Balls and Walnuts
more than you ever wanted to know
Category Archives: Food
Bread pudding to die for
Does it seem like I’m posting lots of recipes lately? Don’t hear no one complainin’.
This is the Dubai Deal of bread pudding recipes: it feels all wrong, but it tastes so good. Do you suppose that’s why the Bush Administration wants to sell our ports to the United Arab Emirates company — because those UAE guys taste so good? Is that how these closed room deals are made? It makes as much sense as any other explanation I’ve heard.
It’s that time again
 |
|
Thirteen Gastronomic Orgasms The challenge here is to come up with thirteen omigod food experiences which I haven't blogged about. Let's see how far I can get before I have to fall back on some old favorites. 1. Funky red bean paste dessert. Let me describe this Chinese confection to you, since I don't know the proper name. It uses a sheet-like wrapper derived from tofu to enclose sweetened red bean paste. The packet, sort of like a flat burrito, is deep fried and sprinkled with powdered sugar. It's amazing -- hot, sweet, a bit salty. 2. Shrimp scampi at La Pergola's, North Beach, San Francisco, early 1980s. Yup, you'll need a time machine for this one. Karen and I went back there in the mid-80s, ordered the scampi, and it just wasn't the same. The key features of die-and-go-to-heaven scampi: fresh prawns cooked to perfection, and a buttery sauce, no skimping on the garlic. This has to be one of the most commonly messed-up recipes, since I am inevitably disappointed. 3. Eggplant parmigiano, Il Giardino Restaurant, Ashland, OR. I make a mean eggplant parmigiano, but mine does not compare to Il Giardino's. Theirs is unparalled for melt-in-your-mouth goodness. I suspect they use Chinese or Japanese eggplant, since your typical fatso aubergine won't turn behave like this, no matter how you coddle it. And, yes, I've tried salting it, rinsing it, and squeezing out all the excess water. No go. 4. Soft tacos, El Grullense, Redwood City, CA. As hard as I try, my soft tacos can't hold a jalapeno to the ones they make at El Grullense. We first ate there in the mid-80s, when they were a hole-in-the-wall place serving food to go, lines spilling out on the sidewalk. Now they're a chain, and as busy as ever. My guess as to the secret ingredient: pork lard, and lots of it. The perfect soft taco: pork carnitas (or lengua -- beef tongue) on a homemade corn tortilla, garnished with chopped yellow onion, cilantro, salsa, and a squeeze of lime juice. 5. Any sausage at Top Dog, Berkeley, CA. Certain moments in my life have crystallized as images of paradise. One such is the time I ate three sausages in a row at the Top Dog on Durant Ave. It was summer, the sky was that shade of China blue I've only ever seen in the Bay Area, the temperature was around 70, and those sausages (a Polish and a couple of brats, if I know me) slid down the gullet like raw oysters. The counter guy joked I'd need a new stomach. Wrong! 6. Thai seafood hot pot, Berkeley, CA. I don't remember the name of the restaurant, but they've long since closed. This hot pot featured unbearably fresh scallops, prawns, and calamari, all simmered to perfection, along with an exquisite balance of pepper, garlic, fish sauce, and cilantro -- yet another Wonder of the World I have not been able to reproduce in my kitchen. 7. Hazelnut gelato, Vivoli's, Berkeley, CA. Gggrrrhlllhgggrrllhgglarrrrhll. 'Nuff said. Oh, and the alternate lifestyle wimmen who own and run Vivoli's -- total fantasy material, hairy armpits and all. 8. White sandwich bread, Virginia Bakery, Berkeley, CA. Are you beginning to understand why I miss Berkeley so much? If I won the lottery, first thing I'd do, I'd buy a house in Berkeley, north of the campus. I went into Virginia Bakery one day and asked the counter gal, "My God, what smells so good?" She had just pulled a tray of white bread loaves from the oven. I couldn't believe white bread could smell so good, so I bought a loaf. "I'm taking this home right now," I said, and she encourage me to try a slice. What, no butter, no jam? Yes, just a dry slice of white bread, and yet it tasted like heaven. Nothing compares. 9. Soft shell crab, New Orleans. I wish I could remember the name of that place -- a converted church, if that rings anyone's bells. Karen and I ordered one helping of the appetizer. The waiter said, "What? Only one?" Um . . . yeah. "But there's only one crab per order," he said. This shocked us, given the price of the appetizer, but aw hell we're on vacation let's splurge and get two. Two of the BIGGEST mofo soft shell crabs we had ever seen in our lives, each one swimming in its own sea of clarified butter. Needless to say, we had no room left for dinner, let alone dessert. 