Noshing Out – Best.Salad.Bar.Ever.

The elevator dings open to the 12^th floor of Macy’s in downtown Minneapolis. Down the hall, I can hear the clatter of plates and utensils and the dull roar of a crowded room, full of conversations. Christmas carols tinkled above the din from a live pianist. After a short wait, my former roommate and I are escorted through the room to our small table. Colored in white, gray, and silver, the room has a high ceiling and bright, wide windows. Despite the cloudy day, the entire room feels well illuminated. 

We equip ourselves with white plates and black trays and make our way down the line.

Every container is surrounded by ice and is refilled quickly by the white-clad staff. The first thing that struck me about the salad bar was the lettuce varieties. Romaine, field greens, and arugula were options, but iceberg was absent. Following was the standard slew of toppings from shredded carrots to beets, but after I noticed the plethora of dressings. Over a dozen sat in tall plastic bottles, but there was also a tray filled with a house made blue cheese, complete with actual chunks that melted into the creaminess of the rest of the dressing, a smooth counterpoint to the various crunches from that salad.

The options continued with an assortment of meats. Shredded chicken, ham, and mini shrimp were added to my now loaded plate. Salad ended with pre-made salads with noodles, quinoa, and potatoes, but there was still five separate soups to try before checkout. This entire array set’s one back less than $10, and you can go back and refill to your heart’s content.

With a selection that large, it’s easy to overfill the plate, creating a panoply of flavors that no longer harmonize. My personal favorite combination had a base or arugula and field greens, providing a slightly bitter under note. Topping the greens were beets and dried cranberries for sweet and tart components, shredded chicken for body, chopped almonds for a different kind of crunch, and the aforementioned blue cheese dressing for a creamy and slightly pungent finish. The butternut squash bisque I preferred was a smooth and buttery (without being heavy from cream) pair to the plate.

However, the purpose of the lunch was not to stuff my face with as much vegetation as I could, but rather to catch up with an old friend, which we did, sharing stories and adventures from our lives over the past six months since we last met. Were I a downtown Minneapolis worker, Macy’s Skyroom would certainly be a go-to spot.

Graham’s Gastronomy – The holiday spirit wrapped in a corn husk

The holidays mean many things to many people. However, I believe that regardless of faith (or lack thereof), ethnicity, or background, everyone enjoys getting together with friends (and for some, family) over good food. Last Sunday was the annual tamale making party hosted by a dear friend of mine. Food forward friends came, arms full of margarita making concoctions and sumptuous sides.

The real work had been done in advance by the hostess, a pulled pork in chile sauce ready to go. Having dawned her apron and rolled up her sleeves, she dove in, elbows deep into corn masa. This particular variety is made from hominy, mixed with an alkaline solution, cooked, steeped, washed, then ground (thanks Wikipedia). I poured the brown/red juices into the white/yellow meal, gradually thinning the paste. With a hypnotic repetition of mixing, the masa took on a pinkish hue and a smoky smell. With a taste, a satisfied chef summoned the cooking compatriots, lining us up to fill the husks.

Spatulas slapped masa into the dried corn case, spreading the paste to the edges, leaving enough room for the fold. These were handed down to the fillers, adding a dollop of the chile infused pork, another pass added an olive, and the final station folded and placed the resulting packing into the steamer basket. The whole while, margaritas and wine glasses were refilled, jokes were made, and artificially heavy critiques on “proper form” were given.

Like a Japanese rice ball, we unwrapped the leaves, steam wafting up from the now cooked tamales. The aroma of corn mixed  with the spices from the peppers and the robustness of the meat. The masa had firmed, but was still soft, providing a creamy background that matched the shredded pork.

The comradery continued, even into cleanup as guests left with a few extra tamales of their own, another part of our gracious hostesses’ tradition. 

Graham’s Gastronomy - Love is Breakfast

It starts as a low-volume chime. As the seconds pass, the beeping becomes higher pitched, louder, and more obtrusive. Roused from sleep, I lean over, half blindly groping for my phone to dismiss the alarm. “Time to make the donuts…” my girlfriend whispers in my ear, kissing me good morning. That’s funny, because unlike me, she doesn’t wake up hungry.

The other day, we attended a party bringing a mulled cider. We juice the apples ourselves, autumn’s bounty still filling my fruit bowl. Auburn liquid removed, the catch basin of my juicer was filled with the pulp of what until recently where red, green, and yellow orbs of crunchy goodness. To many, this is trash, to some, compost, to others, dog food, to me, another ingredient.

Moist mash plopped into the mixing bowl with a wet splat. An egg provided moisture and with flour, became a binder, oatmeal for body and heartiness, a pinch of salt to heighten the flavor, and just a splash of milk to bring the dough together. The evenly spread mixture transformed from dough to confection under the 350⁰ heat coils of my toaster oven. A tiny slice popped into my mouth, the oatmeal had toasted nicely, but without the juice, the apple flavor wasn’t as pronounced. Cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger, brown sugar, these spices are typically used with apple concoctions, but with the seasonal fare, my palate is growing weary of that combination. A remembrance of The Big E brought inspiration. A layer of apple butter provided the intense fruit flavor, while thin slices of reserve cheddar brought sharpness, salt, and creamy tastes. Back under the broiler, the cheese melted and toasted, sealing the spread adding another flavor of blistered nuttiness.

Wrapped in foil, my “NutriGraham” bar slid into her backpack, another culinary token of my affection.

Foods From Afar – Deck the Halls at Seneca Lake

The fall foliage has given up its colorful cloak, leaving the trees gray skeletons of their former selves. From early Friday morning, London and I drove west under a gunmetal sky. Our destination was the middle of the Western shore Seneca Lake for the Annual “Deck the Halls” Wine Festival. Participants purchase passes that allow a wine tasting, paired with a small bite, along with an ornament to adorn an accompanying wreath at each of the 35 participating wineries. At every stop, we were usually allowed 3-5 tastes in addition to the sweet or dry parings with the food, meaning in total, we have approximately 350 wines to taste over the course of three days. Cheers to that!

The Fingerlakes Wine Region has a unique beauty. Slowly slanting hills escalate from both sides of the lakes. From the North, one cannot see the Southern tip, but you can easily see the West side from the East. At this time of year, the grapes have already been harvested, so the vines are bare, still trussed in manicured rows. Most wineries along the trail boast broad views from decks and windowed vistas where we took a picturesque reprieve from the bustle of the tasting rooms.

There are a few grape varietals that appear more commonly on menus in the Finger Lakes than other places. One such, Cayuga, a hybrid of Schuyler and Seyval Blanc, produces a balanced acidic white wine. The bright, lemon or white grapefruit flavors moderate the sweetness. Wines made from Cayuga are usually served chilled, and the medium mouthfeel could stand up to fish, or for me, enjoyed in warmer months with sun and a grill.

Even if we split the task evenly, and even if we spat out every wine we sipped (we did neither), the tumult of tasting will tire even the toughest taste buds. There were however, some memorable highlights to the weekend. Three Brothers was our favorite winery. They feature four separate experiences. We moved from Passion Feet, a down-to-earth barn environment with fruity, sweet wines, to Stony Lonesome, more traditional, almost an Italian feel room with granite countertops presenting dryer and more complex wines, to Bagg Dare, an Appalachian back yard with rusting car parts and wood pallets decorating the walk, pouring semi-sweet wines and back woods vibes, finally War Horse Brewing, all 1950’s WWII “We can do it!” and “We want you!” posters with hard ciders and on-tap beers.

