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Posts from the ‘Cooking up a Storm’ Category

Mustard Seed Magic

Sunday evening I was inspired to make a few recipes from the January 2006 (typing 2006 is really frightening) Food & Wine. You never know what will jump out at you, but I liked the simplicity and flair of Sai Viswanath’s Indian inflected creations from DeWolf Tavern in Rhode Island. I decided on replicating two dishes, the garam masala-crusted chicken with fig jus and green bean-chile stir-fry. The tumeric-ginger cauliflower also sounded appealing, but I figured I’d save that side for another night.

Ingredients_1  I was hoping to use things I had around the house. All I had to run out in the freezing afternoon cold for were green beans, dried figs (which I thought I had—I swear I have every other dried fruit known to man all baggied up in the cupboard) and a jalapeño (I always have birds eye chiles on hand, but didn’t want to deviate. As it turned out, I could’ve gotten away with a little extra heat, the jalapeño was nearly imperceptible in the beans). The recipes were straightforward enough that this could’ve been a weeknight dinner (I try to reserve Sundays for time consuming endeavors) though you can’t totally ignore the chicken, it needs a little tending to.

Roastchicken James asked if I had used five spice, which I hadn’t, it was garam masala. But that made sense. It had never occurred to me before that the combo of cumin, coriander, black pepper, cloves and cinnamon (of course, there are countless variations) is totally an Indian five spice powder. I didn’t make my own, but went with a scoop from a 99-cent packet of Swad brand blend. I’m obsessed with Swad, seriously, but I’ll save my fervor for another time. The oil and spice slathered bird smelled very sweet as it roasted.

Greenbeans While at The Met (which isn't great, but compared to the world's most heinous Key Food it's almost heavenly), picking up ingredients, I tried to find an ice cream that would compliment the leftover caramel sauce I’d made the weekend before to go with sticky toffee pudding. I ended up with a pint of the limited edition Haagan Dazs eggnog flavor, but haven’t tried it yet since I was too full after eating dinner and downright tipsy after swigging a bottle of Czech beer, also a party remainder. I didn’t realize how strong the effects of 10% alcohol actually were outside of the celebratory context. I guess that’s why they call it social drinking.

P.S. Did anyone else use the '70s Keys to Reading textbooks with stoner titles like "Mustard Seed Magic" and "Air Pudding and Wind Sauce"?

Super Casual Holiday Dinner Party

My Super Casual Holiday Dinner Party was originally intended as a post-Thanksgiving feast since it’s never worth my while to cook anything substantial on the fourth Thursday of November. Everyone goes out of town except me (though this year I was able to rustle up two friends to go to Chestnut). So, I waited for the following weekend, but by this Saturday, Christmas spirit seemed to have taken over. Maybe it was the snow that fell that evening, that December was on the calendar or that we’d bought and decorated a tree that afternoon.

No matter, I was surprised at the number of RSVPers. Usually it seems like 30% will bow out, but I must’ve picked a good weekend because almost all were takers. I initially was anticipating 15 guests, that somehow swelled to 30, then subsided to somewhere in the 20s. I threw a similar shindig last year and attempted table seating, which was nightmarish.

This year it was totally buffet style, a mix of real (“blemished” Thomas Paul aviary plates off ebay, those green, blue and orange Isaac Mizrahi plates that everyone seems to own, and some caprice patterned Eva Zeisel, not the new all-white Crate and Barrel edition) and Chinet plates, classy plastic Costco cutlery that looked like metal, and everyone sprawled out, some in chairs, some on the floor. That’s why I called it Super Casual. I’ve got the food down…presentation skills, not so much.

The bizarre thing is that our apartment is spacious by NYC standards, probably close to 2,000 sq. ft. but the kitchen is woefully small. I would gladly give up the second rarely used bathroom (but never the second refrigerator—that’s pure decadence) for more cooking space.

I hate to admit that most of my recipes came from Epicurious. Cooking is like drawing to me. I can totally render something if I’m looking at it, but I can’t reproduce images from my mind. I like having a recipe to follow. I might know that I want duck and a citrus sauce with some sort of twist, but I can’t envision the exact end product. Instead, I have to browse for something to fit my criteria. The orange honey and tea sauce I ultimately settled on was exactly the type of accompaniment I had in mind but couldn’t articulate.

