Welcome to Coriander's Fine Foods and Catering

 

Columns and Articles

Columns from the Star News:
(Please scroll down to your selected column -- We are in the process of making this page easier to use!)
    
     April 30, 2008 - Kitchen Comedy
    April 16, 2008 - Horseradish
    April 2, 2008 - Scallops

    March 12, 2008 - Empty Bowls
     February 20, 2008 - Immigrantion Can Be Delicious
     February 6, 2008 - Barley Hops to the Rescue
     January 23, 2008 - Bringing Barbeque Inside
     January 9, 2008 - Beat the Winter Blues
     December 26, 2007 - New Year's Traditions and Rationalizations
     December 12, 2007 - I Left My Artichoke Hearts in San Francisco
     November 14, 2007 - Thanksgiving Mashed Potatoes
    October 28, 2007 - The Beet Goes On
    October 3, 2007 -  Kosher Salt
    September 19, 2007 - Food Fixations
    September 5, 2007 - Kitchen Safety
    August 22, 2007 - Catering Disasters
                                    Recipe:  Foolproof Chocolate-Coconut Fondue
     August 8, 2007 - Taking the Moroccan Challenge
                                Recipes include Chicken with Lemon and Olives, Preserved Lemons
     July 25, 2007 - Vegas, Baby: Celebrity Chefs
                               Recipes include Ahi Tuna Tartare
     July 11, 2007 - Chillin' and Grilling -
                               Recipes include Killer Burgers, Asian Noodle Slaw and Tabbouleh
     June 27, 2007 - It Takes a Village to Make a Sandwich -
                                Recipes include Turkey Avocado Wrap
     June 13, 2007 - Seeing Meatballs in a New Light -
                                Recipes include Larry's Turkey Meatballs
     May 16, 2007 - A Good Cup of Tea is Hard to Find -
                                Recipes includeTea-Smoked Duck Breast with Blackberry Demi Glace
     May 2, 2007 - Bits about Bacon -
                             Recipes include Marinated Bacon-Wrapped Grouper Bites and Spaghetti Carbonara
     April 18, 2007 -  Veggie Sweepstakes:  Asparagus -
                                 Recipes include Crispy Asparagus and Asparagus Flan
     April 4, 2007 - Pack Up Your Knives!  -
                              Recipes include French Onion Soup
     March 21, 2007 - Eggrolls:  Not Just for Take-Out Anymore -
                                   Recipes include Chicken and Jack Cheese Eggrolls, Shrimp and Crab Rolls with
                                   Raspberry Mustard
     March 7, 2007 - Parsley for President -
                                Recipes include Gremolata, BLT Dip, Herbed Goat Cheese
     February 21, 2007 - Black Beans:  Rock Stars of the Legume World -
                                       Recipes include Black Bean Soup, Seared Tuna with Black Beans, Pico de Gallo
     February 14, 2007 - Spice Up Your Life with Red Curry Paste -
                                       Recipes include Thai Butternut Squash Soup, Salmon with Red Curry Sauce
     February 7, 2007 - Aphrodisiacs:  Foods of Love -
                                     Recipes include Baked Champagne Oysters, Arugula Salad with Blood Oranges

Column – Kitchen Sit-Com

 I love my job.  This isn’t news to any of you who have been reading this column for any amount of time, but it bears repeating.  I would love it even more if it wasn’t for the obligatory paperwork, maintenance chores and the other scut work that is involved in keeping a business afloat, but overall I’ve got a pretty good deal. 

 That might sound like an odd thing to say about a vocation that by definition includes unpredictable hours, unlimited stress, plenty of heavy lifting and room temperatures that are often uncomfortable – and don’t even get me started on the ugly footwear thing again – but the fact is that I probably spend more time in the average day laughing than most of the people I know.

 Cooking isn’t brain surgery.  Sure, there’s a certain attention to detail that is necessary if you’re going to do it right, but a great deal of what we do in the kitchen is routine, and doesn’t require a lot of concentration once you’ve done it a few hundred times.  And the people who are attracted to this profession tend to be, how do I say this – a little off-beat.  Strange, even.  Anyway, we’re all just a teensy bit odd.  Hmm.  Maybe it is a bit more like brain surgery that I’d thought.  Anyway . . .

 So in any kitchen on a given day you’ve got a cast of characters with busy hands, definable goals and minds that are free to roam.  In an unbalanced kitchen, this combination can lead to a work environment that is fraught with bad temper, mind games and power plays (and if you don’t believe me, just watch Top Chef for, oh, thirty seconds – then please change the channel or go back to leading a productive life).  In a good kitchen, however, this same environment lays the groundwork for moments of comic genius.

 I’ve always been amazed that the powers-that-be at the television networks have never managed to put together a successful sit-com that is based in a restaurant kitchen.  I know they’ve tried.  A few years back, even I was feeling sorry for Emeril after his disastrous attempt at comic acting – and I’m much more likely to be annoyed by the ubiquitous Food Network star than to feel any sympathy for him. 

 It’s possible that the spontaneous kitchen humor that gets me through the day isn’t reproducible, and I’d believe that  if it wasn’t for the fact that I know that when I go to work tomorrow I’ll have at least two episodes of that full belly laughter that just makes you glad to be human.  And that’s on a slow day.

 Hey, I’m not trying to leave you guys out, but even in an open kitchen with customers walking in and out, the best moments are just ours.  Mostly, when you walk into the store we try to be on our best behavior – and it’s not easy for kitchen geeks to be charming.  We do our best, but there’s a good reason why 95 percent of the people in foodservice are hidden behind kitchen doors.   My people are the most competent, irreverent, and silly people I’ve ever known, but even on our best days we’re the Not-Quite-Ready-For-Prime-Time cooks. 

To answer the question that you haven’t quite formulated in your head yet:  Yes.  I’ve often thought of installing a camera in the kitchen so that I can catch our most amusing moments on film, reproduce them word for word and become the most amazingly successful comedy writer in Hollywood.  But that would mean giving up the day-to-day comedy show that is my life.  Besides, I just like Being There. 

 So … A man walks into a restaurant . . .

 Does a double twirl with an enthusiastic hands-out flourish while saying something like “What’s hot today, kids”, to which we all answer, “YOU ARE!”  At which point he winces and puts his hand to his hip and says, “I think I might have hurt myself with that entrance.”  And we all clapped and cheered..  See, it’s not just the employees who are funny.