While there were many delicious wines, the one that stood out the most for us was served hot. The mulled wine was a combination of red and white house wines, mulling spices, brown sugar, and a splash of brandy. Spices lit up my nose as I swirled the wine in my glass. Initial sweetness came as expected, but the light burn from the brandy hit he back of my palate, evening it. The liquid felt thick in my mouth and left a warming trail down my chest as I swallowed.

The entire weekend was an intoxicating soiree. We accomplished sampling every winery on the list, collecting ornaments and memories from each, and wine from a select few.

Graham’s Gastronomy – The Inevitable End of a Jack-o-lantern

The breeze that only a month ago cooled, now chills as you walk down the street. On front porches, the wilting, orange forms of carved faces beckon the change of seasons. The poor, mangled vegetation sits in wait to become either food for local fauna, garbage, or worst, a splatter on the street. These ash-encrusted pumpkins have lost their culinary value, but my former jack-o-lantern, lit with a flashlight, now lies in pieces, at 400⁰, and lightly slathered in butter and salt.

                To me, pumpkins are the harbinger of fall. The ubiquitous use in coffees and baked goods, more often than not as a flavored syrup, only serves to dilute the delicate nature of the gourd (although those that know me have seen me guilty of ordering the sugar and spice laden latte). A cloud of steam fogged my glasses as I opened the oven door to reveal the roasted slices. Having cut them smaller, the numerous edges had caramelized, which would provide a darker color and richer flavor to the final product. As I scooped the flash from the peel, the pumpkin had become soft and pliable in my hands, but not sticky or gunky. The work bowl of my food processor was filled and emptied multiple times as the blades rended the cooked flesh into an unctuous puree. As though I was baking cookies, I couldn’t help but sample the supple, dark orange pulp the stuck to the spatula.

                It was intentional, leaving out spices from the cooking process, as I wanted as pure of a pumpkin flavor as I could to leave open as many culinary doors as possible. To this end, not all of the former jack-o-lantern was pureed. I was challenged to compose a pumpkin salsa, and so the slices destined for that dish were removed early and cubed. Crisp apple played the role of tomato and sweet onion was substituted for white or yellow. The subtlety sweet pumpkin brought more of its vegetative nature to the mix, the entire salsa having a crunch akin to a slaw which topped shredded chicken for dinner.

                The next morning, the puree was dolloped into a bowl and whipped with two eggs, milk, cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger and a dash of salt. The resulting thick, yellow-brown soup smelled of bread potential, but that would be another day. Once the pad of butter’s sizzling aroma turned nutty in the hot pan, the egg mixture was poured evenly in. With the slow wrist rotation of omelet creation, the concoction congealed and with a flip, the frittata was finished. A spoonful of honey-infused greek yogurt graced the center, it’s cool, creamy, tart flavor contrasting with the heavy, spiced pumpkin. Both mingled and melted in my mouth as I melted into the couch, lounging in a weekend breakfast.

                I was inspired by the egg and pumpkin combination, so for dessert the next day, I used the creamy fat from eggs yolks with the literal creamy fat of half and half to make a crème brulee. After the dairy had finished cooling from its steep in spices, it was combined with pumpkin, sugar, and egg yolks. Soupier than before, I was tempted to dip bread into the mixture, foregoing the custard in favor of another breakfast, but the 300⁰ oven with a water bath won out. After 30 minutes of cooking and another 30 of cooling, I dusted the shimmering skin of the custard with sugar. I find the ‘click’ and ‘fwoom’ sound of a culinary torch satisfying, so to the hissing of the bubbling, caramelizing, sugar. Once allowed to harden, my spoon penetrated the surface with the accompanying distinct crack. I could feel the smallest slivers of pumpkin through the silky crème along with a slight crunch from the burnt sugar as my tongue pressed against the roof of my mouth. Who knew that ghastly face would eventually bring a grin to mine?

Nosh Out – NYCFWF

For the past five years, in the middle of October, I hop on a bus and head to New York City for the annual Food Network Food and Wine Festival. A fundraiser to support No Child Hungry, local chefs, restaurants, wine distributors, along with Food Network Stars donate their time, skills, and food for the enormous four day affair. There are dozens of events from sit down dinners, seminars and instructional classes to walk around tastings and late night parties. My weekend started Friday night at the Blue Moon Burger Bash.

This event is iconic, hosted by Rachel Ray. Burgers of all grinds, meats, and toppings were paired with seasonal beers and wines. To be honest, after a while, the fat-ladden, rich ground meat became difficult to distinguish. What set burgers apart from one another was the toppings and pairings. My personal favorite was a dry aged burger with maple bacon and bone marrow béarnaise from Saxon + Parole. “I wanted something that was unctuous on the tongue, but wasn’t cheese.” said the Chef. The marrow was pureed in a food processor before adding the egg yolks, giving it a smooth texture. The maple bacon added a crunch (it was cooked crispy like it should) and a salty sweet component. The burger itself was actually playing second fiddle, providing a smoky and filling portion to the mouthful. Delicious.

Saturday was the biggest event by far, The Grand Tasting. The gastronomic extravaganza takes up all of Pier 92, with so many food, wine, and spirit samples, it would be almost impossible to try them all. Grocery stores, food purveyors, restaurants, and alcohol distributors all man tables from 11-6 on both Saturday and Sunday. With business cards, menus, coupons, and samples splayed out before them, it was a foodie’s dream come true. While the variety of things to try is unparralled, there are some unique bites that stand out, namely the “chicken oyster” from Earth at Hidden Pond. Chef Justin Walker took chicken breast and cooked it with black squid ink, creating a jet black bite swimming in a sauce made with buttermilk and isot chile. The inky morsel sat atop sliced green tomatoes and was topped with sesame seeds, the green, black, and white creating a perfect Halloween mouthful.

Food Network wasn’t the only channel represented. From the same network, Travel Channel brought their star power to bear at Top Dog, a hot dog competition at The Highline on little West 12^th. Andrew Zimmern and Adam Richman were present to chew through the variations on the New York icon. Celebrating 200 episodes of Bizarre Foods, Andrew made an impassioned speech about food bringing people together, creating a common thread. His words truly resonated with me as cuisine is often the way I bond with not only friends and family, but other people and other cultures as well. The dog that had its day was my personal favorite, a brat, cooked to the point of the casing just snapping open, topped with a spicy giardiniera relish, whole grain mustard, and served with a briny, quick cured pickle, it combined smoky, spicy, crunchy and sour with a slight Italian flare uncommon to a usual Sabarette hot dog stands.

Later that night was Pork and Pints, hosted by Robert Irvine, but check my YouTube Channel to see some of the best bites from that event.

Food From Afar - Inca Trail

Vacations are often to get away from it all, to rest, relax, and replenish the body and mind. My idea of a vacation is to load a backpack with approximately 40 pounds of gear and hike for four days along the same path the Incas used as part of their spiritual journey to Machu Picchu. The trek began at 9,200ft altitude at 88 km checkpoint. We started out around 7:30 in the morning, while the porters, carrying the food, cooking appliances, and tents, were still organizing their equipment. We soon learned that these unassuming farmers possessed serious athletic ability, as they would pass us from checkpoint to checkpoint, readying and taking down the campsites. Much of the trail remains original Incan construction, so in an effort to preserve it, only 500 people are allowed per day onto the trail, only 200 of which are tourists. Checkpoints along the way along with steep cliffs, cloud forest, and Andean Mountains prevent would-be trail crashers.

