD.
I don't think I'm going to convert anyone to kippered herring sandwiches, nor do I think I'll have people clamoring for Jacques's creamed herring salad were I to make it, but as I mentioned in a previous post, I am sure that these more assertive fish flavors done up in a terrine would be a totally elegant appetizer at a cocktail party and would garner just as many fans as, say, salmon mousse.
So, purveyors of little fishies, you have a new customer. Let's review why:
-Little fish carry a lower risk of disease, PCBs, and other chemicals in the fillets
-Little fish are more populous and therefore more sustainable.
-Little fish have a relatively high "good oil" content...(the stuff that protects your heart and makes your skin flawless).
-Little fish go for about 2.50 a tin (versus 17.99 a pound for some of their seaborne predators at the fish counter).
All this eating of uber-healthy fish is bringing back a memory of some old 1950's musical I watched on TV as a child... I'll never remember the name of the movie, but there was a great song and the lyrics were very funny to me, even then. It went something like this:
"You eat the blackstrap molasses
and the wheat-germ bread...
You'll live so long
you'll wish you were dead"
Can't wait!
These are UNPOPULAR fish varieties and they are generally found only in canned varieties (at least around here). But some of the large and most popular varieties of fish out-price beef tenderloin per pound, so if you are trying to keep a disciplined grocery budget, fish in a tin certainly helps towards that goal while still lending you all of the health benefits associated with eating fresh fish.
During my lost weekend with Jacques Pepin, I watched him make a first course salad that incorporated creamed herring. I figure, if it's good enough for Jacques, then it's good enough for me. Now was the time for me to make good on my indication that I was going to start eating this stuff. Secretly, though, I was expecting to be grossed out.
I didn't do Jacques's salad, but instead made a herring sandwich of sorts. I started with bread (homemade but roughly equivalent to a quality rustic, crusty French or Italian) coated the bread with some dijon mustard, put an avocado half on top, and then several kippered herring fillets that I salted liberally and accented with a squeeze of lemon.
It was...GOOD.
I don't think I'm going to convert anyone to kippered herring sandwiches, nor do I think I'll have people clamoring for Jacques's creamed herring salad were I to make it, but as I mentioned in a previous post, I am sure that these more assertive fish flavors done up in a terrine would be a totally elegant appetizer at a cocktail party and would garner just as many fans as, say, salmon mousse.
So, purveyors of little fishies, you have a new customer. Let's review why:
-Little fish carry a lower risk of disease, PCBs, and other chemicals in the fillets
-Little fish are more populous and therefore more sustainable.
-Little fish have a relatively high "good oil" content...(the stuff that protects your heart and makes your skin flawless).
-Little fish go for about 2.50 a tin (versus 17.99 a pound for some of their seaborne predators at the fish counter).
All this eating of uber-healthy fish is bringing back a memory of some old 1950's musical I watched on TV as a child... I'll never remember the name of the movie, but there was a great song and the lyrics were very funny to me, even then. It went something like this:
"You eat the blackstrap molasses
and the wheat-germ bread...
You'll live so long
you'll wish you were dead"
Can't wait!
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Jacques Pepin on YouTube
I have discovered that KQED Productions has posted Pepin's "Fast Food My Way" public broadcast series on YouTube and I am hooked!
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Oh, Colcannon!
I wasn't going to make ANYTHING Irish today. I wasn't trying to take an anti-Gaelic stance, but I often plan my menus a week in advance, and the last time I planned my grocery list, I just plain forgot Saint Patrick's Day would be upon us...so there was no corned beef in my kitchen.
There was corned beef in every other food blogger's kitchen, though. I've been reading all about it. And there was cabbage, too...wonderful cabbage. Sweet, delicious cabbage that apparently prompted food writer Michael Ruhlman's wife to request third helpings. This image of a cabbage so good that it made someone ask for thirds was a contagious one for me. Suddenly, I wanted cabbage, too.