 Good Mojo Spicy Garlic Chicken Pizza

 1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons olive oil
2 large onions, thinly sliced
3 tablespoons golden brown sugar
1 1/2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar
1 1/2 teaspoons plus 1 tablespoon minced garlic
1 pound skinless boneless chicken breat, cut into 3/4-inch pieces
2 tablespoons sriracha (Thai hot chili garlic) sauce
6 tablespoons chopped fresh cilantro
2 Boboli bread shells
1 cup shredded mozzarella cheese
1 cup shredded provolone cheese
3 large plum tomatoes, seeded, chopped (about 1 1/2 cups)

 Heat 1/4 cup oil in heavy large skillet over high heat. Add onions and sauté 5 minutes. Reduce heat to medium-low and sauté until onions are dark brown and caramelized, about 25 minutes. Add sugar, vinegar and 1 1/2 teaspoons garlic; stir until liquid evaporates, about 2 minutes longer. Cool to room temperature.  (Can be done up to two days before and stored in an airtight container in the fridge)

Sprinkle chicken cubes with salt. Heat 2 tablespoons oil in another heavy large skillet over medium-high heat. Add chicken and sauté 2 minutes. Add remaining 1 tablespoon garlic and sauté 2 minutes. Add chili sauce and sauté 1 minute. Remove chicken from heat. Stir in 3 tablespoons cilantro.  (Can be done up to two days before and stored in an airtight container in the fridge)

To assemble and bake:  Preheat oven to 425°F. Mix mozzarella, Swiss and provolone cheeses in large bowl. Sprinkle cheese mixture, tomatoes, onions, chicken and remaining 3 tablespoons cilantro over pizzas, dividing equally. Bake pizzas until cheese melts, about 8 minutes.


Column – Horseradish

I never knew my great grandfather other than through stories that were told to me by my grandfather when I was a child.  His reputation was that of a resourceful, hardworking man who was a talented gardener and small-time entrepreneur.  He worked for a local university in the agricultural department, but he ran a number of side businesses, most of them based on products he made from the produce that he grew in his yard.  He made dandelion wine and moonshine, preserves and canned vegetables, but his claim to fame was his horseradish.

 My grandfather often told of how he and his brothers and sisters would sit on the wide front porch of his house while they grated the fresh horseradish root with a box grater.  All of his friends would be playing ball and having fun, but there sat my poor grandfather with tears streaming down his face from the fumes of the horseradish root.   Years after he grated his last piece of horseradish, my grandfather was still a bit outraged at the experience.  His horseradish story was his favorite illustration for his grandchildren of just how easy we all had it.  It was our family’s equivalent of the “walking five miles to school every day, barefoot in the snow, and uphill both ways” story.  We, of course, would accuse him of exaggeration, poetic license or outright falsehood.  “Rotten kids,” I can still hear him muttering.  Lovingly, of course.

 Flash forward to a cooking class at Coriander’s about two weeks ago.  This particular class was taught by Josh Johnson of Hampstead Wines, so I had the chance to sit in the back of the class with other the bad kids and enjoy myself.  I found myself sitting next to Jerry Johnson, Josh’s father, who is a delightful man.  In the course of one of the recipes, Josh started talking about horseradish and Jerry turned to me and said, “I hate horseradish.  I will never eat it if I can help it.”  When I asked him why, he started telling me a story about when he was a kid, sitting on the front porch of his house grating horseradish and crying his eyes out from the fumes.  The story as he told it was exactly like my grandfathers, except for the fact that Jerry used a hand-crank grater instead of a box grater.  It doesn’t sound like the advance in technology made the job any less horrible.  When I told Jerry about my grandfather’s version he assured me that, if anything, grandfather was under-exaggerating the pain and suffering that horseradish-grating can cause.

 Fortunately, kitchen grating technology has continued to evolve since Jerry was a kid, and with a food processor it is possible to make very fresh horseradish with relatively few tears.   Fresh horseradish root actually has very little odor at all – until you grate it.  When the plant cells are ruptured, they release a mustard oil which is a powerful irritant to the eyes and sinuses.

 To grate your own horseradish in a food processor, wash and peel the roots and dice it into small cubes. Place the cubes in a food processor jar. Process no more than half a container at a time. Add a small amount of cold water. Add several crushed ice cubes. Put the cover on the food processor. When the root reaches its desired consistency, add white vinegar. Use 2 or 3 tablespoons of white vinegar and 1/2 teaspoon of salt for each cup of grated horseradish.  The time at which you add the vinegar is important. Vinegar stops the enzymatic action in the ground product and stabilizes the degree of hotness.

 When you remove the lid from the food processor, BE VERY CAREFUL not to inhale any of the fumes.  Trust me on this one.  Or trust Jerry and my grandfather.  At the very least, it is a mistake you will make only once.

 Horseradish root is normally harvested in the spring and the fall.  Fall horseradish is supposed to be more pungent, and the fresh the root is, the hotter it will be. 

 Prepared horseradish will loose its power over time, and if it darkens in color it should be thrown out.  Store prepared horseradish in glass jars with a tight-fitting lid in the refrigerator.

 Horseradish is a great condiment for cured or roasted meats, deli sandwiches and is a versatile seasoning that can be added to pasta salads, dips, spreads and soups. 

 Seared Salmon with Sautéed Apples and Horseradish Chantilly
Serves 2
This is one of my favorite ways to eat salmon.  The horseradish Chantilly is a simple sauce that is easy to make and very versatile.

 ½ cup whipping cream
½ cup sour cream
¼ cup prepared horseradish or to taste
3 apples, peeled, cored and sliced
2 tablespoons butter
pinch of kosher salt
2 6-8-ounce fillets of salmon, skin off

 Whip cream until stiff peaks form.  Fold in sour cream and prepared horseradish.  Season with salt and pepper.  Set aside, chilled, until ready to use.

 Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

 In a sauté pan, melt butter until foaming.  Add apples and pinch of kosher salt and sauté apples until they are cooked through.  Set aside and keep warm.

 Season salmon fillets with salt and pepper and spray top thoroughly with cooking spray.  Heat a heavy ovenproof sauté pan over high heat and add salmon to the pan, sprayed side down.  Sear salmon for about two minutes.  Remove pan from heat and spray the exposed side of the fish thoroughly.  Return pan to heat, and flip salmon over and put pan in the oven until fish is done to your liking.

 To serve, put warm apples on a plate, and top with the fish.  Put a dollop of the Chantilly sauce on the fish and pass the rest of the sauce on the side.


Column – Scallops

 This week I’ve got a taste for scallops.  Like most seafood, the quality of the scallops that you buy will have more impact on the taste of your dinner than anything I can teach you to do in a kitchen. 

 Truth is, shopping for seafood requires a rather unique frame of mind.  You may have an idea that you want salmon for dinner, but you must still be prepared to be critical when you look at the seafood display case.  If the salmon looks old, you’ve got to be flexible enough to move on and check out the grouper.  If the grouper is dried out or spotty, examine the tuna.  If the tuna has a rainbow sheen, keep moving (and start considering a trip to another fishmonger!)  But when you start to look at the scallops, you might have some questions about what, exactly, you are looking for. 

 Although there are dozens of species of scallops in the world, American cooks are likely to run across only three species:  sea scallops, bay scallops and calico scallops. 

 Calico scallops are sometimes sold as bay scallops, even though they are smaller,  have less flavor, and are thoroughly cooked during processing.  They look like pencil eracers and have a similar flavor.  This is all you need to know about calico scallops:  Avoid these.

 Bay scallops are smaller than sea scallops, are harvested from October through March.  They’re very expensive and hard to find around in this area, so let’s not worry about learning about bay scallops today, either. 