The majesty of the Andean Mountains is difficult to describe in words. Rather than being a single range, it looks like enormous mounds, covered in scrub, or jungle, or shear rock faces, were arranged at random next to each and seem to go on forever. The Inca trail itself describes a tiny line along their facades, passing at its zenith, Dead Woman’s Pass at 13,829 ft. a feat my group of six trekkers, two guides, and seven porters achieved on day two of the hike. Incan ruins periodically appeared from the forest or fog, displaying terraced gardens amongst stone and mortar construction. Just the thought of hauling that amount of materials up the slopes of these mountains was daunting.

After hours of breathtaking scenery, we came upon our campsites. The porters-turned-cooks had already constructed the eating tents and set the table. Dinners were always prefaced by tea time, where we sipped coca tea and munched on freshly made popcorn. Lunch or dinner, we were perpetually amazed at the quantity, plating, and quality of Peruvian food that was created from little more than a camp stove. Carrots, cauliflower, peas, onions, potatoes, corn, and pasta/rice were present at almost every meal. These were often presented in a variety of combinations, a fried rice with peas onions and carrots, a mashed potato topped with boiled corn, we even had a few “pizzas” made with a mashed, then fried potato base and topped with vegetables and queso andines.

Every meal was also accompanied by a protein. Peru is not known for its cuts of beef, and considering the conditions, I wasn’t expecting a seared rare fillet. That said, the chicken dishes were clean and flavorful, often using the carrots, onions, and celery along with tomato in different quantities to create a vegetable puree, sauce, or filling. We were happy to know that the enormous portion sizes were intentional, as the porters ate what we did not.

While dessert was often another round of coffee or tea before we crawled, exhausted, back into our tents, we were not without dessert. On two different evenings we enjoyed a warm, soft-set jello, the first flavored with a peach syrup, the second with purple corn, giving it an almost berry flavor. They say “hunger is the best spice,” but much of the food on the trail would be delicious anytime.

Our trek concluded on the fourth day, as we met the sunrise at the sun gate, overlooking Machu Picchu. Our group, along with the others who had made their way across the ancient path, shrugged off our bags for pictures of elated celebration at our achievement.

Food from Afar - Cusco

About an hour plane ride away, Cusco has a much more antique feel than Lima. Brick and tan buildings splay out via cobblestone streets from Plaza de Armas (the Main Square) into the hills. You can feel the altitude from the moment you step off the plane. Every hotel, tourist shop, and restaurant is offering coca tea. Made from the same plant from which the drug cocaine is derived, these legal and natural leaves are dropped into hot water for tea or steeped into candies to help alleviate altitude sickness. The flavor is mildly herbaceous with a hint of mint.

The sun rises early so near the equator, and with it, Peruvian women dressed in traditional garb start their day early, selling food and drink on the side of the streets. Hard boiled quail eggs are deshelled and dropped into a small plastic bag with a spoonful of aji, a soupy green sauce predominantly made with cilantro, onion, and jalepeno. Others haul five gallon buckets full of chicha, a lightly fermented corn beer. The cloudy, foamy, white/yellow beverage is periodically mixed by scooping and dumping with a measuring cup. For 1 sole (approx. $.33) you get a glass and a pour to be consumed right there. The flavor is slightly sweet and thick but not chewy. The flavor of the corn comes through a bit, and the slight fermentation (1-4% alcohol) gives just a tickle to the back of your throat. Variations on the beverage include using purple corn (chicha morada), making it sweeter and taste slightly of grape juice also providing a dark inky color, or adding strawberries to the original corn mash making it a cloudy pink and again, adding and berry sweetness.

While corn, potatoes, and grains (like quinoa) are the basis of the Peruvian diet, there are so many classic dishes to try, it’s a challenge to choose. At the suggestion of my hostel, one night I headed over to La Cusqueñita, a traditional Peruvian restaurant for dinner. Inclusive in their 50+ item buffet was also traditional music and dancing. I still don’t understand the mustachioed masks, but the food was delicious. We sampled everything including soups and salads alongside Lomo saltado (strips of beef sautéed with onions, tomatoes, and chunks of starchy potatoes) aji de gallina (chicken in a yellow curry sauce with onions), chicharones (fried pork belley), queso andines (Andean cheese, similar to feta in its texture and saltiness but not as crumbly and colored off-white, sold in 3kg wheels at the local market for 12 soles [$4]) and arroz con leche (rice pudding topped with a purple corn based syrup and fresh fruit).

One oddity that you will find on almost every menu in Cusco is guinea pig. Every place that offers it prepares it one of two ways, roasted or fried. The Peruvian delicacy is priced the same (50 soles or about  $17) at every restaurant and can be ordered head on or off. I was leaving the city on my way to the Sacred Valley to start my Inka Trail Trek (my next post) and discovered a tiny town called Lamay, known for its spit-roasted gunea pig. I took the collectivo (municipal bus) and when I saw the ladies waving the rodents on sticks, I flagged the driver to stop. I made my selection of guinea pig from the hearth and after some pictures, sat down to a hearty meal. When ordering guinea pig, you get the whole animal. The innards had been removed prior to roasting and were replaced with herbs and spices, also removed before plating. The skin was dark brown and blistered from the dry heat, and the body was cut into quarters and yes, the head was still on. The meat itself was soft and juicy, tasting somewhere between dark meat turkey and duck. Some complained that the dish is boney, but no more than one would expect from eating a mammal. Corn and potatoes were sides, along with a dish of aji. After the meal, I was served a shot of a clear, anise-flavored spirit as an aperitif.

Back on the collectivo, backpack in tow, I made my way to Ollantaytambo to begin my four day trek.

Food From Afar – Lima

As the sun fell, so did my plane descend. Through the clouds of the almost ever-present haze of Lima, the orange street light-dotted landscape of the capital city of Peru came into view. Bags acquired, I left the airport and was immediately accosted by a swarm of taxi drivers. In Peru, taxis are bargained for prior to the ride, getting in one anywhere in Lima is taking your life into your own hands. The lane dividers seem more like suggestions than rules, as my cab fought his way through the gaps in traffic. My hostel was in Miraflores, a district of high rise apartments boarding the ocean. On this Saturday evening, the nightlife was in full swing, bars and restaurants pumping both Spanish Salsa music and American Pop.

After checking in and getting a map, I hit the streets. Blocks away, I found John F. Kennedy Park, a greenspace famous for its stray cats. Food carts were scattered around the area, offering snacks and refreshments from ice cream pops, popcorn, to sleeves of nuts and/or fried corn, a ubiquitous snack in Peru. I capped off my night with the famous drink of Peru, Pisco.