I don’t really get too esoteric or foody-ish, I’m very much a grocery store girl. A majority of my ingredients came from Fresh Direct (weird because I’ve only used them three times, and only for Thanksgiving) Trader Joe’s and Rossman Farms, nothing fancy. The arugula was organic because it cost the same as regular. I mean, a carrot is a carrot and no one’s going to spaz over my using store brand sour cream. And if they did, I wouldn’t be hanging around them for long. Food, for me, is fun, a social vehicle, not something to show off. 

I’ll freely admit to being a pathetic photographer (instead, I ramble on and on with words). Cooking for 25 can be harrowing, particularly in a tiny kitchen. And my serving dishes and pots couldn’t accommodate the quantity. It was all about batches and hoping for the best. So, just getting the food coordinated and on the table was a feat in itself. After an hour of sating guests with snacks (vegetable pate, duck mousse, muhammara, baked brie, and Asian sweets) and alcohol, it seemed cruel to make them wait while I snapped shots of all the dishes. You’ll have to use your imagination for much of it. Though I suspect attendees might soon come forward with additional photographic illustration.

The Menu:
Spicy Pumpkin Soup with Mexican Cream and Toasted Pepitas
Moroccan Arugula Salad with Beets and Ricotta Salata
Duck Breasts with Orange Honey and Tea Sauce
Carmelized Spiced Carrots
Jeweled Rice with Dried Fruit
Sticky Toffee Pudding
Mulled Apple Cider

Muhammara
Surprisingly good. I kind of hate roasting and peeling peppers, it’s a pain, but the end effect is worth it. It almost looked and tasted like the dip contained dairy, maybe it was the ground walnuts.

Mexican Pumpkin Soup
The original recipe made 14 servings and I upped it one and a half times to get 21 bowls worth. But I’m not culinarily savvy enough to get the proportions right. I didn’t think a straight 1.5 ratio would was necessarily correct, as nine cups of onions seemed excessive. I cut it down to maybe 7 ½ and to me, it felt a bit overpowering. I tried to cut the rawness with a little more milk and broth, a dash of sugar. I’d used all the canned pumpkin up, and then remembered a giant gross can of pre-seasoned pie filling that I’d accidentally bought a few years back and didn’t have the heart to throw away. It’d been hiding in the back of the pasta and grain shelf for ever. I tossed in a big blob, and I swear to god it saved this soup from allium overdose.

Salad Moroccan Arugula Salad With Beets and Ricotta Salata
Perfect, except that I didn’t have any serving bowls that could hold four pounds of beets and two pounds of arugula, which I didn’t deduce until after whisking the full dressing amount in the intended bowl. After being eaten down 75%, I threw in the remaining vegetables and cheese crumbles. I ate from round two and it was fine, not lacking in dressing. The first batch probably had a bit extra, whatever, it all works out in the end. Once again, I was thwarted in my quest for designer produce. I envisioned candy striped beets for this dish, but they were out of stock.

Duck_1Duck Breasts with Orange Honey and Tea Sauce
  I have a disproportionate amount of vegetarian friends, so my worries that we’d run out of duck were unfounded. I just wanted to cook poultry that wasn’t turkey. And goose is crazy expensive. Duck breasts were a good compromise, the best part of the bird and easier to manage. No hardcore carving. I knew the sauce takes an eternity to reduce because I did one smart thing and tried this recipe out a few weeks ago (I rarely do that, I know you’re not supposed to use friends as guinea pigs but it usually turns out ok). You need to cook shallots in duck fat, which is rendered after the searing. So, I was smart enough to save the fat from my test run to get the sauce accomplished the day before the party. I only needed to rewarm it and finish it off with honey and a butt-load of butter.

Carrots Carmelized Spiced Carrots
I totally destroyed cookie sheets with this one. There was way more marinade than carrot (despite using six pounds of root vegetable). I felt bad just tossing the liquid, so I drizzled, no make that poured the dark brew over the carrots while roasting. It immediately occurred to me that the sugars in the pomegranate molasses were going to char like crazy, but I just went with it. About half way through I had to rescue the carrots and transfer them to a glass dish. The apartment was totally smoked up and the larger of the two sheets, crusted in black gooey ash. They didn’t taste blackened, however. I’d originally wanted maroon and other colorful carrots for this dish, but didn’t have time to scour farmer’s markets or specialty shops. These were run of the mill orange sticks, but the roasting, spices and sauce darken the flesh anyway, the fuchsia quality would’ve been muted.