 So that just leaves us with sea scallops.  Sea scallops are almost always shucked at sea and usually on boats that stay out for up to 10 days, so they are rarely perfectly fresh.  It is common practice to soak them for several hours in a tripolyphosphate solution to plump them up and help preserve them.  This is disastrous if you sautee scallops, because that liquid  runs out when the scallop gets hot, making it impossible for the scallop to brown – instead, they steam in the runoff.  These scallops are called “wetpack” scallops.  They have a shiny appearance and are significantly cheaper than “drypack” scallops.  They also have a somewhat metallic flavor that I find unpleasant.

 “Drypack” scallops have not been soaked and can vary in color from white to ivory to pinkish orange.  They are more expensive and have a shorter shelf life, but the flavor and texture are far superior to the wetpack scallops.  These are my scallops of choice.

 Quick-frozen scallops are frozen immediately after being shucked instead of being kept in a refrigerated ship’s hold for up to 10 days.  Their flavor is superior to wetpack scallops.  If you decide to use frozen scallops, you must defrost them completely before cooking and store them in a pan lined with a kitchen towel to absorb the moisture that they will “sweat” as they defrost.  Dry again with paper towels before cooking.

 A word about frozen scallops:  I usually ask my fishmonger when they defrosted the scallops in the display case, and the answer I get is always “This morning.”  While it’s possible that I just have phenomenal luck and timing, chances are that the person answering the questions isn’t quite sure when the scallops were taken out of the freezer, but they’re pretty sure they know what I want to hear.  If I have to use frozen scallops, I always ask for the ones that are still frozen so that I know for sure that they will be fresh when I want to use them.

 So how do you tell the difference between wetpack, drypack and previously frozen scallops?  The person who sells it to you will know – and if you’re smart enough to ask the question, they’ll probably give you a straight answer.  Also, look at the price.  Chances are pretty good that if the price is low, you’re looking at wetpack.  Move on. 

Scallops size is designated by the number per pound.  U-10 (under 10 per pound) scallops are huge, and one or two scallops per person are usually enough for a large appetizer portion.  For an entrée portion, use three or four U-10’s or six to seven 10/20’s (10 to 20 scallops per pound).

 Sea scallops usually come with a small, hard muscle attached to the side which should be removed before cooking.

 The biggest problem with scallops is overcooking.  These little bivalves dry out and toughen quickly if overexposed to heat.

This is a recipe that we prepared in my most recent cooking class.  The salsa can be made up to three days ahead of time, so it’s just a matter of searing the scallops at the last minute to make a sophisticated and lovely meal.  I usually serve this with tricolor orzo that has been tossed with a little browned butter and lemon juice and some fresh haricot vert or asparagus.

 Seared Scallops with Mediterranean Salsa and White Truffle Oil
Salsa:
            6 roma tomatoes, seeded and chopped
            3/4 cup pitted kalamata or niciose olives, chopped
            1 tablespoon capers
            1/2 cup yellow pepper, small dice
            1/4 cup chopped Italian parsley
            ¼ cup chopped red onion
            1 clove garlic, minced
            2 tablespoons olive oil
Combine thoroughly.  Can be made a day ahead.

 Scallops:
           12 U-10 scallops
            cooking spray
            kosher salt and pepper to taste
            White truffle oil
Make sure scallops are thoroughly dried.  Season scallops with salt, pepper and a pinch of cayenne.  Spray top of scallop thoroughly with cooking spray.

 Heat a 14-inch sauté pan over high heat.  When pan is very hot, add scallops sprayed side down.  Let scallops sear for about 2-4 minutes.  Remove pan from direct heat for a moment so that you can spray the exposed side of the scallop with cooking spray, then return the pan to the heat, flip scallops and sear the other side for about a minute.

 To serve, plate scallops, top with Mediterranean Salsa, and drizzle with truffle oil.

 


Column – Empty Bowls

A few weeks ago I found myself at a gathering of local chefs.  This is a much more unusual event than it might sound.  While all of you folks are out socializing on Friday and Saturday nights, people in the restaurant business tend to be chained to their stoves.  Unless we have worked together in the past or find ourselves in adjoining booths for a charity event, chefs in competing restaurants often don’t get much of a chance to meet.  And the fact that this particular meeting was at nine o’clock on a Wednesday morning just made it that much more odd.  Restaurant people tend to be night owls – so most of us were a bit punchy at that hour.  While I tend to be an early riser, I normally try to avoid any contact with people until closer to ten, and it was pretty obvious that I wasn’t the only one there with that philosophy. 

 I was standing just in front of the door (plotting to slip away as soon as possible) so when Anne Steketee from Port Land Grille walked through the door there was no way she could miss me.  I took one look at the file folder in her hand, and knew instinctively why she was there.  “This is going to cost me money,” I thought as I smiled hello at her.

 Like most business owners, I get hit up for money by so many worthy causes that I have a hard time keeping track.  And like most business owners, I wouldn’t have a business to run if I gave my time and money to every charity out there.  But it was nine o’clock in the morning, people, and I was weak.  I saw that determined look in Anne’s eyes.  I knew I was a goner.

 And I’m glad I was.  Turns out, Anne was looking for donations of soup – and making soup is one of my favorite things to do!  And when the soup is for a worthy cause that is near and dear to my chef’s heart, it doesn’t get much better than that.

 So now I’d like all of you to mark the date of this Friday, March 7 on your calendar for the Empty Bowls Project at St. James Episcopal Church, Perry Hall, at Fourth and Dock Streets in Wilmington to benefit the international project to fight hunger.  For a fifteen dollar donation (higher donations are accepted as well) you will receive a bowl made by a local artisan and soup that is made by a local restaurant.  It’s a great deal for a great cause.  Tickets are available at a number of locations in Wilmington and you can call Good Shepherd Center at (910) 763-4424 for more details.    

 Go ahead, now, buy your tickets!  Don’t make me show up at your house first thing in the morning to convince you. 

 Chicken Gumbo – Gumbo is normally served with white rice, but this soup is so hearty that I usually skip it.  And for those purists who believe that gumbo just isn’t gumbo without okra and file powder, go ahead and add it if you’d like.  For that matter, you can add crawfish, shrimp, crab or any other thing you’d like to it.  Lessez les bon temps rollez!
Makes about 6 quarts

3 sticks butter
3 cups all-purpose flour
2 pounds boneless skinless chicken breast, cut into ¾-inch cubes
2 red bell peppers, diced
2 medium yellow onions, diced
2 stalks celery, diced
5 quarts chicken stock, heated
1 tablespoon paprika
1 teaspoon ground black pepper
1 teaspoon cayenne pepper (or to taste)
1 teaspoon thyme
1 tablespoon chopped garlic
2 bay leaves
Kosher salt to taste
1 pound andouille sausage, sliced 1/2-inch thick (optional)
First you make a roux. Don’t be intimidated, but you don’t want to leave the pot unattended.  Once you start a roux, it can burn in a heartbeat, so once you get all of your ingredients ready to cook and you’re going to start your roux, go ahead and call that chatty friend of yours that you’ve been meaning to catch up with. 