10. Bread pudding with whiskey cream sauce, Palace Cafe, Santa Barbara, CA. At last, something we have been able to reproduce at home. Karen uses Wonder Bread, believe it or not. If I had a loaf of white bread from Virginia Bakery for Karen's recipe, we would all die with smiles on our faces. 11. Fried clams from the East Coast. Will one of you east-coasters tell me if there are still fast food joints that serve nothing but fried clams and French fries? I remember this from childhood, our occasional 12. Blood pudding in France. I mentioned this on someone's blog recently, but never here. When Karen and I honeymooned in Europe, we tended to order without knowing what it would be. I'm not sure I would have ordered blood pudding knowingly. I remember something savory, spicy, so good I was sopping up the remnants with my bread and wishing for more. 13. Mussels in Paris, in a place across from the Louvre -- also during our honeymoon. I don't think I had ever tasted mussels before, so I didn't know quite what to expect. I've had good mussels since then, but nothing quite as good. There's nothing worse than a bad mussel, and nothing better than a perfect one. Yippee! I did it. Not a single repetition from previous food posts (I don't think; although, it's hard to imagine I've never raved about Top Dog before on these pages.) Okay, your turn: what gives you a resounding gastronomic orgasm? D. The Thirteen Crowd: 1. Kate Rothwell holds forth on writing; 3. Joan imagines a bunch of stuff |
Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!
The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!
View More Thursday Thirteen Participants
Pestopia
I remember the first time I held hands with a girl, and I remember my first dish of oh-my-God-what-IS-this-stuff pesto, and I would be hard-pressed to tell you which moment was more intensely pleasurable.
Better than sex, that’s for sure. Capellini con pesto, angel hair pasta with pesto, piping hot on a plain white dish served from a hole in the wall restaurant somewhere on the Venice Beach Boardwalk. I was twenty-two, maybe twenty-three, and until that moment I had thought scampi was the ultimate food. Never more.
Clafouti notes
Success!
Well, near disaster, as the damnable thing almost slid off the rimless cookie sheet when I lifted it out of the oven. Nevertheless, Karen gave it a big thumb’s up, I liked it too, and Jake declared it flavorless. As Meatloaf used to sing, two out of three ain’t bad.
Here are a few adjustments to the recipe:
1. Since I had to throw out my flour yesterday (too worried about the possibility of glass splinters landing in there), I used Jiffy Pizza Mix, which is essentially just flour and baking powder. This worked fine.
2. I used fewer blueberries, perhaps 1.5 boxes worth. I didn’t pack them in as densely as I did yesterday — that seemed like blueberry overkill.
3. Most important thing to note: I had to bake it for 90 minutes, not 60. That seems typical for my oven, however; I usually have to bake things longer than the recipe claims.
4. I added a little cinnamon and nutmeg to the powdered sugar. Probably unnecessary.
5. Only 10 calories per slice!
Just kidding about that last bit (unless you serve five degree slices).
D.
Killer Clafouti
It’s only a killer if you follow these instructions, and you are struck in the carotid artery with a large shard of glass. Otherwise, it’s merely tasty.
One more caveat: I haven’t made this yet with blueberries. Tomorrow maybe. Julia’s recipe uses 3 cups of pitted black cherries; blueberries should work, but they are a wetter fruit than cherries, so the result may be a bit odd. I’ll let you know.
Blueberry Clafouti (inspired by Julia Child’s Mastering the Art of French Cooking, Volume 1)
Preheat oven to 350F.
Cleaned and ready to use: two small boxes of blueberries — about 2 cups (enough to cover the layer of your pie pan one-blueberry-deep)
Place the following ingredients into the blender jar in the order listed. Cover and blend at top speed for one minute:
1 1/4 cups milk
1/3 cup granulated sugar
3 eggs
1 tablespoon vanilla extract
1/8 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup flour
Melt about 1 tablespoon of unsalted butter in the bottom of a nonstick metal pie pan or pyrex pie dish (7 to 8 cup volume). Coat bottom of dish with the butter. Pour enough batter into the pan to make a 1/4 inch layer. Put it into the oven and wait until you have a rather firm layer adherent to the bottom of the pan.