Rice Jeweled Rice with Dried Fruit
Pretty simple and nice because it doesn’t need a lot of attention, more than anything it sits. But for the life of me, I couldn’t remember to add the pistachios at the end. I made this dish again last night with leftover parboiled rice that wouldn’t fit in the pan during the party, and forgot the pistachios a second time.

Sticky Toffee Pudding
There are many variations on this sweet date cake, but I went with the version from last month’s Saveur. I don’t think it’s online yet. Maybe I’ll abuse copyright and type it out later. I couldn’t track down black treacle (everyone’s got Lyle’s golden syrup, but not the dark stuff) so I substituted molasses.

Sweets_1 At the left, assorted mithai, candied pistachios and Thai marzipan fruit, which is one of the cutest things in the world. Who would've thought to use mung bean paste to simulate ground almonds? By the point in the evening, bolstered by many glasses of wine, I became obsessed with explaining what mung beans were and had to drag out the Visual Food Encyclopedia and totally got librarian on everyone’s ass.

Spirited Hot Apple Cider
James was in charge of drinks and decided on a mulled apple cider. You couldn’t even imagine the trouble it took to track down applejack in our neighborhood (Carroll Gardens, which is hardly off the beaten path). I had this same exact trauma a few Thanksgivings ago when I needed apple brandy for a gravy.

Tom Yuck?

Ok, it might seem hypocritical to talk about something like tom yam pizza after just dissing Rachael Ray’s boo-sotto, but I never said I was classy. I’m harder on Americans than foreigners. I love the home cook, I hesitate to say house wife, geared sections of SE Asian publications like The Star. The food is almost all novel and atypical to me, so I don’t have issues if they’re oversimplifying or bastardizing recipes. 

That’s why I have no problems with Sylvia Tan’s books like Mad About Food. She doesn’t get too nuts, but does have a recipe for tom yam seafood pizza. So does Anya Von Bremzen in Terrific Pacific, the 1995 cookbook that totally got me started on my SE Asian kick. I’ve adapted the two into my own version.

Malaysians are crazy for anything tom yum, kind of how Americans equate pad Thai with Thai cuisine. By the way, Thai food sucks in Malaysia, it’s either bland and tame or Chinese food in disguise (same with Singapore and Hong Kong). I refused to believe this and couldn’t understand it since they share a border. Penang is less than one hundred miles from Thailand, like from NYC to Philadelphia (though some would argue that we can’t get cheesesteaks right). But Malaysians make anything tom yum: noodles, potato chips, buns, and yes, pizza (at Pizza Hut, no less). Who am I to buck a trend?

I was home alone tonight and trying to come up with Tomyumrawsomething that used up odds and ends cluttering up the fridge and freezer, and this was it. I used enough frozen products to make Clarence Birdseye proud: lemongrass, kaffir lime leaves, pizza dough and shrimp. The limes weren’t frozen, but ancient. Unfortunately, the half bell pepper and red onion I also intended to salvage had to be nixed since both were on the cusp of decomposing. I really cleaned house. I’d used up every last wisp of flour while making lamb pies on Sunday, so I had to improvise with cake flour, which was no biggie since it was simply for dusting

Cheese isn’t a must for this dish, but mozzarella is mild enough to not offend. But this evening I only had generic cheddar, American cheese, Chavrie goat, Pecorino Romano, light Laughing Cow cheese and a gruyere on hand (huh, that’s a lot more cheese than I realized, plus there was a moldy fontina butt end in the crisper), none of which seemed wise melted with seafood. But I went wild and grated the narrow remainder of gruyere since this was a pantry streamlining exercise.

Tom Yum Pizza

1 lime
1 teaspoon olive oil

½ tablespoon minced lemongrass

½ tablespoon minced ginger

8 ounces peeled, halved shrimp (squid works too)

2 tablespoons tom yum paste

1 squirt fish sauce

1 teaspoon sambal oelek

1 pound ball pizza dough

5 ounces sliced mushrooms, oyster preferred

Small handful coarsely chopped cilantro

2 kaffir lime leaves, shredded

Mozzarella cheese (optional)

Combine ginger, lemongrass, olive oil and juice from half the lime. Toss in shrimp and let marinade for up to one hour.

Tomyumbowls_1Mix tom yum paste, the rest of lime juice, fish sauce and sambal. Set aside.