I just so happened to have half a head of cabbage. In fact, I happened to have all the right ingredients on hand for a colcannon. Colcannon is a big-wheel bash-up of mashed potatoes, cabbage, and onions. It is traditional in Ireland to serve it both on Halloween (with kale in lieu of cabbage) and on the first day of spring. As an experiment, I also wound up adding some non-traditional ingredients and found them to be successful. I'll note a recipe of sorts below, but in my usual freewheeling style of cooking at home, I was winging it, so these quantities should not be considered scientific exactitudes. But DO try this recipe sometime...it was positively addictive. I served it with some oven-roasted bone-in chicken breasts and it was a nice combination. It would also be great with a grill-charred burger:
COLCANNON (Yield 2 hearty servings or 4 small servings):
8 redskin potatoes halved and boiled until fork-tender (I leave the skin on)
1/2 small head of cabbage, just blanched for moment, then drained and chopped (if the cabbage you find is humongous, just use a quarter of the head)
1 small yellow onion, thinly sliced
1/2-1 cup of milk
2 T butter, divided.
2 t salt, or to taste
approx. 1/3 cup minced dill pickles
1 t dijon mustard
Mash the potatoes by hand with the milk and 1 T of butter. Just get it to semi-smooth consistency. I think this dish is kind of rustic, and some chunkiness is desirable. That's also why I leave the potatoes in their jackets.
Saute the onion and cabbage over medium heat in the remaining T of butter. Get them nice and tender, just on the verge of browning (probably about 7 minutes or so). Fold these into the mashed potatoes, mix well, and add salt. Add the pickles and mustard.
I loved, loved, loved the addition of the minced pickles. Cabbage has kind of a sweet flavor and potatoes have a sweet flavor, so the tangy-ness of the pickles and dijon created a great sense of balance. Obviously, my "secret ingredients" are not traditional, but I'm certain that I will never again make colcannon without them. I think their contribution to the sweet/tangy interplay of flavors makes the dish.
There was corned beef in every other food blogger's kitchen, though. I've been reading all about it. And there was cabbage, too...wonderful cabbage. Sweet, delicious cabbage that apparently prompted food writer Michael Ruhlman's wife to request third helpings. This image of a cabbage so good that it made someone ask for thirds was a contagious one for me. Suddenly, I wanted cabbage, too.
I just so happened to have half a head of cabbage. In fact, I happened to have all the right ingredients on hand for a colcannon. Colcannon is a big-wheel bash-up of mashed potatoes, cabbage, and onions. It is traditional in Ireland to serve it both on Halloween (with kale in lieu of cabbage) and on the first day of spring. As an experiment, I also wound up adding some non-traditional ingredients and found them to be successful. I'll note a recipe of sorts below, but in my usual freewheeling style of cooking at home, I was winging it, so these quantities should not be considered scientific exactitudes. But DO try this recipe sometime...it was positively addictive. I served it with some oven-roasted bone-in chicken breasts and it was a nice combination. It would also be great with a grill-charred burger:
COLCANNON (Yield 2 hearty servings or 4 small servings):
8 redskin potatoes halved and boiled until fork-tender (I leave the skin on)
1/2 small head of cabbage, just blanched for moment, then drained and chopped (if the cabbage you find is humongous, just use a quarter of the head)
1 small yellow onion, thinly sliced
1/2-1 cup of milk
2 T butter, divided.
2 t salt, or to taste
approx. 1/3 cup minced dill pickles
1 t dijon mustard
Mash the potatoes by hand with the milk and 1 T of butter. Just get it to semi-smooth consistency. I think this dish is kind of rustic, and some chunkiness is desirable. That's also why I leave the potatoes in their jackets.
Saute the onion and cabbage over medium heat in the remaining T of butter. Get them nice and tender, just on the verge of browning (probably about 7 minutes or so). Fold these into the mashed potatoes, mix well, and add salt. Add the pickles and mustard.
I loved, loved, loved the addition of the minced pickles. Cabbage has kind of a sweet flavor and potatoes have a sweet flavor, so the tangy-ness of the pickles and dijon created a great sense of balance. Obviously, my "secret ingredients" are not traditional, but I'm certain that I will never again make colcannon without them. I think their contribution to the sweet/tangy interplay of flavors makes the dish.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Settings Hiccup
Sorry if you've tried to comment and the site disallowed it...my settings somehow got changed in error (I was rooting around in there last week). But it's back to "all systems go" again.
-Karen
-Karen
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Welcome Back to Fresh!
I thought those 5-feet-tall mounds of snow on each side of our driveway might never melt, but a little spring sun and a little spring rain this past week has made short work of them. The snow is gone. This is my first spring in the new house and there are little green shoots starting to show in the garden beds. I can hardly wait to see what show of color there might be...crocuses? hyacinths? tulips? daffodils?