Melt the butter in a 12-quart stockpot. Whisk in the flour and cook until foaming. Cook, stirring often, until the roux is the color of peanut butter, even a little darker if you’d like.  This will take you 20-40 minutes, depending on the BTU’s your stove puts out.

Add the chicken to the roux and cook until it’s lost its raw color on the outside.  Add the peppers, onion, and celery. Cook until the vegetables are soft, about 5 minutes. Whisk in the chicken stock (make sure it’s hot), and bring the mixture to a boil. Reduce the heat to simmer. Stir in paprika, black pepper, cayenne, thyme, chopped garlic, bay leaves, and kosher salt. Cook an additional 45 minutes.  If your gumbo is too thick, add a little water to it.

Add the andouille and cook for approximately 15 minutes. Taste, and adjust for seasoning.


Column - Immigration Can Be Delicious

Like many of you out there, I have been paying close attention to the presidential primaries this election cycle. No matter whose side you're on, I think we can all agree that this has been one of the most dynamic primary seasons in years.

While talking about politics with a friend the other day I realized that my upbringing may have impacted some of my views more than I had been aware of.

I grew up in a melting-pot, middle-middle class suburban neighborhood in New Jersey, where we had a family from Mexico living next door, a recently transplanted family from the deep South across the street and a fair smattering of first- or second-generation Germans, Hungarians, Greek, Irish, French Canadians and more. The parochial school I attended was in a predominantly Italian neighborhood and many of my classmates spoke only Italian at home because their parents didn't speak English. My dad's parents were "off the boat" from Ireland and you could hear it when they spoke. None of that seemed unusual to me as a kid.

The cool thing about this was that these people brought with them their style of cooking. I vividly remember popping through the hedges to Roxanne's house to eat the still-warm tortillas that her mother had made. There was fresh Polish kielbasa, Italian pastries, pierogi, barbecue, red gravy (what we now call marinara sauce), bagels and lox, stuffed cabbage, pastitsio, spaetzle, sauerkraut, rum cake and homemade wine. We had every kind of peasant food you can imagine.

Later, I always seemed to end up living near people who had come from far away. In college, I got to know Indian food from some fellow students from that part of the world, and the scents of ghee and curry bring back some memories of great meals. A college boyfriend's mom was from Greece, and although she wasn't happy about her son dating a non-Greek girl, I had to admit that the woman could cook. After college in Boston, I had a neighbor from Thailand and the flavors and ingredients that they introduced me to just about knocked me out.

My mother and my grandmothers, fabulous cooks all, have been my biggest influences, but I was also greatly influenced by that international cast of characters that were my neighbors.

And while I am not drawing any political conclusions based on the culinary talents of my former neighbors, I don't think anyone should be excluded because their food is too weird, or given preferential treatment because their cuisine is exquisite. But could we get them to leave a recipe? In the interest of international cooperation, of course.

Beth Flaherty is the chef/owner of Coriander's Fine Foods & Catering; e-mail: corianco@aol.com.

Grilled Lamb with Tzatziki
(serves 8-12)

This recipe is very similar to one my old boyfriend's mom made. You can use a grill-pan instead of a charcoal grill.

2 pounds plain yogurt (regular or low-fat)
1/2 cup good olive oil, plus more for brushing grill
Zest of one lemon
1/2 cup fresh lemon juice (about 3 lemons)
3/4 cup fresh rosemary leaves
2 teaspoons kosher salt
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 5-pound boneless leg of lamb, trimmed of fat to the sirloins
Tzatziki (recipe follows)

Combine the yogurt, olive oil, lemon zest and juice, rosemary, salt and pepper in a large, non-reactive bowl. Add the lamb, making sure it is covered with the marinade. Marinate in the refrigerator overnight or up to 3 days.

Bring the lamb to room temperature. Prepare a charcoal grill with hot coals. Scrape the marinade off the lamb, wipe the meat with paper towels and season it generously with salt and pepper. Brush the grill with oil to keep the lamb from sticking, and grill on both sides. Remove to a baking sheet and finish in a 400 degree oven until the internal temperature reaches 125 degrees. Remove lamb to a cutting board, cover with aluminum foil and allow to rest for 20 minutes. Then slice and serve with tzatziki.

For tzatziki (makes 5 cups)
4 cups plain yogurt
2 hothouse cucumbers, unpeeled and seeded
2 tablespoons kosher salt
1 cup sour cream
2 tablespoons white wine vinegar
1/4 cup fresh lemon juice
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 tablespoon minced garlic
1 teaspoon dried dill
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

Place the yogurt in a cheesecloth-lined sieve and set it over a bowl. Grate the cucumber and toss it with 2 tablespoons salt; place it in another sieve and set it over another bowl. Place both bowls in the refrigerator for 3-4 hours so the yogurt and cucumber can drain.

Transfer the thickened yogurt into a bowl. Squeeze as much liquid from the cucumbers as you can and add the cucumbers to the yogurt. Mix in the remaining ingredients.



Column – Barley – Not just for beer anymore.

 In a prior column I expressed my undying love for mashed potatoes.  There probably isn’t a potato preparation on the planet that I wouldn’t have some tender feelings for.  Fry ‘em, bake ‘em, roast ‘em, sauté ‘em – I just love ‘em.  I’ve even had potatoes on pizza (sliced cooked red potatoes with pesto and mozzarella) and it was tres yummy. 

 However, even potatoes will get boring if you eat them every day.  So let’s say that you decide you want a little more variety on your plate.  What are the other options for a starch?  Rice, pasta, bread?  BORING!  Not to mention processed and nutritionally sub par.  So what’s left?  What?  What?  WAIT!

 What about whole grains?  Wild rice, oats, quinoa, bulger wheat, or my favorite, barley.  The nutrition gurus keep telling us that we out to eat more of them.  Now is your chance!

 Barley has a nutty flavor and a satisfying chewiness and, since it has a much lower glycemic index than potatoes or processed starches, it will make you feel full for a longer period of time. 

 Barley’s biggest public relations problem is that it is perceived as a one-dimensional ingredient.  Most people have had barley only in soups or stews, but barley is much better at mutli-tasking than you may have suspected.  It can be added to salads or casseroles for some added depth of flavor, or served as a pilaf or side dish.

 The most common brand of barley that is available locally is Quaker Quick Barley, and I don’t recommend it at all.  It will cook faster than “pearled” barley, but the end result is rather flat in flavor and has a puffy texture that I don’t enjoy.  The next time you make a trip to Harris Teeter or a natural food store, pick up a bag of Arrowhead Mills Organic Pearled Barley.  I’ve got a bag of it sitting in front of me, and as I read over the cooking directions, I’ve noticed that the recipes call for simmering 1 cup of barley in 3 cups of water for 1 ¼ hours.  Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever cooked barley for more than 40 minutes but I prefer it with more of an al dente texture.

 Barley Vegetable Risotto – Serves 4
This delicious and satisfying dish is a great accompaniment to any grilled or roasted meat, especially lamb.