Roll out dough and place on lightly oiled cookie sheet (preferably pizza pan).

Spread tom yum sauce over dough and top with shrimp, cut side down, and mushrooms. Sprinkle with cilantro and lime leaves. Mozzarella is optional at this point. Gross as it sounds, I’ve made it that way and it was tasty.

Bake at 500˚F for 10 to 12 minutes.

Tomyumpizza

It turned out satisfactorily, the cheese was just accent enough, but over all the pie was too salty. I’d use less tom yum paste and fish sauce next time, and probably increase the amount of shrimp. Those adjustments are reflected in the recipe above.

Sheepish Endeavor

I like cooking, though I probably enjoy planning and eating more, but I don’t revel in the act of preparing food like it’s some sensual ritual or zen process. My favorite thing is fussing around with menu ideas (I’m already fixating on what I can make—duck, not turkey—for a post-Thanksgiving dinner party that I fear won’t be well attended despite not falling on the holiday proper when everyone else seems to have places to be except for me). Perhaps that’s why the idea of being a chef has never appealed to me. Not that I’d want to be a party planner or caterer either. My cooking ambivalence is why I rarely record what I make, plus I use recipes, not things out of my head. But I’m trying to document a random dish here and there, just for the sake of practice.

* * *

LambingredientsWith the temperature finally starting to dip, Individual Lamb Pies from the latest Martha Stewart Living (I read it at work, if you must know) seemed seasonally appropriate. Besides, hers looked so cute with the little holes punched from the crust, and it gave me an excuse to purchase some relatively unnecessary kiwi green Le Creuset petite casseroles (two, rather than four because I’m cheap—I had to scrounge around the apartment in search of two other appropriate vessels, and settled on little Pyrex bowls ).

Everyone knows you’re supposed to read recipes thoroughly before attempting them, but I flaunted convention and there was trouble. I didn’t realize the lamb had to cook for two hours, that the pies had to refrigerate 30 minutes before baking, and I didn’t think to check the rarely used tub of shortening (it had gone rancid). So, I used all butter and barely squeaked by with the stick and a half on hand. I used every last poof of flour, exactly 2 1/2 cups worth. The rolling pin and board had to be dusted with old cake flour.

But it wasn’t a disaster by any means. The crust just didn’t seem as flaky as it could’ve been, and the pies weren’t ready until after 11pm, which isn’t all that unusual for Sunday evening when I always stay up too far past midnight in denial of rapidly approaching Monday.

CookedpiesI made an equally autumnal arugula, goat chese, fig and toasted walnut salad to tide me over. But it was one of those Cooking Light recipes, which are generally better than you’d expect (often the light aspect comes more from portion sizes than ingredients and I end up eating two servings, totally defeating the original purpose), though their salad dressings skew the vinegar to oil proportion in favor of the acid, which can come on too strong.

The benefit of cooking four pies for two people is that you can eat another the following night. The leftover pie was way more flavorful than the original, but didn’t look as charming minus the mini crock.

Sarawakian Experiment

Laksapaste_4Sarawak Laksa

300g Sarawak laksa paste (I'm keeping this metric because that's how the paste comes packaged)

8 cups chicken stock

1 cup thick coconut milk

16 oz thick rice vermicelli (I couldn't’t figure out how thick they meant, so I opted for the thicker of the two types I had in the pantry. I'm pretty sure Sarawak laksa doesn't use the round rice noodles, which are next to impossible to find in NYC anyway)

Toppings

¼ cup beansprouts (you’re supposed to blanch, but I didn’t bother)

3 1/2 oz. chicken (half a medium breast) poached and shredded
5 large prawns cooked and shelled (I used half a pound of smaller prawns because I needed to use them up. Consider this an American adaptation, heavier on the protein)

Ricenoodles_2Garnish

2 eggs, cooked into an omelet and cut into strips
¼ cup cilantro leaves, chopped

3 calimansi, halved (I lucked out in finding these at the Elmhurst Hong Kong Supermarket, as opposed to my usual Sunset Park location. Lime wedges would also be fine)

Boil laksa paste and chicken stock together for 15 minutes. Strain into a pot. Add coconut milk and mix well. Season to taste with sugar and salt.

Briefly boil dried noodles to soften. Drain, and divide into serving bowls. Add toppings in order listed. Ladle laksa gravy on top.

Garnish with omelet strips and cilantro.