Add blueberries and spread them out, single layer thick. Sprinkle 1/3 cup granulated sugar on top of the blueberries, and add the rest of the batter. (You might want to whir up the batter for a few seconds before adding it.)
Bake for one hour. It should puff up and be brown on top (between the berries). Sprinkle top with powdered sugar and serve hot or warm.
***
Coming soon:
I succumb to Candy’s meme, “Ten celebrities I would shag.”
Later!
D.
Dumbass move of the day
Karen wanted a blueberry clafouti for breakfast today, so, loving husband that I am, I obliged.
In case you’re saying, “Huh? Wha?” a clafouti is a fruit pancake you bake in the oven. Or a giant muffin, something like that. You mix the batter in a blender, and then you pour some of the batter into a deep pie dish and let it set up a bit in the oven. Next, you add fruit, sugar, and the rest of the batter. Bake for one hour. Dust with powdered sugar.
I became inpatient with the “let it set up a bit in the oven” step. After waiting three or four minutes, the batter still had not firmed up, so I placed the dish (a heavy glass pie dish, oven safe, but not Pyrex) over a low heat. I moved it frequently so that it would heat in an even fashion.
Best. Biscuits. Ever.
From Cook’s Illustrated, the best cooking magazine ever (July/August 2004):
2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon double-acting baking powder
1 tablespoon sugar
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
4 tablespoons cold unsalted butter, cut into 1/4-inch cubes
1.5 cups cold low-fat buttermilk
nonstick cooking spray
To form and finish the biscuits:
1 cup unbleached all-purpose flour
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
- Adjust rack to middle position and preheat oven to 500F. Spray 9-inch round cake pan with cooking spray, dust with flour, set aside.
- In food processor, pulse the dry ingredients and the butter until pebbly. Transfer to mixing bowl and refrigerate until the oven is preheated.
- Add buttermilk. Stir until the wet and dry ingredients are just combined.
- Using a 1/4 cup measuring cup, scoop out some dough and drop it into the all-purpose flour. Gently coat with flour and roll the biscuit from hand to hand to get rid of the excess flour. Drop it onto the cake pan. Repeat. You want the biscuits to touch one another. (Cook’s Illustrated sez: 9 biscuits snugly around the perimeter of the cake pan, three in the center.)
- Spoon melted butter over tops of biscuits. Bake 5 minutes at 500 degrees, then lower oven to 450. Bake an additional 15 minutes or until the tops are golden.
- Cook’s Illustrated sez to cool in pan 2 minutes, invert onto a dish, and cool 5 minutes longer. We eat ’em straight out of the oven.
These biscuits will totally effin KILL your low carb diet. They’re great as is, but they’re extra decadent with honey and more butter.
Tonight, I made these biscuits, ham, and candied yams. Not bad, considering I ate some bad chicken yesterday, and I’ve felt bloated and nauseated ever since. Oy.
D.
The better-late-than-never thirteen
|
|
Thirteen Memories of Food
2. In Kindergarten, we had to drink milk at recess. Had to. You couldn't throw away your milk unless the level had dropped down below the level of the cow's bell. 3. First grade: I remember the taste of guinea pig pellets (not bad) and nontoxic paste (bad). I would taste anything. I'm still that way. 4. In case you haven't guessed, I used to have pica. From that link, I learned, "Pica is most common in people with developmental disabilities, including autism and mental retardation, and in children between the ages of 2 and 3. Although kids younger than 18 to 24 months can try to eat nonfood items, it isn't necessarily considered abnormal at that age." Good to know. My favorite nonfood items: the shellac on the wood of my bedframe; chalk from any source, even the ground; tar dripping off telephone poles. 5. On the other hand, I hated bananas, carrots, cantaloupes, raw nuts, and avocado. They made my throat itch. (Remember that, Sis?) Nowadays, naturally, I love 'em all. 6. I've never tasted breast milk. (That's a non-memory.) 8. When my mother made brown rice, I would slather it with margarine and soak it with soy sauce. "You must be half-Chinese," she'd say. 9. But I was all kwailo as far as my girlfriend's mom was concerned. For the most part, I loved her cooking, as long as she didn't try to feed me fish stomach. I found out later (long after we broke up) that the woman really, really liked me. She even liked my mother. No surprise there. 10. Worst thing eaten at a Chinese wedding: squab, poorly prepared. 11. Best thing eaten at a Chinese wedding: abalone, well prepared. 12. First year away from home, my boarding house mom fixed dinners for me and my roommate. Marguerite Slater, a wonderful woman, had a catering business on the side. She had even met Julia Child. I think often of Mrs. Slater, and grumble over the fact she would never part with her apple pie recipe. The. Best. Ever. 13. In the Berkeley Co-ops, the students took turns preparing meals. Worst idea ever: tuna jello. I missed out on that one, thankfully.