Even going to the grocery store is giving me a little lift. There is rhubarb, asparagus, and gorgeous knob onions on display in the produce department. Everything is looking really fresh.
And not a moment too soon. It's time to start eating light again. Yes, I DO love the slow-cooked braises and hearty fare of the cold-weather months, but as I have been reading up on remedies for a strained tendon that has been giving me grief, I keep seeing anecdotal evidence that eating anti-inflammatory foods (http://www.webmd.com/diet/guide/anti-inflammatory-diet-road-to-good-health) might help me heal faster. Anti-inflammatory foods are the ones without added sugar, glutens, or chemicals. Land-animal fats are kept to a minimum while the consumption of cold-water fish is maximized (for their "good" Omega-3 oils).
When the weather outside does not resemble the arctic circle, eating this way is pure pleasure. There's a feeling of synchronicity when the weather is lighter and brighter and so are our dinners. Doesn't wild salmon with little spring green onions in a yogurt sauce sound amazing? Chicken breast with rhubarb and sorrel is a springtime favorite of mine. Little haricots verts with roasted pistachios and citrus zest pair well with just about anything.... All of those little neighborhood farmer's markets should be opening up again in a few short weeks and I, for one, am ready to take advantage of all the young, spring produce. Who needs a gut-busting meat-fest for dinner with a sugar-bomb for dessert when the sun is still shining in the evening hours and there is gardening to be done, or twilight walks to go on?
Welcome back, sunshine...welcome back, fresh food!
Even going to the grocery store is giving me a little lift. There is rhubarb, asparagus, and gorgeous knob onions on display in the produce department. Everything is looking really fresh.
And not a moment too soon. It's time to start eating light again. Yes, I DO love the slow-cooked braises and hearty fare of the cold-weather months, but as I have been reading up on remedies for a strained tendon that has been giving me grief, I keep seeing anecdotal evidence that eating anti-inflammatory foods (http://www.webmd.com/diet/guide/anti-inflammatory-diet-road-to-good-health) might help me heal faster. Anti-inflammatory foods are the ones without added sugar, glutens, or chemicals. Land-animal fats are kept to a minimum while the consumption of cold-water fish is maximized (for their "good" Omega-3 oils).
When the weather outside does not resemble the arctic circle, eating this way is pure pleasure. There's a feeling of synchronicity when the weather is lighter and brighter and so are our dinners. Doesn't wild salmon with little spring green onions in a yogurt sauce sound amazing? Chicken breast with rhubarb and sorrel is a springtime favorite of mine. Little haricots verts with roasted pistachios and citrus zest pair well with just about anything.... All of those little neighborhood farmer's markets should be opening up again in a few short weeks and I, for one, am ready to take advantage of all the young, spring produce. Who needs a gut-busting meat-fest for dinner with a sugar-bomb for dessert when the sun is still shining in the evening hours and there is gardening to be done, or twilight walks to go on?
Welcome back, sunshine...welcome back, fresh food!
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Can It, Will You?
I have just made a revolutionary discovery: canning food. If everyone discovered canning, it is quite possible that all of this buzz about eating locally and sustainably grown food would actually be possible for more than 3 months a year.
It is certainly a summertime treat to eat fresh produce that you yourself or a friend has grown at home, or purchased directly from a farm stand by the roadside. There are now local weekly farmer's markets in many areas, you can subscribe to a CSA Farm (Community Supported Agriculture), and even some grocery stores have a section for locally-grown produce in season. But then winter hits Cleveland and we're back to buying under-ripe veggies shipped in from another continent and flavorless hothouse tomatoes because, well, what choice is there? Just sit back and get scurvy?
Well, my grandmother used to can. After they retired, my grandparents lived on two acres, of which nearly one full acre was "the garden." My grandfather got up every morning and tended to rows and rows of fruit and vegetables. My grandmother made sure that nothing he grew went to waste. She cooked lots of fresh food, gave some things from the garden away, and canned the rest for use in the winter. I used to think canning was a very difficult operation. There was talk of "sterilizing" and how important it was to get a good "seal". There was miles of shelving in the basement lined with mason jars and coordinating lids. It looked like an intimidating science experiment that probably wasn't much fun.
