Wednesday, June 11, 2014

Two Salsas: Mango and Strawberry

One of my favorite perfect Saturday morning start scenarios is getting up early to walk through the French Market (aka Farmer's Market), seeking out some of my favorite vendors, and being able to buy some of the freshly harvested fruits and vegetables of the season. This past weekend, fresh strawberries from Michigan, some beautiful English cucumbers, a baguette, a loaf of raisin pecan bread, a dozen eggs, baby heirloom tomatoes, Jalapeño peppers, and a bunch of cilantro all made it into my favorite oversized market bag (a find from Martha's Vineyard). There was also a beautiful piece of pottery that managed to find its' way into my bag. 

Everything that went into the bag was rather predicable, with two exceptions: the Jalapeño peppers and the cilantro. For quite awhile now I have insisted I am not a big fan of the flavors of either of them. However, like they say, be careful about how strongly you frame an opinion, as it may be susceptible to being revisited. Skewing to the other end of the like/dislike food continuum, I think I may have just become a big fan of Jalapeño peppers and cilantro. In matters of foods there is no true middle ground, no absolute neutral position to be taken, it is a more black/white than gray world (okay, this might be on the strong side of opinions).


So here's the thing about this tale of two salsas. I had given myself an hour to make and photograph both the Mango Jalapeño Salsa and the Strawberry Jalapeño Salsa. Time was getting away from me, my ability to multii-task was pushed well beyond its' limits, and my unfamiliarity with cutting a mango had me a little unsettled. The good news is that I finished making both salsas in time for dinner. The not so good news was that I didn't capture as many photos as I would have liked.

The Mango Jalapeño Salsa and the Strawberry Jalapeño Salsa share many of the same ingredients, yet they each had their own distinct sweet/savory flavors. The combination of the champagne mango and the Jalapeño pepper created a wonderfully sweet, mildly hot Mango Jalapeño Salsa. All of the flavors from the strawberries and other ingredients came through in each bite of the Strawberry Jalapeño Salsa, however, the use of a whole Jalapeño (without the seeds) created more heat than I thought it would have. Next time (and there will be a next time) I might only use half of the Jalapeño pepper, pay attention to its' characteristics, or use the whole Jalapeño pepper if I know a salsa with 'heat' is one everyone at the table would enjoy.


We all know that we are taking some risks when we make assumptions. Had I watched the Whole Foods video on how to cut a mango, I wouldn't have completely destroyed one of them in the process of making the Mango Jalapeño Salsa (and I wouldn't have been so mad at myself for going into something having made an assumption). As hard as it may be to believe, up until now I have never cut a whole fresh mango. Amazingly the 'king of all fruits' have never found their way into my shopping cart or refrigerator (the mango in Noosa's Mango yoghurt doesn't count).

For the Mango Jalapeño Salsa I used a ripe Champagne or Ataulfo mango. It has a rich, sweet flavor; a beautiful deep yellow color; buttery flesh not as fibrous as other mangoes; and, adds a bit of tanginess to this savory salsa. With my rather limited mango eating experiences, I can't say how it might compare to other mangoes. If you cannot find a Champagne mango, choose a variety you know to be on the sweeter/tangier side when making this salsa.


In addition to the diced Champagne mango, the other ingredients in the Mango Jalapeño Salsa were a diced english cucumber (unpeeled), diced red onion, diced Jalapeño pepper, chopped cilantro, fresh lime juice, and some freshly ground pepper. I served it with two kinds of tortilla chips, but I could have just as easily eaten it off a spoon. 

Salsas are pretty versatile and this one is no exception. The Mango Jalapeño Salsa would be a great on fish tacos or grilled fish.


After making both salsas I am pretty certain I will no longer be so dismissive of recipes or dishes containing cilantro, Jalapeño peppers, and/or mangoes any more. Having finally learned how to cut a mango (yippee), I thought I should probably add to my Jalapeño peppers knowledge base. Operating with a little bit of information might help me figure out why the Strawberry Jalapeño Salsa ended up being 'hotter' than the Mango Salsa when there wasn't a significant difference in the ingredients between them (neither one of them had the seeds from the peppers mixed in). 


Turns out can Jalapeño peppers do have varying levels of heat. Factors affecting the heat level are their age (the older the hotter); their color (the heat index goes up as they change from green to red); and, their texture (the smoother, the milder). And at least now I have a better understanding why the Strawberry Jalapeño Salsa had a significant amount more 'heat' than the Mango Jalapeño Salsa. The next time I am at the French Market or the grocery store, I will be paying a little more attention to the peppers I am putting into the bag.