|
Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!
The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!
Fesenjan
I’ve given you balls up to your ears; now, at long last, I shall deliver on my promise to give you walnuts.
By necessity, I’ve learned how to cook ethnic. I can bake pita bread (since our grocery stores consider this too exotic), fix a mean baklava, do a delicious baba ganouj or hummus. My Chinese stir fries are passable, yet better than the local fare, and my Indian cuisine is excellent. One of our favorite dishes is leftover tandoori chicken stewed in a sauce of onions and cream.
Tonight, I felt like doing something special with duck. Cassoulet takes days to prepare, and Peking duck at least a full day, so that meant either pan-seared duck breast or fesenjan. Karen opted for fesenjan.
Ninety percent of the labor comes from boning the duck, so if you want to substitute boneless chicken thighs and breasts, be my guest.
Fesenjan
1. Skin and bone the duck. (Use the carcass to make a quick stock, and render the fat from the skin. Fried duck skin is great all by itself, but it’s also yummy on salads. Duck fat can be substituted for butter or olive oil for any savory dish. I use it to make chopped chicken liver.) Chop the meat into one-inch pieces and sprinkle the pieces with salt and freshly ground pepper.
2. Meanwhile, toast 2 cups of walnuts in the oven at 350F until, erm, toasty. Don’t let ’em burn. Do let them cool, then grind them in a food processor. You want the mixture to be a little coarse.
3. In a heavy-bottomed pot (a Dutch oven works great), brown the duck meat in two or three tablespoons of butter. Set the browned meat aside in a glass bowl to catch the drippings.
4. Chop a large onion — fine, coarse, doesn’t really matter. Fry the onions in the leftover butter. If you’d like, add a teaspoon of cinnamon to the onions towards the end of the frying. You want the onions to be golden, or a little darker.
5. Add to the onions the duck and its drippings, the ground walnuts, about 1 cup of pomegranate paste, and 1 to 2 cups of stock. Start with one cup of stock, stir the ingredients, and add more stock until you get the desired consistency. (You know — like stew!) Here’s an online Persian Grocery that sells pomegranate paste and oh my heavens zereshk berries, too! Now I can make zereshk polo.
6. Add about 1 tablespoon of sugar, and adjust the salt to taste. Add more pomegranate paste if you’d like your stew a bit more sour, or (if you’re like my wife) you just love pomegranate. Simmer for 20 to 30 minutes.
7. For tender meat, you want to brown the meat as quickly as possible, and then simmer as gently as possible. Remember, dark meat doesn’t toughen up nearly as readily as white meat, so if you’re using chicken, you may want to use nothing but thigh meat.
8. Serve over basmati rice. (Yes, that Persian Grocery sells basmati, too.) Best basmati rice: rinse a cup of rice, boil the rice in LOTS of salted water until it is not quite tender, then strain the rice. In a non-stick or heavy-bottomed pot, melt 2 to 4 tablespoons of butter. Layer the rice on top of the butter. Put the lid on the pot. Now, let the rice steam by keeping the pot over a very low heat for, I dunno, 15 to 30 minutes. It will be done long before 30 minutes, but that doesn’t matter. If you do it right (and believe me, this is an art I still haven’t quite mastered) you’ll have a delicious golden brown crust of rice at the bottom of the pot.
Any questions?
D.