When purchasing pisco from the store, the first question you will always be asked “is this for drinking or for mixing?” The spirit is made from a grapes and much like wine, the type of grape used is labeled on the bottle, with the exception of acholado, meaning it is a blend. The latter has a fruitier flavor and is the one you want if pisco sour is your destination. The classic drink is served in every bar, along with the country’s national beer, Cusquena and national soda, Inka Kola (A yellow soda with floral and pineapple flavors). Pisco sours are made easily enough, 2 parts pisco, 1 part fresh lime juice, 1 egg white, ½ simple syrup. Add ice and shake vigorously.

The next day was spent completely on foot. Walking the beaches, seeing the parasailers take off from the steep cliffs that overlooked the ocean. Exhaust and blaring car horns fight for domination of your senses. I found a hideaway from the din wandering to the local market for a tasting lunch. Lima has quite a gastronomic variety, including cooking classes and tours, but I prefer to be a little more self-directed, too bad I don’t speak Spanish. The two edible highlights of Lima have to be the fruit and the ceviche. First, the fruit. In the market, I made friends with the little old lady shop keepers by sampling and purchasing every fruit that I couldn’t put a name to, and then some. Check the Facebook for a video primer of Grecia walking me through the names of some of the oddities (in Spanish).

To the ceviche, as a coastal city, fresh fish (mostly trout) and a plethora of seafood like octopus, shrimp, and scallops come in every day. Just outside the market, locals sit around metal tables ordering the 6 sole (approx. $2) menu del dia. Just down the street, a cart is surrounded by Limans, slurping leche de tigre (tiger milk, the leftover sauce/soup from ceviche). The woman behind the cart was squeezing the small Peruvian limes into a metal mixing bowl, casually tossing in onions, finely chopped peppers and other juices. A quick stir and the citrus “cooked” seafood was scooped into a bowl and garnished with fried corn and seaweed. It was the best ceviche I have ever eaten, and it was $2.50, eaten standing up amidst the lunch rush. Welcome to Lima.

Graham’s Gastronomy – Unshepherded Pie

The sun sets sooner and the temperatures fall, the seasons shift from summer to autumn and with the weather, so does my palate change. Again, I found myself in the company of friends cooking dinner after work. Summer vegetation is giving way to fall foliage and what once would have seemed heavy and “stick to your gut” dish now seems warming and filling. When I was told I had, among other things, ground turkey and potatoes to work with, along with organic Applewood smoked bacon grease, a series of substitutions came to mind.

Ground turkey is leaner than beef. It’s not as flavorful, drier, and is no substitute in many situations. However, if the dish has enough other components, these undesirable attributes can be hidden amongst accoutrements. I personally prefer my shepherd’s pie with chunks of lamb, but even traditionally, beef is used. Peas as a traditional English addition, but those too were not present. Starting with an aromatic base of carrots, onion (in this case, they had half a purple onion to be used), garlic, and celery then adding the corn made for a plethora of vegetable colors, all sautéing with the smell of bacon.

Again, the traditional shepherd’s pie would have the meat and vegetables beneath a layer of mashed potatoes that would then be baked for a golden, brown, and delicious crust. There were three of us eating and we were hungry. So instead, we made three variations of plating. Using a red pepper as a garnish, we layered the meat, vegetables, and potatoes in different orders and sat down to a healthier, albeit non-traditional variation of a classic dish.

Unshepherded Pie

2 lbs ground turkey

1 can or 2 cobs of corn

½ purple onion, chopped

½ white onion chopped

2 cloves garlic

2 large carrots, cut into thin coins

3 ribs celery, chopped

1 T bacon grease (optional)

3 lbs potatoes, cleaned, skin on, chopped

1 T butter

½ C milk

Boil the potatoes in enough water to cover until fork tender. Add the butter and milk and mash, season with salt and pepper to taste.

In a large sautee pan, add the carrots with a few tablespoons of water and cover, when slightly tender, add the bacon grease (or whatever oil you like) both onions, garlic, corn, and celery. Sautee on med-hi until celery becomes soft and onions are translucent.

In a separate sautee pan, cook the ground turkey and flavor as you like. I added paprika, ground mustard, a little soy sauce, and pepper. Once browned, add to the vegetables and potatoes as you see fit to plate.

Noshing Out – Annual Paella Party

With the sun going down, the last weekend of summer’s heat dissipated into a fall cool. When my girlfriend and I arrived we were greeted first by the smell of smokey chorizo giving up its fat to the paella, coating the bottom of the pan. Sangria and vino verde in hand, we stepped inside my friend’s condo, the party already in full swing.

Every year, my friends unveil their 3’ diameter paella pan, procure prime crustaceans, and prepare a wonderful meal. Appetizers, sides, dessert, and wine are brought by the dinner guests and we all nosh upon delicious, Spanish-inspired foods. We gathered on the porch, the propane tank fueling the blue flames as our host and chef built the paella part by part. Chicken, flavored with oregano and Spanish paprika sizzled as it hit the hot chorizo grease. Once cooked, it was removed and was replaced by rice and seafood along with a shellfish broth. The final addition was the archetypal spice of paella, saffron. One of the most costly spices, it imparts a complexity of flavor befitting the rice dish. Lid on, the shrimp, clams, and mussels steamed together with the rice and spices, a briny smell emanating from the pan. But it was the smell of toast, produced by the socarrat, the burnt rice at the bottom of the pan, that we waited for.

Once the socarrat was achieved, the chef finished adorning the dish with peas and red peppers and chunks of lobster that had already been cooked. The result was a beautiful panoply of colors and flavors, ready to be consumed. As we hungrily scooped the paella onto our plates, one of the other diners opened a bottle of French sancerre. Much like a sauvignon blanc, aromas of lemon and hibiscus came through on the nose of the light golden wine. Served iced cold, a light acidity sat on the palate, cleansing and refreshing me for the next bite.

Our plates and glasses were refilled as we talked over the clatter of shells being tossed into a bowl in the center of the table. Full of the famous Spanish coastal dish, I can’t thank the gracious chef/hosts enough for another amazing time with amazing friends.

Sangria

1 bottle fruit forward red wine – I like to use sirah or zinfandel, merlots and cabernet sauvignon often have too much tannin

1 green apple, chopped

1 red apple chopped – one of the few times I use red delicious

1 orange – peel on, cut into thin slices

* 1/3 C Peach schnapps

* 1 T lemon juice

* Pim’s or other berry flavored spirit

Add all ingredients, stir and chill. Sangria is always a taste, add, taste process. Variations (mango, pineapple, coconut, cranberry) abound. I suggest making it a few hours before service to let the fruit infuse the wine. Serve cold with a cube of ice and a small scoop of the fruit.

Noshing Out – Three Generations of Italian in Hartford

The old, copper espresso press reflected, in golden tones, Grandpa Carbone as he regaled the attentive crowd in the warmly lit back room of the restaurant “Back when we started this place, we couldn’t call it ‘Carbone’s’ because any Italian sounding restaurant would be associated with the mafia!” About 30 Yelpers, Tweeters, Bloggers, and socialites laughed at the history of Carbone’s Restaurante. “We wanted to show people in Hartford that Italian food wasn’t only about pizza and spaghetti and meatballs. So every year, we would go to New York City and eat at the most revered Italian restaurants. We would try the dishes that were most popular there, lobster fra diavolo, zuppa de pesce, whatever. They said there is no way that the chefs would tell you how they make it. So my father (the first generation Carbone) would say that he was a health inspector and next thing you know, he was in the kitchen watching how the chefs would do this or that and he would bring those techniques and recipes back here.” The introductory speech was handed over to his son, Vinnie, dressed in a white coat as Chef Owner, to walk us through the sampling menu for the evening, a tasting of one of Hartford’s iconic establishments as part of a Yelp event series “CT Classics.”