Calimansi_4 Serve with sambal and lime halves.

Sambal
5 cloves garlic

2 shallots

Half a medium onion
¼ cup dried chiles, soaked in hot water
2 tablespoons dried shrimp, soaked and drained

5 tablespoons oil (the original calls for 6-8 tablespoons, but that felt excessive—hopefully, I didn’t ruin the flavor)
3 ½ tablespoons chile paste (I used sambal oelek)
1 tablespoon tamarind paste mixed with 3 tablespoons water

1 tablespoon sugar

½ teaspoon salt

Pound garlic, shallots, onion, dried chiles and dried shrimp into a paste using a mortar and pestle. Or alternatively, use a food processor. I usually go for the mortar and pestle (it's easier to clean, and of course more traditional) but I don't have the patience to break down the dried chiles properly.

Heat oil and fry the sambal ingredients until brown and aromatic. Add chile paste and tamarind liquid and season to taste with sugar and salt. Continue cooking over low heat for 25 minutes.

Serves four.

Adapted from Savouring Sarawak, Flavours, July-August 2005.

Sarawaklaksa_3 
I'm definitely neither food stylist nor photographer, but you get the gist.

I was lucky enough to be given a package of Double Red Swallow Sarawak laksa paste as a gift when in Kuala Lumpur. This is the good stuff, straight from Kuching. It's hard to find even in Malaysia, never mind the U.S. I hope I did it proud. As I've never had Sarawak style laksa before, it's hard to gauge how close my version comes to the original.

I do think I my sambal turned out hotter than what I'd tasted in Malaysia. I have a high heat tolerance and it still burnt the taste out of my tongue (I just ate some with chicken and rice for lunch and my mouth is now numb). I was trying to measure the dried chiles with a food scale, using the metrics from the original recipe, but I don't think the calibration is sensitive enough–no matter how many chiles I piled on, the needle barely budged. My 1/4 cup suggestion  is less than what I used, and probably wiser.

Book ‘Em

What did I buy on vacation? Er, not much really. Mostly books, which gives some people pause. And groceries (which I’ll go into at a later date). Clothes and shoes weren’t really worth the bother–I’m on the larger end of the sizing spectrum as it is in America, so Asia is kind out of the question unless I want to shop at British chains like Marks & Spencer (which I don’t really want to) or Top Shop (where I did buy a shirt). In fact, I spent so much on cookbooks that my credit card was frozen for fraud protection. (Actually, I didn’t spend that much, maybe $100, I think they would’ve frozen it anyway just because charges were coming from out of the country.)

Nonya Flavours: A Complete Guide to Penang Straits Chinese Cuisine
Food From the Heart: Malaysia's Culinary Heritage
Singapore Heritage Food: Yesterday's Recipes for Today's Cook
Malaysian Delicacies
Delightful Snacks & Dim Sum

Malaysian Cakes & Desserts
Homestyle Malay Cooking
Eurasian Favorites

Rasa Malaysia

And two bilingual books I found in the Chinese section of Kinokunyia that have zero web presence:
Moon Cake
Hawker's Kuih-muih Favorites

And People Complain About “Gourmet”

Happy times, my fall Kraft Food & Family magazine has arrived in the mail. I was first disturbed/charmed by an unsolicited Spanish language edition that was mailed to me at my former address. The goal of this advertorial/publication appears to be using as many Kraft owned brands in a single recipe and convincing readers this is good eats. It almost makes Sandra Lee look like Thomas Keller.

My favorite recipe of this issue wasn’t only mildly grotesque: easy baked fish and chips using KRAFT LIGHT DONE RIGHT! Zesty Italian Reduced Fat Dressing (they love putting salad dressing where it doesn’t belong) to toss with the potatoes, and MIRACLE WHIP Light Dressing to swab on the fish before dredging it in SHAKE 'N BAKE Extra Crispy Seasoned Coating Mix (all Kraft products have very long names and lots of capitals). Surprisingly, they call for fresh fish, probably only because they don’t own any brands like Gorton’s.

While the savory stuff tends to be scary, the desserts actually look good. But my sweet tooth tends to run very mainstream, i.e. super sugary, fatty, lots of clutter. Basil pink peppercorn granita type concoctions just don’t do it for me like caramel cheesecake bars do.