 For the barley:
1 tablespoon butter
¼ cup finely diced onion
1 cup dry white wine
1 ½ cups pearled barley (NOT instant)
4 cups hot chicken stock, plus more as needed

For the vegetables:
2 tablespoons butter
¼ cup chopped shallots
½ cup cleaned and chopped leeks
½ cup finely diced carrot

For finishing:
½ cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese
kosher salt and pepper to taste
2 tablespoons chopped Italian parsley
1 tablespoon butter

 Cooking the barley:  Place chicken broth in a saucepan and bring to a simmer.  Heat another saucepan over high heat.  Add butter.  When butter melts, add onion and sauté for about 5 minutes or until nicely browned.  Add the wine to deglaze the pan and loosen any browned bits of onion.  Simmer until it is reduced by about half, then add the barley and continue stirring for about 2 minutes.  Add hot chicken broth to cover the barley and bring to a simmer.  Simmer for 30-40 minutes uncovered until the barley is tender and fully cooked.  Add more hot stock as needed.

 For the vegetables:  Melt butter in a sauté pan and stir in the shallots, leeks and carrots.  Saute over moderately high heat for a minute or two, until just cooked through, then stir them into the barley and let them simmer together for a moment.

 (This recipe may be cooked to this point up to a day before serving.  When cool, cover and refrigerate.  To reheat, add a little more stock or water and bring up over low heat.)

 Remove the pan from heat and add Parmesan cheese, butter, parsley and salt and pepper to taste. 

 Note to the time-impaired cooks out there:  If you want to make this recipe in one pot, start with sautéing all of the vegetables, including the onion, in the saucepan, then add wine, barley and broth and continue as directed.  Your vegetables won’t have the snap that they will if you do it the long way, but you will still end up with a great meal.


Column –  Bringing Barbecue Inside

 Okay, folks, it looks like we’ve got January just about beat, so I promise to stop complaining about winter weather.  Soon.  As is it, we’re a month past the winter solstice and the days are getting ever so slightly longer and I’m sensing that there may be a light at the end of the tunnel.  So I’m already thinking about barbecue.

 We’re still a few weeks away from thinking about firing up the outdoor smoker, and I’m still too much of a weenie to even think about lighting up the charcoal grill, but there are ways to bring some of that barbecue flavor and feeling inside to warm up the chilly nights.

 Pork is the meat of choice for Q-ers in this part of the world, and rightly so.  And when you’re trying to get dinner on the table in a timely fashion, I recommend that you invest in some pork tenderloin.  They’re lean, they’re easy to cook, and they’re not terribly pricey.  They also don’t have a whole lot of flavor right out of the package, which is why they’re so often sold already marinated:  barbecue, black pepper and lemon or teriyaki.  Those pre-packaged marinades will do alright in a pinch, but they’re overloaded with sodium and, dare I say it, not very imaginative. 

 Pork tenderloin is one of those meats that get better the longer you marinate it and I’ve marinated it as long as three days and as little as two hours.  Now, I’m normally suspicious of recipes that call for you to reserve the marinade and use it as a sauce, but as long as you bring this sauce to a boil for at least a minute, you’ll be just fine – and you’ll be thrilled with the flavor.

 During the colder months, I like to use a ridged grill pan for this recipe.  It’s not often that I’ll come right out and state that you need a certain piece of equipment in your kitchen, but if you haven’t already gone out and invested in a grill pan, I strongly recommend that you do so.  But be careful.  There are a lot of grill pans out there, and some are a waste of money.  And buying the most expensive one on the market just isn’t necessarily the way to go.  So here’s my list of What to Look For in A Grill Pan (And Why):

 1.                   An Ovenproof Handle:  For meat, you don’t necessary use a grill pan like you would a grill.  You want to get the grill pan very hot on the surface of your stove, grill-mark the meat over direct heat, and then transfer the pan with the meat to an indirect heat source – your oven.  If you try to cook a steak, for instance, all of the way through on the stove, you will dry it out.  By going from stove top to oven, you get the best of both cooking methods and a pretty, juicy piece of meat.  But if you buy a grill pan with one of those fancy wood or plastic handles, you’ll have to transfer the meat to another pan before putting it in the oven, which will tempt you to take a short cut and keep it on the stove. 

2.                   Pointy Ridges:   It’s easier to get good grill marks when the ridges in the pan are more narrow and sharp, and the higher the ridges, the less likely that there will be contact between the meat and any fat or liquid that drips into the pan.  The more rounded ridges just don’t seem to mark as well.  Besides, pointy ridges can come in handy in case you ever have to use your grill pan as a defensive weapon – make contact with the ridged side of the pan and you’ll be able to pick out your attacker out of any police lineup with relative ease.

3.                   Not Too Heavy:  This point is particularly important if you have a ceramic cooktop.  When using a grill pan, you want to get the pan very, very hot before adding the meat (again, all those lovely marks) and a cast iron pan is almost overkill in this department.  You can get cast iron much hotter than most other cooking materials, and there is some risk that you can crack a ceramic top if the heat gets trapped between the pan and the burner.  Besides they tend to be a lot more expensive than other grill pans, and, well, heavier.

 The recipe I’m featuring this week is one that was given to me many years ago by Amy Matthews, and it’s been a staple in my repertoire ever since.  It’s easy to make, uses ingredients that I pretty much always keep in my pantry or refrigerator, and it’s a hit every time.

 Sesame Barbeque Pork Tenderloin
2 pork tenderloins, silver skin and excess fat removed
1/2 cup picante sauce
1/3 cup soy sauce
1/4 cup worcestershire sauce
2 tablespoons brown sugar
2 teaspoons garlic, chopped
1 teaspoon dry mustard
1 tablespoon lime juice
2-3 drops dark sesame oil
1/2 teaspoon fresh ginger, minced

 Mix all ingredients together and marinate tenderloins for several hours or overnight in the refrigerator.  Remove meat from marinate.  Reserve marinade. 

 Set your oven temperature to 400 degrees.  Heat a grill pan over high heat until very hot, then lay pork on the diagonal across the grill pan ridges until you get a good sear.  Turn pork and sear on each side.  When each piece is thoroughly marked, move pan to the preheated oven and cook until the internal temperature reads between 140 and 150 degrees.  Remove from oven and let sit for 10 minutes before slicing.   

 Put marinade in a small saucepan and bring to a full boil for three to five minutes.  Serve sauce with pork.


Column:  Chase Away the Winter Blues

 Brrrr.  There’s no denying its winter again.  It was a nice long autumn and right up until New Year’s day we got pretty lucky with the weather, but now it’s gotten to the point where even hard-core former Yankees like myself have to admit that it’s time to put the flip-flops away and dig out those wool socks.  I know, here I go complaining again, but I can’t help but feel that unless you’re actually sitting in front of a crackling fire with a bottle of red wine and someone to snuggle with, cold weather constitutes unnecessary cruelty.

 January is right up there on my list of Least Favorite Months, and it’s not just because it’s chilly outside.  It is also Resolution Month.  You remember on New Year’s Eve, sitting at the bar or around the dining room table with your friends when you were running your mouth about how THIS was going to be THE YEAR?  Well, now it’s time to put your money where your mouth is.  If one of your resolutions was to eat healthier or lose weight, then I mean that in a literal sense.