The tasting was set with three stations, highlighting coastal, modern, and classic. At each, Vinnie highlighted the ingredients that had been sourced locally from a partner farm. The first station featured roasted potatoes from that farm in a variety of colors and sizes, all cut into thick wedges and roasted. The crunchy and brown outside gave way to a soft, puffy center. Paired with this was octopus, covered in Spanish paprika and charred black, giving the diner a double taste of smoke. Lastly at that station was a shrimp ceviche. Lemon and lime were used to “cook” the thickly cut, white fleshed shellfish. Purple onion, tomato, and green pepper added a vegetative crunch along with a bright color pallet to the dish.

The modern station gave the diner a selection between two versions of fried chicken, not a typical Italian staple. The honey chicken was crispy on the outside, the batter crunching off and the inside steaming as you bit in. Local honey was drizzled on top with bundled sprigs of rosemary. Alternative to honey was spicy, a bright orange sauce covering the chicken in addition to the aforementioned batter. Heat crept up on me as the vegetative, “green” flavor from the partner farm peppers came through on the sauce.

Lastly, the fresh pasta station was manned by Vinnie himself. The summer oriented dish highlighted the fresh tomatoes, sitting dark red in his mis en place. Built in a sauté pan coated with yellowish green olive oil, Vinnie tossed tubular pasta, raw and roasted garlic, grated pecorino cheese, both sun dried and fresh tomatoes. Over the heat, the tomatoes broke down, bringing  out the classic pasta sauce aroma you associate with Italian grandmothers. Vinnie plated the pasta with house made meatballs. I inquired as to what kind(s) of meat he used. “We take the ends from the pork loin and mix them with ground beef, pecorino romano, some spices, and yesterday’s Italian bread soaked in milk, just like grandma used to do.”

Flashes and clicks were seen and heard over the dull roar of the evening, as attendees (including myself) took photographic evidence of their dining pleasure. I made some new friends, each of us waxing poetic over Hartfordian gems like Carbone’s. Keep watch for more posts about CT Classics and thank you Carbone’s for a delicious evening.

Noshing Out – Selfies

Every month on the second Friday a Meetup group of friends and I get together at someone’s house for a zaney-themed cooking extravaganza. This month, the event took place in Middletown, half in the kitchen, and half under a warm, starlit sky. The theme, as usual, was scarcely tangentially related to food “Selfies.”  After deliberation (and an inspection of my pantry), I decided on creating a dish reflective of my cooking style, a selfie of sorts. I tend to use ingredients that are in season, and go from those ingredients to eating within an hour. Mixing flavors in a novel manor, be they ethnically diverse or culinarily contradictory, is also recurring theme for me. In this case, apples were my base. Cinnamon first came to mind, but that wasn’t enough, as a flurry of other spices passed my mind, I realized I was considering the building blocks of chai. But the dish still needed body, substance, so I added cream and rice with a dab of honey for refinement and my dessert was ready.

My girlfriend and I arrived around 7. The cooking was already underway, with one of the foodies putting together ingredients for a chicken curry. Our gracious host, Terry, always one for healthy eating, was in the process of creating a buffalo flavored cauliflower. She used frozen bunches and bestowed them with a smokey aroma by dressing them with hot sauce and a variety of Cajun and BBQ spices before laying them on a baking sheet in the oven to roast.

The real action was outside. Laughter and a din of food preparation came up from the patio below. A stone slab staircase descended onto a gazebo and rock enclosed grill. Already, other guests were imbibing in the variety of wines, the corks laid next the bottles from whence they came. More foodies arrived, some dishes coming fully prepared, like a Moroccan stew, sprinkled with peanuts and squirts of lime before service. Heady spice scented steam billowed out of the carafe when he revealed his creation, claiming it met the theme as an homage to the fact that we all came out of Africa. Amateur chefs quizzed one another over ingredients and preparation styles. One foodie expressed themselves by making a salad from heirloom tomatoes grown in their garden. The golden varietal had been roasted in a cast iron skillet and tossed with feta cheese and a homemade pesto.

Our favorite dish however was the pork loin. Wanting to highlight the side sauce, the pork was unmarinated and seasoned simply before hitting the grill, cut to thin, medium rare slices and were laid out next to the chutney. Both sweet and savory, onion, red pepper, garlic, and peach played in a viscous sauce which I liberally adorned my pieces of loin.

The remainder of the evening was spent sampling wines, noshing on the smorgasbord of offerings, and reveling in the like-mindedness of food focused friends. An event that I look forward to every month, made even better when I dont even have to drive myself home.

Apple Chai Rice Pudding

2 C white rice

1 C peeled, chopped apple (sweeter varieties like gala, fuji, or honeycrisp)

½ C cream

1 ½ C chai tea (strong)

½ C honey

1/8 t salt

1 t vanilla extract

Combine all ingredients in a medium pot over med/high heat and cover. Bring to a boil, stir, reduce heat to low and let simmer until rice soaks in all liquid. Serve warm.

Graham’s Gastronomy - Feeling Porky

Cravings are a double edged sword. On the positive side, cravings help narrow the spectrum of possibilities for what I am looking to cook or eat. On the other hand, they can lead me astray from what might otherwise be a healthy decision. The other night, I felt both edges of that that sword, as my fellow foodie friend, Dave and I got together to cook, both of us with a hankering for pork. While I tend to be more “cook whatever I’m inspired by in the grocery store,” Dave prefers planning the meal and shopping for specific ingredients. We split the difference and settled on a pork loin with something and a bacon topped frisee salad dressed somehow. Our trek to the grocery store and rummaging through our respective refrigerators produced a mango, apples, onions, and shallots. Good to go.

We were cooking at Dave’s apartment, whose kitchen is not large, so the both of us, imitating professional chefs, kept declaring “behind!” as we passed chopped and prepped ingredients from cutting board to pan. It started with me cutting locally grown apples into match sticks, chopping onion and shallot, and slicing mango into small cubes while Dave crisped thick-cut, applewood smoked bacon, which I also chopped. We used the grease from the bacon coated both the pans for the pork loin and  the onions. The loin, after being seared in a pan and flavored simply with salt and pepper, was put in the oven at 350 until an internal temperature of 150 was reached. It was then evacuated and wrapped in foil to rest before being sliced on the bias and topped with a mango chutney. The chutney had been reducing from when the pork originally went in, combining onion, mango juice, and fresh mango with a little lemon, salt and pepper. The chutney thickened and was dapped atop the pork.

The salad was assembled just before service. The frisee, apple, and bacon were tossed together in a large mixing bowl and plated. The aforementioned shallot was sautéed in the bacon grease and once translucent, we added balsamic vinegar and fresh ground pepper. The salad didn’t feel dressed enough, so to finish the creation, we poached an egg for each of us and crowned the vegetation. The runny center cascaded down the lettuce providing an unctuous mouthfeel to the crunchy components.

The dinner itself was spent is nigh silence as we consumed our creation, but conversation picked up quickly thereafter as we turned our attention to demolishing one another in Super Smash Brothers. What a great night.