Drunk Noodles

This afternoon at work, pad thai noodles seemed like a good dinner idea. I had most of the ingredients, I’d only have to stop by the store for cilantro, bean sprouts and tofu. But as five o’clock neared, drinks took precedence. I rarely go out with coworkers, and never in midtown, but what the heck, I had the next day off.

But being midtown–we were checking out the newly opened Chemist Club around the block (this was formerly Britney Spears’s short lived Nyla, if you recall)–I could really only swing two drinks. And that’s the weird part. $22 and two pinot noirs (Willamette Valley, of course) later, I was drunk. Whenever I set out on a night of serious drinking I can down 5-6 cocktails before feeling properly punchy. There’s something about weeknights, imbibing when it’s still light out, being in the company of work mates instead of friend friends, I don’t know, that seems to accelerate the effects of alcohol.

Shopping for even three ingredients had lost its appeal on the way home. I walked in the door, starving and a little loopy, and it was only 7:30pm. More drinks seemed in order, so I dug up some hard cider left over from my birthday party a few weekends before. Now food seemed dire, but pad thai wasn’t going to work right anymore.

However, I did have most of the ingredients for pad kee mao, a.k.a. drunken noodles. Perfect. I would do a bastardized hybrid that might bother me any other night because I’m a rule follower, but when you’re hungry, desperate, and well, drunk, rules can be bent. I threw together the following in an attempt to approximate something mildly authentic while using up leftovers.

And besides, drunken noodles are named as such, not because they contain any alcohol, but because they are crazy spicy and a good companion for beer. What could be better on an unexpectedly tipsy Thursday night?

Drunk Noodles

1/2 lb. rice noodles (thick is better, but any will do)
1/2 lb. large shrimp (luckily they were already shelled, I didn’t bother to devein, but did slice them in half)
15 thai chiles, chopped
1 head of garlic, chopped
2 tbs. peanut oil
1/2 cup red onion (should’ve used shallots, and did have some, but they’re a pain to peel and all my energy had already done to prepping the garlic)
2 tbs. oyster sauce
1 tsp. sugar
2 tbs. fish sauce
1 tbs. green peppercorns (if they’re in brine like mine, rinse well and drain)
2 big handfuls of spinach (this is very wrong, but I didn’t have basil like you should for drunken noodles or cilantro like for pad thai. I did have a bunch of spinach that was going to go bad if I didn’t use it pronto, and who couldn’t use more iron in their diet?)
1 tbs. chile radish (for pad thai you can use salted radish, which I didn’t have on hand, but chile radish is awesome if you love that hot preserved flavor that isn’t really Thai at all. I put chile radish in places it doesn’t belong all the time)

Soak rice noodles in warm water for 30 minutes or so.

While noodles soak, pound garlic and chiles in mortar and pestle to a nice pulp. Cilantro stems should also be in this mix, but I didn’t have any.

Heat wok on high, add oil, then the garlic-chile puree. Toss in the red onions/shallots too. Cook for a little less than a minute.

Add shrimp (you can use all sorts of seafood, but I happened to have frozen shrimp). Cook until shrimp turns pink, then sprinkle the oyster sauce, fish sauce and sugar.

Mix in noodles. Cook for about a minute. Try to get out the clumps.

Add green peppercorns, chile radish and spinach, and try not to be annoyed that the nice holy basil and scent and flavor is lacking.

Makes about four servings, less if you are very hungry.

Very roughly adapted from Dancing Shrimp, by Kasma Loha-Unchit. Simon & Schuster (2000)

Drunkfixings_1

Drunkpaste_1

Radish_1

Drunkwok_1

Soft-Shell Buns

I’ve been meaning to try Momofuku Noodle Bar for as long as it has been open (two years tops, likely less) but I no longer have any friends or loved ones in the East Village, it’s not on my way to anything and I’m weird about sitting on stools at counters. And this Peking duck-like sandwich isn’t what the restaurant is known for, but after seeing this intriguing recipe in New York my mind forgot all about the pork belly and ramen I’d been missing.

The gist of the dish is sauteeing soft-shell crabs in bacon fat and stuffing them into Chinese buns along with hoisin sauce, scallions and lightly pickled cucumber slices. Easy. But I’m not sure about the buns because I haven’t eaten the original (which I definitely intend to now). They’re not char siu type buns, they’re more like super puffy tacos shells minus the crunch, doughy rounds folded in half to make a fluffy pocket. The buns, or steamed rolls like the package read, were also larger than I’d expected (I used a brand called Juans, which always cracks me up. Maybe on Staten Island, where the company is based, Juan is an Asian name), so you could realistically fit a whole crab inside, where the recipe called for halving the crustaceans. Or maybe my crabs were smaller. Either way, the end result was still satisfying (and I went wild and included some of the bacon, which is only intended for fat rendering). Pork and seafood get along better than many people think.