In my professional development, I have been researching optimal ways to freeze and preserve food since some of the cooking I do as a personal chef is not consumed immediately. While reading about best-practices for preserving food, I naturally came across canning as an option for long-term food storage. It didn't sound as complicated as I remember. Since I had some extra vegetables on hand and exactly one mason jar, I thought I'd see if canning was an impossibly labor-intensive, antiquated chore from my grandparents' generation.
It turns out that although there were a lot of pots of boiling water involved...it wasn't hard to do, at all. In fact, the whole operation was really quick and it was very easy to clean up. Canning was simple enough that I can't imagine NOT doing it again, especially when I am inundated with beautiful tomatoes from friends' gardens at the end of the summer.
Armed with this new skill, I am considering the possibility that the not-yet planted bed at the end of the back lawn may not get lilies and meadow sage after all. As I recall, asparagus flowers and squash blossoms....
It is certainly a summertime treat to eat fresh produce that you yourself or a friend has grown at home, or purchased directly from a farm stand by the roadside. There are now local weekly farmer's markets in many areas, you can subscribe to a CSA Farm (Community Supported Agriculture), and even some grocery stores have a section for locally-grown produce in season. But then winter hits Cleveland and we're back to buying under-ripe veggies shipped in from another continent and flavorless hothouse tomatoes because, well, what choice is there? Just sit back and get scurvy?
Well, my grandmother used to can. After they retired, my grandparents lived on two acres, of which nearly one full acre was "the garden." My grandfather got up every morning and tended to rows and rows of fruit and vegetables. My grandmother made sure that nothing he grew went to waste. She cooked lots of fresh food, gave some things from the garden away, and canned the rest for use in the winter. I used to think canning was a very difficult operation. There was talk of "sterilizing" and how important it was to get a good "seal". There was miles of shelving in the basement lined with mason jars and coordinating lids. It looked like an intimidating science experiment that probably wasn't much fun.
In my professional development, I have been researching optimal ways to freeze and preserve food since some of the cooking I do as a personal chef is not consumed immediately. While reading about best-practices for preserving food, I naturally came across canning as an option for long-term food storage. It didn't sound as complicated as I remember. Since I had some extra vegetables on hand and exactly one mason jar, I thought I'd see if canning was an impossibly labor-intensive, antiquated chore from my grandparents' generation.
It turns out that although there were a lot of pots of boiling water involved...it wasn't hard to do, at all. In fact, the whole operation was really quick and it was very easy to clean up. Canning was simple enough that I can't imagine NOT doing it again, especially when I am inundated with beautiful tomatoes from friends' gardens at the end of the summer.
Armed with this new skill, I am considering the possibility that the not-yet planted bed at the end of the back lawn may not get lilies and meadow sage after all. As I recall, asparagus flowers and squash blossoms....
Saturday, March 6, 2010
What the Heck is a "Spatchcock"??!
It was a most productive Saturday: I took care of the dog, got my haircut (so I don't look like Edgar Winter http://www.edgarwinter.com/home.php), did a thorough cleaning of the house from beam to beam, did four loads of laundry, washed my car by hand, took a beautiful walk along Euclid Creek in the falling afternoon light, and spatchcocked two Cornish Hens.
Pardon me? Don't worry...I'll get to it!
I needed the afternoon walk. I woke up too early and a little bit cranky and the best medicine for moods like that, I've found, is just to fly straight into workhorse mode. You have no time to focus on your sour disposition and you tire yourself out so you are sure to NOT awaken too early the following day. So I decided to get everything I needed to do over the entire weekend done on one Saturday. But by the time I had finished my self-imposed chores, I realized the sky was a gorgeous blue and the day was meant to be enjoyed, so I high-tailed it to the Metroparks.
Speaking of moods...I love the ever-changing moods of Euclid Creek. Sometimes the water is high and dangerous. Sometimes, it slows to a trickle. Sometimes the scenery is nothing short of majestic. Sometimes the light is flat and it's not much more than a painted backdrop. On New Years Day, the water in the creek was the lovliest silver-green color that looked gorgeous against the mounds of fresh, white snow. It never gets old.