Mango Chutney

·         1 whole onion, chopped

·         1 T Bacon grease (or duck fat, or clarified butter)

·         1 mango, peeled and cubed

·         6 oz mango juice

·         Salt and pepper to taste

Sautee onion in fat until translucent, add mango and mango juice and reduce until consistency of honey

Frisee Salad

·         2 heads frisee lettuce, rinsed and pulled apart

·         4 slices bacon, cooked crispy and chopped

·         1 medium apple (sweeter is better, fuji or pink lady would work well)

·         1 shallot, chopped fine

·         1/3 C bacon grease

·         1 egg per person, poached with runny center

·         1/3 C balsamic vinegar

Mix apple, chopped bacon, and lettuce in large mixing bowl. Brown shallot in bacon grease then remove from heat, add balsamic and mix, then toss over salad mix. Top with poached egg and fresh ground pepper.

Graham's Gastronomy - Little Tower of Tasty

After a weekend in Vermont, hiking mountains and finding clues working our way through the Green Mountain Adventure Challenge (think “The Amazing Race” meets “Adventure Rooms” within the geographic area of two towns) we wound our way home through Brattleboro and I-91. We stopped along the way for Vermont delectables, getting apple cider donuts and a maple syrup, vinegar, ginger drink at a cider house just off the side of the road. The drink had a sweet, sour, and pungent flavor, along with a little “heat” from the grated ginger. Definitely something I would relate to a cleanse.

We also stopped at Putney Winery for a fruit wine tasting. For $2, we samples eight different fruit wines, ranging from apples to berries, sweet bubbly to stiff brandy. I swooned at the mixing possibilities of a blueberry cordial, but truth be told, my spirit station is full, though my girlfriend did pick up a bottle of the rhubarb wine. Both tart and sweet, the light red coloring bespoke a rose.

Once home, we wanted something simple, quick, yet still summer-centric. We settled on steak. I covered the large cut with a small bit of oil so the montreal steak seasoning would adhere. My grill has a searing side burner that glows bright red-orange when it is up to heat, and the steak was gently laid on the grate to char. At the same time, I had trimmed the kernels off a few ears of corn and added some Worcestershire sauce, mushroom ketchup, paprika, cumin, sriracha, chili powder, salt, pepper, and a smoky BBQ sauce along with chopped onion into a pan with some bacon grease for lubrication and that was sautéed at a high temp to caramelize some of the sugars on the other side burner.

The last topping was an apricot salsa. I found an apricot tree about a mile away and harvested some of the ripe fruit. I cut them in half then removed the pit, chopping the remaining flesh. I mixed in diced tomatoes, onions, and cilantro and sprinkled in salt, lemon pepper, and lemon juice instead of lime.

As I removed the steak to rest under foil, we sprinkled on shredded sharp cheddar cheese (we just came from Vermont, we had to) and let it melt. Once the agonizing five minutes had passed, we plated. The corn succotash was the base, followed by the seared rare steak, melted cheese, and topped with the salsa. All of this was enjoyed with the setting sun on my back porch. Can’t think of a better way to end the weekend.

Nsh Out - Eat like a Bombay Local

I’m a huge fan of Indian buffets. When it comes to ethnic cuisine, I always run into the problem of too many choices, too many things I want to eat, and not enough sampling platters to try them. Clearly, I don’t run into this issue at a buffet. Typically, Indian restaurants will run a weekday lunch buffet, but dinner is a normal menu. This runs true for India Kitchen in Manchester, with the exception of Wednesday and Sunday. Wednesday nights, they run a special Bombay Chat dinner buffet and at about $15 per person, its worth a trip.

The first thing of note about India Kitchen was the lack of Caucasians. Everyone working there was Indian and so was most of the clientele. Families filled the booths and the chatter around the restaurant was in Hindi, always a good sign. My dining partner and I hit the buffet. My first stop was the sauces and chutneys, arraying them before us on the table. They offered (from left to right) mango, mint, tomato, cucumber/yogurt, tamarind, and coconut. The mango was almost candy sweet, and the coconut had some cardamom which gave it a savory taste. Our favorites were the cucumber yogurt and the tomato, the former having a cooling effect (which was needed, the cuisine was certainly true to an Indian’s palate of heat) and the latter providing a richness and depth a flavor to some of the starches on the buffet.

As usual, I start with a little of everything, then go back to what I liked for round two. The small bowl to the left was filled with a lentil-based soup, enriched with carrot, bay leaf, and onion, it was a water based (rather than cream) soup but felt hearty and filling. The paneer (farmer’s cheese) was served in a tomato-cream sauce, not dissimilar from the tomato chutney. The cheese was firm and asked to be consumed with naan or topping rice.

 On a second table, they featured pati puri. Oval, hollow, rice puffs about the size of a small egg are dunked into a bowl of chutney, thinned to a soup consistency, then quickly tossed into your mouth. I had this popular street food when I was in New Delhi. India Kitchen had both a mint and a tamarind dipping soup. But the buffet wouldn’t be complete without chicken. Both kinds of chicken were cut into small, bone-in pieces. The first sat atop a bed of vegetable rice, fairly unadorned, but the second sat in a spicy, brownish red sauce that was perfumed with curry, cumin, paprika, and more masala mixed spices I couldn’t identify.

For dessert (included), we sampled the galub jaman (fried dough balls swimming in a honey syrup), this iteration being browned more than usual, giving more of a molasses flavor, and mango ice cream. The mango had been pureed and the ice cream felt more like a custard or thick yogurt, the mango flavor and color coming through.

Overall, a wonderful (and filling) dinner. It’s always a pleasure to try new places, especially when you have someone to appreciate it with you.

Graham's Gastronomy - Farmer’s Market Fridge Clearing

Summer is rolling into its final stages (and giving it’s all with this heat). With summer comes the farmer’s markets and farm stands. Cutting out the middle man is a great way to reduce pricing, and especially when supporting local business and getting fresh fruits and vegetables, I can’t resist. One of the things I love about farmer’s markets is the availability of uncommon varieties of foods, to include the inevitable oddities, like an ‘L’ shaped cucumber as big as my calf…for a dollar.

With a fridge full of farmer’s food, I stopped at my friend’s house after a day in the Simsbury office for another “personal chef” dinner with friends. It started with the aforementioned cucumber, which I cut in quarters and used my mandolin to slice into a large mixing bowl. I made the blade’s cut even thinner and shaved an onion into the bowl, then tossed in apple cider vinegar, salt, garlic power, pepper, parsley, sunflower oil, dry mustard, and champagne dill mustard. Tossed, and let those flavors mingle while I prepped the chicken.

They had a whole, cooked, rotisserie chicken sitting in the fridge just asking to be fancied up. I diced some small, sweet apples that I quite literally found under a tree near my gym, along with some sweet onions and added them to a wide pot with the chicken, which I shredded and pulled. Under medium heat, I created my own BBQ sauce with tomato paste, maple syrup, salt, pepper, paprika, apple cider vinegar, teriyaki sauce, soy sauce, and dry mustard. All of this I let simmer while I prepped the last part of the meal.