Crabuns

Softshell2

Tapas Party

Sometimes it seems that 90% of the food I make is Asian in some way. I just can’t help myself, it’s what I love. But recently I gave into the Spanish/Basque bug that seems to have bitten every food editor, aficionado and amateur on the planet (It has always kind of bummed me out that I was raised so white bread suburban, no culinary lineage to speak of, unless you count tossing frozen Banquet chicken into a baking dish as cooking. But I am Basque. Sure, only a negligible amount, somewhere in the 1/8-1/4 range, but it’s a pretty cool heritage to claim if you’re going to adopt one as an adult–especially, seeing as how it’s a current culinary darling. And now that my dad is gone I wish I had learned more about those Mexican and Basque roots, though admittedly his Applebee’s ways probably wouldn’t have shed much light on the matter.) and threw a birthday bash, complete with plenty of tapas, traditional and nuevo.

It was a little risky considering many of my friends are either vegetarian or carnivores who might still shy away from blood sausage and anchovies. But it’s impossible to please everyone. I stuck to my guns and made things I’d like to eat (never mind the birthday boy), which is the best route sometimes.

Around the beginning of the year The New York Times, Food & Wine, and Gourmet all did tapas features. It was kind of bizarre, the barrage. I didn’t want to be a direct copycat, but I did draw from these sources as well as a few books.

My menu included:
Cheese: Cabrales, Queso de Murcia, Idiazabal, Mahon, Manchego
Snacks: Spanish olives, Marcona almonds, Serrano ham, quince paste

Cheese

And the following:

Anchovy and Pepper Roll-Ups

1 7.6-ounce jar Spanish piquillo peppers
1/2 pound white anchovies.

Slice peppers into 1/2-inch strips. You should be able to make 60. Place an anchovy on each pepper strip, roll up and skewer with a toothpick. Serve.

Yield: About 60 pieces

Take a Cup Of Tapas Yet For Auld Lang Syne, by Florence Fabricant. New York Times. December 29, 2004

I had lots of these left over–not many anchovy fans in the house. I ended up mashing the remains and tossing the resulting chunky paste with pasta. A nice second life.

Pear and Cabrales Canapés

5 ounces Cabrales or other blue-veined cheese
20 dried pear halves.

Mash cheese until smooth. Carve away cores of pears. Spread half the pears with cheese, top with remaining pear halves, and cut each into fourths. Serve.

Yield: 40 canapés

Take a Cup Of Tapas Yet For Auld Lang Syne, by Florence Fabricant. New York Times. December 29, 2004

These weren’t bad, but a little tangier and chewier than I’d prefer.

Tapas2

Chickpeas with Blood Sausage in Garlic and Parsley
Garbanzos con Butifarra negra

From Bar Pinotxo, Barcelona

olive oil
½ large onion, thinly sliced
1 garlic clove, finely chopped
2 tablespoons finely chopped fresh parsley
1 oz. golden raisins, soaked in hot water for 15 minutes and drained
sprinkling of pine nuts
5 1/2 ounces. blood sausage, fried and coarsely chopped
14-ounce can chickpeas, drained
salt and pepper to taste

Put two tablespoons of olive oil in a saucepan over a low heat, then sauté the onion until it is just tender. Add the garlic, parsley, raisins, and pine nuts, and mix well.

Add the blood sausage and chickpeas and heat through, stirring all the time. Season with salt and pepper. Transfer to a serving platter, drizzle with olive oil, and serve at once.

New Tapas: Today’s Best Bar Food from Spain, by Fiona Dunlop. Laurel Glen Publishing (2002)

I absolutely love the flavors in this salad. It might’ve been one of the least eaten dishes, but that only meant more for me later. I’ve since made it with chorizo, mainly because blood sausage isn’t always on hand or nearby, and the result was still pleasing.

Chorizo With Sherry Finish

2 whole chorizo sausages, about 9 ounces each
Leaves from 2 branches fresh rosemary
1/4 cup dry white wine
1 cup fino sherry.