Completely relaxed from my afternoon trek and sense of accomplishment from my finished chores, it was time to start dinner. I had this fantasy that I was going to completely de-bone and butterfly some little Cornish Hens like a pro. But after working hard all day, I was too lazy to retrieve my good boning knife from where I keep my work equipment, and the dumb utility knife I use at home was too clumsy to bone a difficult, little bird. Plus, I admit my cutting skills are better on bigger subjects . Despite the charming tutorial by Julie Powell (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1zNeQ8Gb2hg&feature=related), the woman behind the inspiration for the "Julie and Julia" movie, there was no way, especially after my post-walk glass of white wine, that those Cornish Hens were going to be fully de-boned AND attractive enough to serve. So I wimped out and spatchcocked the birds.
"Spatchcock" is a really awkward word for flattening a bird (http://www.nakedwhiz.com/spatchdef.htm). You remove the backbone and breastbone (but leave in the leg and wing bones), so that you can spread out the poultry and shorten the cooking time. It's a good option if you ever want to grill a whole chicken or turkey and don't want it to take all night to cook.
It really was a great time-saver. I roasted my little hens in just over half the time it would take to roast them whole. And in the last 7 minutes, I cranked the heat, coated them in a port wine reduction sauce, and added some scallions and apricots. Nevermind that mi esposo wasn't sure if the sauce was a trumped-up barbeque, I found it to be perfectly elegant.
So, after a seriously busy day, I was able to put together a really nice little dinner in no time flat...because the birds were ...flat, that is.
Pardon me? Don't worry...I'll get to it!
I needed the afternoon walk. I woke up too early and a little bit cranky and the best medicine for moods like that, I've found, is just to fly straight into workhorse mode. You have no time to focus on your sour disposition and you tire yourself out so you are sure to NOT awaken too early the following day. So I decided to get everything I needed to do over the entire weekend done on one Saturday. But by the time I had finished my self-imposed chores, I realized the sky was a gorgeous blue and the day was meant to be enjoyed, so I high-tailed it to the Metroparks.
Speaking of moods...I love the ever-changing moods of Euclid Creek. Sometimes the water is high and dangerous. Sometimes, it slows to a trickle. Sometimes the scenery is nothing short of majestic. Sometimes the light is flat and it's not much more than a painted backdrop. On New Years Day, the water in the creek was the lovliest silver-green color that looked gorgeous against the mounds of fresh, white snow. It never gets old.
Completely relaxed from my afternoon trek and sense of accomplishment from my finished chores, it was time to start dinner. I had this fantasy that I was going to completely de-bone and butterfly some little Cornish Hens like a pro. But after working hard all day, I was too lazy to retrieve my good boning knife from where I keep my work equipment, and the dumb utility knife I use at home was too clumsy to bone a difficult, little bird. Plus, I admit my cutting skills are better on bigger subjects . Despite the charming tutorial by Julie Powell (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1zNeQ8Gb2hg&feature=related), the woman behind the inspiration for the "Julie and Julia" movie, there was no way, especially after my post-walk glass of white wine, that those Cornish Hens were going to be fully de-boned AND attractive enough to serve. So I wimped out and spatchcocked the birds.
"Spatchcock" is a really awkward word for flattening a bird (http://www.nakedwhiz.com/spatchdef.htm). You remove the backbone and breastbone (but leave in the leg and wing bones), so that you can spread out the poultry and shorten the cooking time. It's a good option if you ever want to grill a whole chicken or turkey and don't want it to take all night to cook.
It really was a great time-saver. I roasted my little hens in just over half the time it would take to roast them whole. And in the last 7 minutes, I cranked the heat, coated them in a port wine reduction sauce, and added some scallions and apricots. Nevermind that mi esposo wasn't sure if the sauce was a trumped-up barbeque, I found it to be perfectly elegant.
So, after a seriously busy day, I was able to put together a really nice little dinner in no time flat...because the birds were ...flat, that is.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
The Other Red Meat
In my travels today, I drove past the old Daniels Dam area in Willoughby. Mi esposo, a fisherman, tells me that this is a popular spot on the Chagrin River for steel-head trout. Indeed, though the snow has not even come close to melting, the fish must be swimming upstream as I saw a couple die-hards out in their waders on this 35-degree day. It's official then, fresh fish is in season!
This week at the fish counter, the beautiful, deep red, wild Pacific salmon was less expensive than the farm-raised pink Atlantic variety. I was all over that.