Zucchini and yellow squash, staple summer vegetables, were sliced into strips and set to sauté in a skillet. When I grill zucchini and squash, I usually keep it simple with salt pepper, olive oil. The grill bestows a smoky char that I don’t want to mask with a heavy sauce or glaze. On the stove however, the vegetables need a little something. Some of the teriyaki/soy sauce from earlier perhaps? Well, I added these only after the vegetables had been set to sauté and the resulting smoke from adding them to an already hot pan set off the fire alarm. Oh well.

The meal was paired with a sweet, strawberry-based white wine, served over ice, sipped on the back patio. And once again, we laughed, caught up, and oddly enough, reminisced about 80’s and 90’s children’s cartoons (I can’t believe they hadn’t heard of Captain Planet!) Till next time I’m in Simsbury.

Graham's Gastronomy - The Heat is On

I’ve written posts about Fabulous Foodies, one of the culinary-inspired Meetup groups of which I am a part. Usually, our second Friday of the month, oddly-themed cooking extravaganzas are friendly, collaborative, and supportive in pursuit of delicious dishes. However, for this month, competitors gathered above glowing charcoal for the annual grill-off.

The rules were simple; contestants may only use a charcoal grill (which will be provided if necessary), you are given a window of time in which to grill, and a serving time. Each contestant was allowed a designated sous chef if they chose, and was only required to cook enough for three judges to sample, and cook we did.

There were five contestants, and about 15 additional spectators. The first round of plates was adorned with a flank steak roulade. The meat had marinaded and rolled into a spiral before hitting the grill. The steak was paired with potato wedges and charred garlic, both cooked on cast iron over coals.

Plate two was a rack of lamb, the ends of the bones of each “lollipop” had enough char to crack off. Cooked to medium to avoid chewiness, it was paired with a watermelon salad which the judges said “was a perfect balance to her lamb and therefore added to the experience raising the lamb from excellent to amazing.”

Plate three was a grilled portabella mushroom. Topping it was bacon, two different kinds of sausage, three kinds of cheese, red pepper, and green onion. The latter two did not have char from the grill, lending a brightness of both color and flavor to the otherwise heavy dish.

My offering came fourth. I marinaded steaks of ahi tuna in half soy sauce and half honey for 15 minutes. Removing the tuna, I reduced the marinade in a skillet over the coals to a thick caramel consistency and used a spatula to “paint” a streak of caramel on the plates. The sides of the tuna steak were rolled in sesame seeds and the fish was placed close to a mound of charcoal, searing it. Flipping once to preserve the grill marks, I sliced the fish to present both toasted sesame ends and seared middle. I also adorned the plates with dabs of sriracha aioli and wasabi aioli.

The last plate was a grilled dessert, inundated with bourbon (really good bourbon, I tasted some). Bourbon and brown sugar was used to macerate red and bosc pears, which were grilled. Bourbon and egg with a hint of vanilla was used to soak raisin brown bread in a French toast style, also grilled. A bourbon maple syrup was drizzled over these two and a dollop of double cream finished the dish. Decadent and alcoholic, this was the dish that wowed the judges the most and took home the trophy.

I must admit, if I’m going to lose, it makes me feel better that I lost to the best. I got to sample all of the offerings and everyone did an amazing job. Competition truly brings out the best, and in this case, the tastiest.

Graham's Gastronomy - Ride on Chef, Ride on...

Yesterday featured a beautiful summer afternoon. Sunny, a few clouds, warm but not hot. I had dinner plans with friends who live in Avon, and usually, I stop off there after a day in the Simsbury office. However, plans didn’t work out that way and I decided to bike the 12 miles instead of drive. Despite some concerns around Avon Mountain, I made it there in under an hour, ingredients in tow. After a quick shower, I hit the kitchen to make chicken fajitas.

Fajitas are my go-to when I eat out at a Tex-Mex restaurant. Not because they are authentic (One could argue that nothing on the menu at a Tex-Mex place could be considered “authentic”) or because they are particularly difficult or time consuming to make (these are usually my first three criteria when choosing a restaurant). I pick them because the fajitas because they are simple, clean, and can’t hide anything. No blankets of sauce or piles of sour cream, just build-your-own, meat, veggies, tortilla.

My fajitas started the day before. I coated the chicken breast with salt, lemon pepper, smoked paprika, and a mole made from roasted chilis. I let them marinade overnight before sautéing in pan. Once cooled, I pulled the meat apart and poured the remaining juices over it. The real cooking fiesta started after my ride though. I sliced yellow and red peppers with onion and tossed in a pinch of salt and sunflower oil, charring them all in a square, cast iron skillet. In a pot, I browned a clove of garlic and kernels of fresh corn, cut right from the cob. I added the juice from a can of black beans along with paprika, some “uh ohh” mix of seasonings my friends had (it smelled reminiscent of a Cajun blend. I often season food by smell), and a bit of cumin. Once warmed and browned, I added the black beans and put on the lid to let everything mingle.

Corn tortillas were warmed in the toaster oven while the cores of avocados were removed and the flesh put into a mixing bowl with some fresh off the vine tomatoes, lime juice, chopped cilantro, salt, and fresh ground pepper. I mashed these with a fork and the guacamole was ready to go.

We constructed our own plates and as the weather cooled, we ate outside. After a few rounds of refills, I headed back inside to make dessert. My friend had lemon curd she wanted to use, so I mixed about two tablespoons of it with about two cups of cool whip (it was a coconut-based whipped topping but you’d never know it). I also sprinkled in chia seeds for a mild crunch, and whipped it all together. I dolloped the mousse into small glasses and topped it with halved cherries and coconut flakes. The result was a multi-textured, sweet sour creamy yet light dessert that prepped me to ride up Avon Mountain, and into the sunset.

Graham's Gastronomy - Personal Chef for the Week – Part 2

The next day brought us to Costco, where we procured a leg of lamb. Usually, my parents buy lamb chops, but in my opinion, the mini t-bones are more trouble than they are worth. After some butchering, we had about seven small steaks ready for the grill. I played around with the flavoring, making one standard steak seasoning, one greek (I may have cheated a bit on this one using a Greek seasoning mix and oregano), one rosemary and lemon, and one Moroccan, adding cinnamon, paprika, cumin, and mustard. The lamb could be dipped in a tzatziki sauce I made from Greek yogurt and cucumber, blended in the food processor with lemon, salt, pepper, onion and garlic power, and some fresh parsley. The lamb was paired with what I like to call “silver onions.” Sweet onions, preferably Vidalia, are peeled and cut into four sections. Place a small pat of butter in the center, along with coarse salt and ground pepper, then wrap in tin foil and twist the top. Place these on the grill as it is warming up. These will be the first on and last off, they can take a while. To round out the meal, I created a watermelon gazpacho. Chunks of watermelon went for a spin in the food processor, the soupy result poured into a large salad mixing bowl. Cucumber and sweet onion were given a similar treatment. I added white balsamic, lemon juice, salt and pepper, and a bit of ground mustard to the bowl and let the flavors mingle. There was some adjusting of spices, but the soup was served cold and topped with crumbled goat cheese, providing another slight tart flavor, but also sweetness and creaminess.

The next morning, I claimed one of those seven cuts for steak and eggs. Two sunny side up eggs ran their yolk all over the lamb. Pro tip: Don’t reheat the steak in the microwave, use the same pan you cooked your eggs, but get it hot first, add the steak and a tablespoon of water and cover. This prevents it from getting leathery and preserves the char from the sear.