Peel casing from chorizo, and slice sausage 1/2-inch thick. Place rosemary on a cutting board, and lightly bruise with a rolling pin.Place chorizo, rosemary, wine and 3/8 cup sherry in a skillet that will hold chorizo in a single layer. Bring to a simmer and cook, turning chorizo once or twice, over medium-low heat until wine has evaporated, leaving bright red fat in the pan, about 15 minutes. Remove chorizo from pan and discard fat.

Return chorizo to pan. Just before serving, add remaining sherry, briefly reheat chorizo, and transfer, with pan juices, to a dish. Serve, with toothpicks or wooden skewers.

Yield: 60 pieces

Take a Cup Of Tapas Yet For Auld Lang Syne, by Florence Fabricant. New York Times. December 29, 2004

I used the small chorizo from d’Espana Foods (they have a website and I can’t re-find it for the life of me) and neglected to peel the casings. I was spared the fiddly work and it turned out fine.

Tapas1

Minted Lamb Meatballs
Albóndigas de Cordero a la Hierbabuena

From Enrique Becerra, Seville

1 pound, 2 ounces lamb, ground or finely chopped
salt and pepper to taste
4 tablespoons soft bread crumbs
1 tablespoon chopped, fresh mint
2 small eggs, beaten
Salt and freshly ground pepper
1/2 cup extra-virgin olive oil
3 cloves of garlic, finely chopped
1/2 cup dry sherry
1 tablespoon olive oil, for sauteeing

sauce
2 onions, finely chopped
1 clove garlic, finely chopped
1 tablespoon olive oil, for sauteeing
1 cup thick tomato paste
1 tablespoon dry sherry
water, for thinning

Combine all the meatball ingredients, except the olive oil, in a large bowl and mix well. Form the meat into one-inch balls and saute in oil until lightly browned on all sides. Drain on paper towels and set aside.

In the same pan, saute the onions and garlic for the sauce in olive oil until soft. add the tomato paste and sherry and simmer for 10 minutes. Remove from the heat.

In a blender, puree the sauce until smooth, andding a little water if it’s too thick. Return the sauce to the saute pan and add the meatballs. Bring to a boil and cook over a medium heat for about 10 minutes. Serve hot.

Makes about 32 meatballs

New Tapas: Today’s Best Bar Food from Spain, by Fiona Dunlop. Laurel Glen Publishing (2002)

These were a hit, though there was a minor trauma with under done centers. They took longer to cook through than expected. Luckily, this was rectified before the bulk of the guests arrived.

Garlic Paprika Shrimp

1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil
2 tablespoons hot smoked Spanish paprika
1 1/2 teaspoons ground cumin
salt, to taste
1 teaspoon cayenne pepper
5 cloves garlic, sliced
3 pounds large shrimp, peeled and deveined
Juice of 2 lemons.

Pour oil into large pan. Add paprika, cumin, salt, cayenne and garlic. Cook just until garlic starts to brown. Raise heat to medium-high and add shrimp. Cook until pink, about 3 to 4 minutes. Toss with lemon juice.

Will serve about 15 people if part of a larger spread.

Minted Eggplant

1/4 cup Sherry vinegar
3 medium eggplants (2 lb total), trimmed and each cut lengthwise into 8 wedges
3/4 teaspoon salt
1 garlic clove, minced
1/2 teaspoon dried oregano, crumbled
1/8 teaspoon black pepper
6 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
2 tablespoons finely chopped fresh mint
2 tablespoons finely chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
Special equipment: a 12-inch collapsible steamer basket or a pasta pot with a shallow perforated colander-steamer insert

Bring 1 inch water and 2 tablespoons vinegar to a boil in a large pot (or a deep skillet with a lid). Arrange eggplant, skin sides down, in steamer basket and sprinkle with 1/2 teaspoon salt, then steam, covered, until tender, 15 to 20 minutes. Transfer basket to sink and let eggplant drain 5 minutes.

Transfer eggplant to a deep platter. Whisk together garlic, oregano, pepper, remaining 1/4 teaspoon salt, and remaining 2 tablespoons vinegar in a small bowl, then add oil in a slow stream, whisking until combined. Pour dressing over eggplant while still warm and let marinate at room temperature, basting with dressing several times, 2 hours. Sprinkle with mint and parsley just before serving.

Makes 12 servings

Sketches of Spain, by Ruth Cousineau. Gourmet. January 2005