The red salmon (I always call it "Sockeye" whether or not it actually is that exact variety, as an homage to an amusing band from Kent that went by the same name) tastes completely different than its paler, farm-raised cousin. In "The Perricone Prescription" (http://www.amazon.com/Perricone-Prescription-Nicholas/dp/0060188790), author Nicholas Perricone explains how your complexion can beat the clock by following his anti-inflammatory diet featuring mineral-rich foods like, you guessed it, deep red wild salmon. I don't know if I am really taking years off my face, but you really get a sense that the red, wild salmon DOES have more vitamins and minerals. The color is deeper, the taste is richer, it just feels more complete.
If fresh wild fish "feels" better, it's because it quite possibly IS better. Many experts feel that wild fish is the safest. These proponents of wild fish point out that the fish are eating a natural diet and are more active and therefore less fatty...and the dangerous PCB and metal levels we hear about in fish tend to settle in the fat deposits (Yes, fish DO get fat...if you ever cut a side of salmon, you have to make sure you slice off the big slab of undesirable belly fat before filleting it.) But however it is labeled or mislabeled, over 80% of all salmon sold in this country is farmed...so trim the skin and the fat! Or marry a fisherman.
Interestingly, while reading about salmon, I stumbled across the name of author Taras Grescoe who was quoted in a Boston Globe article about salmon (http://www.boston.com/lifestyle/food/articles/2008/07/02/catch_of_the_day/?page=2). He wrote a book about eating ethically and making seafood sustainable and he asserts that we should be eating the little fish that the larger fish eat because they are plentiful and largely disease-free.
I am absolutely willing to try these varieties that are currently less popular. I've always rather liked salted herring...and mackerel is supposed to be incredibly good for you (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Atlantic_mackerel), with a whole host of healthy oils and B vitamins. But, these smaller fish have a high level of fish oil and can therefore retain a stronger, more "fishy" flavor. But there must be a way to make it palatable. The Japanese plop something suspect into a handroll and are able to get us to "oooh and aaah" over oily varieties like eel, so I see possibilities.
Maybe a nice fish terrine...though just this side of strong in flavor, so nice on a cracker with cold white wine and some perky, poppy roe on top...? I feel a cocktail party coming on!
This week at the fish counter, the beautiful, deep red, wild Pacific salmon was less expensive than the farm-raised pink Atlantic variety. I was all over that.
The red salmon (I always call it "Sockeye" whether or not it actually is that exact variety, as an homage to an amusing band from Kent that went by the same name) tastes completely different than its paler, farm-raised cousin. In "The Perricone Prescription" (http://www.amazon.com/Perricone-Prescription-Nicholas/dp/0060188790), author Nicholas Perricone explains how your complexion can beat the clock by following his anti-inflammatory diet featuring mineral-rich foods like, you guessed it, deep red wild salmon. I don't know if I am really taking years off my face, but you really get a sense that the red, wild salmon DOES have more vitamins and minerals. The color is deeper, the taste is richer, it just feels more complete.
If fresh wild fish "feels" better, it's because it quite possibly IS better. Many experts feel that wild fish is the safest. These proponents of wild fish point out that the fish are eating a natural diet and are more active and therefore less fatty...and the dangerous PCB and metal levels we hear about in fish tend to settle in the fat deposits (Yes, fish DO get fat...if you ever cut a side of salmon, you have to make sure you slice off the big slab of undesirable belly fat before filleting it.) But however it is labeled or mislabeled, over 80% of all salmon sold in this country is farmed...so trim the skin and the fat! Or marry a fisherman.
Interestingly, while reading about salmon, I stumbled across the name of author Taras Grescoe who was quoted in a Boston Globe article about salmon (http://www.boston.com/lifestyle/food/articles/2008/07/02/catch_of_the_day/?page=2). He wrote a book about eating ethically and making seafood sustainable and he asserts that we should be eating the little fish that the larger fish eat because they are plentiful and largely disease-free.
I am absolutely willing to try these varieties that are currently less popular. I've always rather liked salted herring...and mackerel is supposed to be incredibly good for you (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Atlantic_mackerel), with a whole host of healthy oils and B vitamins. But, these smaller fish have a high level of fish oil and can therefore retain a stronger, more "fishy" flavor. But there must be a way to make it palatable. The Japanese plop something suspect into a handroll and are able to get us to "oooh and aaah" over oily varieties like eel, so I see possibilities.
Maybe a nice fish terrine...though just this side of strong in flavor, so nice on a cracker with cold white wine and some perky, poppy roe on top...? I feel a cocktail party coming on!
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