 That means that you must say good-bye to all of those delicious comfort foods that you would normally be reaching for when the temperatures plummet.  Drop the Paula Dean cookbook and back away quickly.  So long mashed potatoes and gravy, arrivederci fettucine alfredo,  au revoir French fries, ciao chocolate, and say ‘night y’all to the Krispy Kremes.   Adios, sayonara, bye bye.  At least for now.

 To brighten up this bleak culinary outlook, I turn to soups and stews.  They’re easy to prepare, easy on the pocketbook and easy on the waistline.  Again, the legume family comes to my rescue with their stellar reputation for low fat, high fiber, and cholesterol-busting properties.   While black beans are my favorite all-around bean (I wrote a column last year in which I called them the rock stars of the bean world), I also have a great deal of affection for white beans, whether cannelini beans or great northerns.  If black beans are rock stars, white beans are part-time classical musicians.  They’re a little more sophisticated, almost as versatile and definitely as delicious.

 This dish was served to me at a casual dinner get-together, and I fell in love with it.  It’s hearty enough to satisfy, full of great flavor, and yet healthy enough so that you’ll never feel guilty about it.  Sarah served this with a variety of fresh salsas, sour cream, grated cheese, some fresh jalapenos, chopped red onion and tortilla chips.  Just add some great conversation, and you’ll be chasing the winter blues away in no time.

 Sarah’s White Chicken Chili

 2 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 to 1 ¼ cups onion, chopped
1 yellow pepper, chopped
4 cloves garlic, chopped
2 (4-ounce) can chopped mild green chile peppers
4 teaspoons ground cumin
1 teaspoon dried oregano
¼ to ½ teaspoon ground cayenne pepper
2-3 cups chicken broth
3-5 cups cooked shredded chicken breast
3 (15-ounce) cans white beans, drained
2 tablespoons cilantro

 In a blender or food processor, puree one can of beans with about a cup of chicken broth, or if you prefer a low-tech approach, mash then in a bowl with a fork.  Set aside.

 Heat the oil in a large saucepan over medium heat.  Slowly cook the onions and yellow pepper until tender.  Mix in the garlic, green chiles, cumin, oregano and cayenne.  Continue to cook and stir the mixture until tender, about 3 minutes.  Mix in the bean puree, the remaining cans of white beans and shredded chicken.  Add enough chicken broth to just cover.  Simmer about 15 minutes, stirring occasionally.  Add cilantro just before serving.


Column – New Year’s Traditions and Rationalizations

 New Year’s Eve is one of those holidays I’m a little bit ambiguous about.  I love the fact that it brings a celebratory close to a holiday season that seems to be starting earlier and earlier every year.  By the time December 31 rolls around I am eager for a new start in a new year.  I’m also more in the mood to put my feet up and let my hair down than to get dressed up and party.

 Forgive me for sounding a little grumpy about New Year’s but I do have just cause.  Here’s the real reason:  It’s the herring.  You heard me right.  Herring.  Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve had to choke it down as my first food of the year.  Family tradition.  “Just a little bite,” I can still hear Mom-Mom saying.  With tears in my eyes I would do my best – but my best often let to me spitting out a half-chewed wad of pickled fish.  Gross, I know.  Imagine how I feel.

 Eating the herring is supposed to ensure that you have money in your pockets for the entire coming year, which I think we will all agree is a good thing.  I’m rather fond of money and enjoy the things you can do with it.  However, every New Year’s Eve of my life, at 11:59, I have to stop grazing from what is usually a delicious and well-prepared buffet of fabulous hors d’oeuvres, tempting savories and beautifully presented desserts, so that I can ask myself “How long can you put it off?”

 I’m a pretty adventuresome eater and I won’t turn my nose up at something without trying it, but that’s not the case here.  For those of you who love it, please don’t take offense.  Everyone has their preferred foods and foods they can’t stand.  To me, herring is a vile substance; fishy, oily, slightly hairy, yuk. 

 It seems unfair to me that this tradition is so strict that you have to eat the herring before you get to eat anything else.  There was one year when I tried to bribe myself by putting out a slice of chocolate cake and a slug of Gran Marnier and told myself that I could NOT have the cake until I ate the herring.  That year I managed to totally outsmart myself and skipped the herring completely. 

 The rest of my family, of course, adores herring and can’t understand why I have such a problem with it.  Every New Year’s Day I get the calls, “Well, didja eat it?”  Most years I have to admit that once again I will be poor and it is my own fault because I was too weak to overcome the herring.

 As a chef, you would think that I could find a way to make herring edible, if not appetizing, but I’m afraid it is a culinary challenge that I am not up to.  It simply isn’t an ingredient I’m capable of working with.  And I would be lying if I told you I gave it my best shot. 

 As this New Year’s Eve approaches, I did some research as to the background of other traditional New Year’s foods and was bewildered to find out that my family had been practicing a tradition that was Scandanavian!  I had always assumed that this was a legacy passed down from the Hungarian side of the family, then discovered in my research that, for the Hungarians what you don’t eat is actually more important than what you do eat.  After years of feeling that I had betrayed my family’s custom, a great weight was lifted from my shoulders.

 Feeling somewhat confused and a little triumphant, I called my Mom and explained to her that the herring thing wasn’t a Hungarian tradition after all.  “Oh no, honey,” she replied, “It’s a Scandanavian thing your great-grandparents picked up from some neighbors of theirs back in New Jersey.”  I was aghast.  “So all these years you watched me try to gag down some herring with tears in my eyes you knew it wasn’t a family tradition?”  “Well, what’s a family tradition, after all?  Your parents, your grandparents, your great-grandparents.  I think three generations is pretty good.”  “But what about the Hungarian thing?”  I asked. 

 As I mentioned earlier, there are two types of food are to be avoided on New Year’s Day,  but it turns out Mom only knew half of the story. “You can’t eat chicken on New Year’s Day,” Mom told me today, “or you’ll be scratching for money all year round.”  I would swear I’d never heard that before.  “And if you eat fish, you’re money will swim away,” I told her.  Silence on the other end of the phone (very rare with my mom, by the way).  “Well.  I never heard that part.”  “Mom, you know what herring is?  It’s a FISH!” 

 So all this time I have been practicing a Hungarian tradition by NOT eating the herring!

 And thus, another great rationalization was born.

 This year, for the first time in my life, I will be guiltlessly herring-free and prepared to embrace any tradition I feel like.

 This year, I’m thinking Italian.  The Italians eat lentils on New Year’s Day (anytime during the day!) because lentils look like little coins. 