Saturday night I made my signature dish, cioppino. There are a lot of similar, mixed seafood in a tomato-based broth dishes out there. Cioppino comes from an Italian word “to chop” and comes from the Italian fisherman community in California (despite its name, you will never find cioppino in Italy). It’s considered a “catch of the day” kind of soup. Bouillabaisse, the French version, is comparable, but is flavored with saffron and very like French cooking, cannot “technically” be made outside the province (in the same way Boudreaux or Port can’t). Seafood chowder is another analogous dish, but unlike former two, the crustaceans in chowder have had their shell removed. Finally, zuppo de pesce (Italian, literally “soup of fish,” this one you will find in Italy) is most like cioppino, especially in that there is no prescriptive recipe.

The fishmonger at the local grocer didn’t have mussels, so we substituted crawfish. We also procured clams, shrimp, bay scallops, and tilapia (though any whitefish would have done). Starting with sautéing onion and garlic in butter, I added the diced stewed tomatoes, white wine, lemon, and fresh parsley. The shrimp went first, as they had the longest cooking time. One by one the seafood dropped in, each adding their own dimension of flavor. A Caesar salad with a homemade dressing, a recipe my mother touts as the best she has ever had, a crisp pinot grigio, and warmed sourdough bread rounded out the meal. There were no leftovers.

Thank you mom and dad, for letting me have the run of the kitchen for the week. It was a great visit and I hope to coordinate cooking when I come home for Christmas.

Graham's Gastronomy - Personal Chef for the Week Part 1

My parents, who live in Eden Prairie MN, are remodeling the master bathroom. My father, who just turned 57 and is semi-retired, enlisted my help under the guise of “teaching me a life skill” to help with the endeavor. Added to all this, I was conscripted (or maybe volunteered) to be the personal chef of my parents for the week. To me, this meant that I had control over the menu, and got to cook delicious food for a captive audience with a skillful sous chef (my mother).

The meals began Monday night, with grilled swordfish that I coated in a pineapple habanero glaze. I painted strips of zucchini and yellow squash with a combination of olive oil, A-1, Worcestershire sauce, salt, and pepper and grilled them, turning only once to get nicely defined grill marks. I also made a chop salad with romaine lettuce, tomatoes, shredded carrots, slivered onion, cucumber, edamame, and topped with blue cheese. A citrus vinaigrette with lemon and lime juice, with just a hint of mirin to mirror the lightness of the swordfish’s marinate topped the salad. All of this was paired with a French vouvray, light, fresh, with notes of lemon and apple.

Tuesday was a dinner out at Rodizio Grille, lots of meat, and a place restaurant I have written about before.

Wednesday was a practice run for my entry for a grill off competition next week. I thawed ahi tuna, then let it marinade it in half soy sauce and half honey for ten minutes. I rolled the steaks in black and white sesame seeds and seared them on the grill (my father’s grill has an infrared back burned that lets the grill get to 600-700 degrees). The seeds burned a bit, so I may have to reconsider coating before searing. Further, the tuna could have marinated for a bit longer as the marinade flavor didn’t really come through. I paired the fish with grilled eggplant that I drizzled with the remainder of the marinade sauce. The honey caramelized and burned a bit, giving a tasty outer char. Lastly, I tossed some orange and yellow peppers in a ponzu sauce with just a little fresh ground sea salt and gave them a char on the grill as well.

Day three of my willful culinary servitude was 15/30 tiger shrimp, peeled, and marinated in pesto with a little extra salt, lemon, and olive oil and were grilled (sensing a theme yet?). I would have also grilled the asparagus that was one of the sides, but the stalks were a bit thin and I didn’t want them to burn, so they were steamed and topped with a bit of butter and truffle salt. Reminiscing to my time in Nashville, I made grits, but 1/3 of the cooking liquid was a rendered turkey dripping I found in the fridge, just asking to be used. I also added a Colby jack cheese, making the grits creamier but also providing a bright orange coloration.

I’m a sucker for leftovers. In fact, I usually cook enough to have the meal for at least lunch the next day. That said, the leftover asparagus was chopped along with some of the bone honey ham and I sautéed both of those, adding beaten egg and Dubliner cheese (my parents get it in a huge block from Cosco) and I had a delicious omelet. Paired with pineapple, mango, and toasted coconut over plain greek yogurt with some PG Tips English tea, and that’s what I call breakfast.

Nosh Out - Iftar

We are in the season of Ramadan, “the ninth month of the Islamic calendar, and is observed by Muslims worldwide as a month of fasting to commemorate the first revelation of the Quran to Muhammad according to Islamic belief.” Fasting is undertaken from sunrise to sunset, and ends with Iftar, the evening meal. Because the Islamic calendar is based on the moon, Ramadan moves around the seasons. Summer, having the longest days, means long periods of refraining from food and water. On Tuesday, that fast started at around 3am and ended at 8:37pm.

A nearby Turkish Cultural Center that often does community outreach programs. I have attended cooking classes and celebrations among other things. I recently received an email inviting me and a guest to break the fast with a local family, in their home. Needless to say, I excitedly accepted. We arrived about 30 minutes before sundown, and as the door opened, we were welcomed with smiles, open arms, and a perfume of Turkish spices. Our hostess had been cooking all afternoon, unable to consume any of the food she was preparing. We sat in the living room, making rounds of introductions and small talk. Our hosts were bright and talkative, more than I could say for myself if I hadn’t eaten since 3am the night before. As official sunset passed, we sat down to a feast. Regretfully, I didn’t write down the Turkish names of all the amazing food we had, but everything was homemade, from scratch, and delicious.

We started with a single date, a chewy and sweet way to begin the meal. A bowl of bright orange lentil soup was laid before us, earthy and mildly spiced, it was warm and pureed smooth. Upon mopping the bowl clean with bread, the array of main dishes was passed around. Green beans were sautéed with tomato, garlic, and onion, creating a rich sauce with aromatic spices, the beans soft and pliant. The chopped salad, composed of freshly cut romaine lettuce was adorned with tomato, cucumber, onion, and a bright lemon dressing, a refreshing counterpoint to the heady spices of the other dishes. My personal favorite sat prominently in the middle of the table. The clay crock contained cuts of beef, potatoes, tomato, onions, and what I think was sumac, allspice, and cumin. The meat perfectly browned and the vegetables created a broth as they cooked down. The stuffed pepper also featured meat mixed in with rice. I am used to green bell peppers, but the (what I believe to be) wax peppers were mild, not giving off the vegetative grassy notes that bell peppers can. Last, but not least, was the eggplant salad, with chunks of tomato and onion. The eggplant was roasted and the salad was served cold, all of the vegetables blending their flavors. It may have been a dressing, or a marinade, but the salad sat in a pool of slightly sour liquid, bright lemon and parsley flavors coming through.

After dinner, our gracious hostess served Turkish tea in fluted glassware. Round, thick, honey sweet cookies paired perfectly with the strong, and slightly bitter tea. The cookies, crunchy and crusty on the outside, were soft on the inside, with the bottoms slightly oozing the syrup that had topped them. In the center, a hazelnut, slightly toasted from the baking, gave the cookie a distinct crunch.

The feast was wonderful, and I cannot thank our hosts and the Turkish Cultural Center enough for opening up their homes and hearts and sharing a religious and gastronomic experience with us.