 Lentil Soup with Lamb and Mint
Makes 10-12 cups 

2 tablespoons olive oil
1 pound lamb — ground lamb or lamb leg cubes
3 large celery stalks, chopped
2 large parsnips, peeled & chopped
1 medium onion, chopped
1 tablespoons chopped fresh garlic
1 pound lentils
9 cups beef or chicken broth
3.5 cups canned diced tomatoes in juice (or 1 28-ounce can)
1 tablespoon ground cumin
1/2 cup chopped fresh mint, divided

 Heat oil in heavy large pot over medium high heat.  Add lamb, celery, parsnips, onion and garlic.  Sauté until vegetables are almost tender and lamb is cooked through and beginning to brown, about 15 minutes.  Add lentils and stir one minute.  Add 7 cups broth, tomatoes and cumin.  Bring soup to a boil.  Reduce heat to medium low.  Cover and simmer until lentils are tender, about 40 minutes.

 Transfer 2 cups soup to blender, add 1/4 cup mint and puree until smooth; return to same pot.  Season soup with salt and pepper and add broth to thin if desired.  Ladle into bowls.  Sprinkle with remaining mint.

 


Column - I Left My Artichoke Hearts in San Francisco

I took a quick mid-week trip out to the west coast recently and visited San Francisco.  It’s always been one of my favorite cities to hang out in, but I hadn’t found an excuse to do so in years.  An old friend who is now living out there called me up and enticed me with a Bruce Springsteen ticket, which is something you should never do to a girl from New Jersey unless you mean it.  Three days later I was on a plane.

 I still know quite a few people who live out in that area, but all of them work during the day, so I was left to my own devices.  That suited me just fine.  I love being on my own in a big city.  I walked for miles, poked my head into little shops, reading restaurant menus in the windows of sophisticated bistros and rediscovering neighborhoods I hadn’t even thought about in years.  I had no map, no guidebooks, no schedule. 

 If you have the right attitude, you can’t get lost in even the most unfamiliar of cities.  You might not have any idea where you are or how to get back to your hotel, but as long as you can catch a cab somewhere you’ll be okay.  I wandered down Market Street towards the waterfront for a while until I came to a beautiful open-air market where you could buy art directly from the person who had created it.  This isn’t a special event – it was just a random Thursday morning.  I left the market considerably poorer, but with a spring in my step.

 That’s when I came to the Ferry Building.  The last time I’d been in the area was long before the building renovation had been completed four years ago.  I thought it would be kind of fun to watch the ferries, so I opened the door and walked in, not knowing that my life was about to change.

 The Ferry Building is a foodies’ paradise.  The first stall I came to was the Far West Fungi booth (www.farwestfungi.com) where they had the largest variety of fresh mushrooms I’d ever seen in one place, and both domestic and imported dried mushrooms.  I picked up a two-pound bag of Italian porcini mushrooms which I just couldn’t leave behind.  I moved on to the Cowgirl Creamery, which was started by two very highly regarded female chefs and features some fantastic cheeses made in Point Reyes Station.  The Prather Ranch Meat Company (www.prmeatco.com) was offering a great selection of its dry-aged beef, pork, lamb, buffalo and vitellone (sometimes known as “red veal”).  All of the meats are free range and antibiotic and hormone-free.  Their motto is “Organic, Sustainable, Humane.”   The San Francisco Fish Company (www.sanfranfishco.com) had a beautiful display of local fish, oysters, crabs and shrimp and I like their “Get Wild Manifesto.”  Everywhere I looked in this building were thriving businesses dedicated to keeping their products organic, sustainable and delicious.   I had to go out and watch the ferries just to get my composure back! 

 The only dark cloud on my personal horizon at that moment was that I was three-thousand miles from my stove, and I was pretty sure the airline wasn’t going to let me bring a peck of oysters back in my suitcase.  However, pretty much all of these places will ship their products, and my holiday plans do include shipping some treats to myself for entertaining purposes. 

 And I’ve got all of those lovely porcinis to play with!

  Porcini Mushroom and Goat Cheese Pizza

You can’t beat this recipe for quick and easy entertaining.  I’ve usually got all of the ingredients on hand to make this in case folks stop by unexpectedly.  Make sure you stop by the Farmer’s Market at Porter’s Neck on Wednesdays to pick up some Nature’s Way Goat Cheese.

1 Boboli bread shell, or prepared, cooked pizza dough
¼ cup dried porcini mushrooms
1 cup boiling water
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 shallot, chopped
2-3 tablespoons marsala wine
1 tablespoon fresh basil, chopped
4 ounces goat cheese

 Heat over to 400 degrees.

 Pour boiling water over porcini mushrooms and let set 10-15 minutes.  Remove mushrooms from soaking liquid and rinse under cold water.  Be sure to remove any sediment from the ‘shrooms.  Chop mushrooms roughly and set aside.  Pour soaking liquid through a coffee filter to remove any grit from the liquid.  Set liquid aside.

 Heat oil in a medium sauté pan and add shallot.  When shallot turns translucent, add chopped mushrooms and sauté for two or three minutes.  Add wine to deglaze the pan.  Simmer for a few minutes, adding some of the soaking liquid if the mixture gets too dry.  Remove from heat and add basil.

 Spread mixture on the bread shell and top with crumbled goat cheese.  Put in the pre-heated oven and heat for about 8 minutes.  Remove from oven, slice it up and serve warm.  


Column – Mashed Potatoes

 Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday.  While other holidays may have some emphasis on food, no other festivity has eating as its central focus.  There is no need to buy gifts or decorate the house, no eggs to hide or candy to give out.  Sure, there are sports and parades, but you don’t really have to pay attention to them if you don’t want to. Thanksgiving is all about making a big meal and gathering those you love around to help you eat it.  The only way you could improve on that scenario, in my opinion, is to add fourth of July’s fireworks after dessert.   And by then I would probably be too sleepy to enjoy them.

My family members are Thanksgiving traditionalists, so we have eaten basically the same food for Thanksgiving that we did when I was five.  My mother and I have learned the hard way that any changes to the menu have to be made very carefully and with great sneakiness.  There was one year when Mom decided to introduce a soup course to the meal.  She made a delicious butternut squash soup and presented it beautifully at the table in a soup tureen she’d gotten for the occasion;  but my brothers and father had their eye on the turkey, stuffing and side dishes that were ready and waiting.  They couldn’t understand why they had to wait even one more minute for the meal they’d waited all year for.  I don’t believe anyone at that table was under twenty, but they immediately turned into a pack of whiny little boys and their rallying call was “DON’T MESS WITH THANKSGIVING, MOM!” Mom stood her ground long enough to make sure everyone at least tasted the soup, then graciously brought on the main event.  She’s my hero.

 A typical Thanksgiving menu for my family includes the turkey, of course, with a sausage stuffing, gravy, creamed onions, fresh cranberry sauce, whipped turnips, green bean casserole (yes, the one made with the canned onions on top and cream of mushroom soup – it’s a little embarrassing, but there’s not a thing I can do about it), and mashed potatoes.  Before the meal is served, we nibble at a relish tray with stuffed celery and olives.  Dessert, of course, includes a choice or combination of apple pie, pumpkin pie and chocolate bourbon pecan pie.  Mom and I have figured out by trial and error that we can add almost anything to the menu, as long as we don’t try to delay the meal or replace anything on this somewhat sacred list.  Any blatant delay or replacement attempt will end in an uprising.

 The stuffing recipe is my grandmother’s, and the year I replaced it with a cornbread and sausage stuffing with pecans I heard rumbles of discontent at the table.  The only way I averted a full-blown revolution was by insisting that I must have remembered the recipe wrong.  My family is pretty fair-minded in that respect.  If they thought I’d done it deliberately, there would have been hell to pay, but since I’d just made a little mistake they let me get away with it.  It helped that my grandmother’s written recipes are notoriously vague.  Of course, I’ve been making the stuffing my way ever since, and I haven’t heard another word about it.

 The only menu item I actively dislike are the turnips.  I’ve been trying unsuccessfully to delete or change them ever since I can remember.  It doesn’t help that it’s always been my job to make them.  I tried “forgetting” to buy them one year, but one of my brothers volunteered to make a last minute run to the only open supermarket, and I was stuck.  That’s what I get for trying to use the same trick more than once.

 Out of everything on the table, the one I’m most thankful for are the mashed potatoes.  I know -- it’s not like you can’t get mashed potatoes on any of the other 364 days of the year, but to me, Thanksgiving mashed potatoes are the best ones.  Over the years, I’ve become a bit of a mashed potato purist and have honed my technique for perfect, fluffy, buttery mashed potatoes every time instead of getting the occasional pot of gluey mess. 

 My mother brought me up to use a hand-mixer to mash the drained potatoes.  Sometimes it worked and sometimes it didn’t.  In order to make perfect mashed potatoes it is imperative that you have either a food mill or a potato ricer, and that you leave the potatoes in the hot water until just before you process them.  It’s a lot more time-consuming and messy, but it’s so worth it if you’re a mashed potato aficionado.

 At Coriander’s, we typically go through about 100-150 pounds of mashed potatoes for our Thanksgiving pick-up menu.  And yes, we take the time and trouble to make them this way because they are Perfect. Every.  Time.

 As for the mashed potatoes ever being replaced on my family Thanksgiving menu – no way!  DON’T MESS WITH MY MASHED POTATOES, MOM! 

 Perfect Mashed Potatoes
Serves 4

 3 pounds russet potatoes
¼ stick of butter, or to taste
splash of heavy cream
kosher salt to taste
black pepper to taste

 Special equipment:
              
Food mill or potato ricer
                Skimmer or large slotted spoon

 Peel the potatoes and cut into 2- to 3-inch cubes.  Place in a heavy-bottomed pot.  Cover with cold water and bring to a boil.  Reduce heat and simmer for 20-30 minutes or until potatoes are tender.  Remove from heat, but do not drain.

 Place food mill over a bowl.  Cut butter into 4-6 pieces and put in bowl.  Using a skimmer or slotted spoon, lift potatoes out of water and place in food mill or ricer.  (You will want to let the potatoes drain slightly before placing them in the mill so that your mashed potatoes aren’t soupy.)

Mill the hot potatoes over the butter, then stir in a splash of cream, salt and pepper.  Serve hot, or chill and reheat on the stove or in the microwave just before serving.


October 28, 2007 - The Beet Goes On

I was sitting around the dinner table with some friends the other night when the subject of beets came up.  The consensus was that beets are an inedible food substance which no one at the table had any fondness for.  Mike even went so far as to say that beets were what you would have to eat for all eternity should you be so unfortunate as to land in hell in the afterlife.  No one else was willing to go quite that far, but no one contradicted him either.

 There wasn’t a soul at that dinner party who had voluntarily eaten a beet within the last twenty years, and I don’t believe anyone had ever been offered a beet that wasn’t pickled or jarred. 

 For most of my life, I would have joined these friends of mine in excoriating the lowly beet, but I’ve recently had my mind and palate challenged by a young and very talented friend of mine who teaches the Food and Wine Pairing Classes for me at Coriander’s.  Josh is the proprietor of Hampstead Wines and is a graduate of the CIA (that’s the world-renowned Culinary Institute of America, not the notorious spy agency, of course.).  For a recent class, he had decided to cook a dish that included roasted beets.  Although I have a great deal of respect for Josh’s creativity, I was more than just a little bit skeptical.  Our conversation went something like this:

 Me:  But Josh, beets are gross.  (Please note the use of complicated culinary terms here.)

 Josh:  No they’re not. 

 Me:  Yes they are.

 Josh:  I’m using them anyway.

 Me:  (Pause)  Okay.

 I’ve included that exchange because I know how much you all enjoy kitchen drama.  As you can see, Gordon Ramsey has nothing on me when it comes to terrorizing the kitchen help. 

 To prepare the beets, Josh cut off the stem end and washed the beets thoroughly.  He tossed the beets with some olive oil, kosher salt and cracked black pepper, then wrapped them in aluminum foil and roasted them in a 350 degree oven until they were tender.  To ascertain the degree of tenderness he simply poked the beets with a paring knife.  It took about an hour to an hour and a half.  Now this part is genius:  After letting the beets cool enough so that they were easily handled, he took a kitchen towel and rubbed the skin off of the beets.  The skin came off so easily that it took an effort of will for me not to look impressed. 

 The dish Josh prepared was a seared lamb rack with fresh creamed corn, roasted beets and basil oil.  The earthiness of the beets was the perfect contrast to the sweet corn, and I was looking at beets in a completely different new light by the time I finished my portion. I even snuck a few more forkfuls while carrying the pots back to the dish room.  I was chomping at the bit to get my hands on some more beets and see what I could do with them.

 I’ve started sneaking beets into tasting menus that I do for clients, and I am completely stunned that I have not yet had a plate returned to me that still had a beet on it.   So Mike better be careful the next time I’m invited over for dinner. 

 My favorite beet creation so far is a tribute to Jitterbug Perfume, a novel by Tom Robbins which has been on my Top 100 Books list for years.  In it, Robbins waxes poetic about beets (yes, beets!) and it was that book which inspired me to add a citrus note to the following recipe.

 Roasted Beets with Caramelized Onion Vinaigrette and Feta Cheese
This is a great side dish for just about any roasted meat, but I am particularly fond of it with lamb or duck.  (Of course that may be because I am particularly fond of lamb and duck.)

2 pounds fresh beets, prepared as explained above
2 tablespoons cider vinegar
1 teaspoon coarse Dijon mustard
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
3/4 teaspoon kosher salt
1 teaspoon orange zest
5 tablespoons olive oil
1 lb onions (2 medium), quartered lengthwise, then cut crosswise into 1-inch pieces
3 oz crumbled feta (1/2 cup)
1/4 cup pine nuts (1 oz), toasted

Whisk together vinegar, mustard, pepper, and 1/2 teaspoon salt in a large bowl, then add 3 tablespoons oil in a slow stream, whisking until combined well.  Set aside.

Cook onions with remaining 1/4 teaspoon salt in remaining 2 tablespoons oil in a 12-inch heavy skillet over moderate heat, stirring occasionally, until golden brown, 18 to 20 minutes. Add onions to dressing.  Toss beets with dressing (beets can be warm or cold, but warm is yummier) then sprinkle with feta and pine nuts.