In case you need a reason to make a pitcher of margaritas or buy your favorite beer, I have two of them for you: Mango Jalapeño Salsa and the Strawberry Jalapeño Salsa
Recipes
Mango Jalapeño Salsa
Strawberry Jalapeño Salsa
(source of inspiration was the mango salsa recipe created by Ellie Krieger)

Ingredients
Mango Jalapeño Salsa
1 cup diced champagne mango (or other variety of mango if not available)
1 cup diced, unpeeled English cucumber 
1/3 cup diced red onion
1/4 cup chopped cilantro
1 small Jalapeño pepper, seeded and diced
Juice from one lime
Freshly ground pepper

Strawberry Jalapeño Salsa
18-20 strawberries, diced
1 cup diced, unpeeled English cucumber 
1/3 cup diced red onion
2 Tablespoons chopped cilantro
1/2 small Jalapeño pepper, seeded and diced (or 1 whole small Jalapeño pepper if you like heat in your salsa)
Juice from one lime
Freshly ground pepper

Tortilla Chips

Directions
Mango Jalapeño Salsa
1. Combine all ingredients.
2. Serve with your favorite tortilla chips or as a side to grilled fish.
Note: Can be prepared several hours ahead to ensure the flavors come together.

Cutting the mango: To dice a mango, cut down the broad side of the fruit, slightly off center, from the stem end to the tip end. The knife should slide down against the flat side of the pit/spine. Repeat on the other side, cutting as close to the pit/spine as possible. Cut the flesh from the sides of the pit/spine, following its' curve. Lay each half on your cutting surface and score with the tip of a knife in a crosshatch pattern, down to but not through the skin. Life the mango half, and press the skin with your thumbs to turn it inside out. Little cubes of mango will pop out on the other side. Cut them into the size dice you need.

Strawberry Jalapeño Salsa
1. Combine all ingredients. 
2. Serve with your favorite tortilla chips
Note: Can be prepared 1-2 hours ahead to allow flavors to come together.


There might actually be a reason why I have intentionally avoided making and serving most foods falling in the hot and/or spicy category. Years ago I participated in a charity golf outing. I was not then and am still not now a golfer. Even though this outing was organized as a scrambler (meaning my golf inability didn't matter as much), I wanted to make a contribution to the foursome I was on (fearing my lack of golf abilities were destined to prevent us from having any remote chance of having a respectable final team score). My idea of a contribution was to pack everyone a lunch of beef tenderloin sandwiches (thinking this would be a better option than the golf clubhouse ham or turkey sandwiches being served), a couple of sides, and some roasted cashews. I was feeling pretty good about the lunch (and the baggies containing a wet, semi-frozen washcloth) and feeling, like at the end of the golf outing, they wouldn't really care if we came in in last place.

The roasted cashews were made with Chinese Five Spice Powder. If I had to describe them, I would characterize them as a 'tad' on the hot and spicy side. Everyone else's version would describe them very, very, very differently. Now, there wasn't actually anything wrong with these hot and spicy roasted cashews. Except for the fact they were served on a sunny day in August where temperatures reached the mid-90s and the only breeze to be found on the golf course came when someone swung their golf club. Had I not made the beef tenderloin sandwiches and put together baggies with icy cold washcloths, I am pretty certain the golf cart would have taken off without me, leaving me somewhere in the middle of the golf course without a course map. And the only reason they didn't care where we placed at the end of this golf outing was that they were just happy to be alive at the end of it.

Monday, June 9, 2014

Lemon Thyme Roasted Grapes



Growing up our Sunday dinners were not dinners at all. They were instead Sunday lunches as we usually ate somewhere between noon and one o'clock in the afternoon. There was very little waivering on the meal time start tradition, even on holidays. How my father managed to put together holiday dinners on the table by one in the afternoon remains a mystery to me. In retrospect, maybe this explains in part why we grew up having all meats served rare. I have absolutely no idea why we ate this early, however, nowadays anything served at that time of the day on a Sunday is usually a combination of breakfast and lunch. Sunday dinner has now moved to a meal served anytime after four o'clock, making for a great end to the weekend and an even better start to the hectic week ahead. It also has the added benefit of giving me more time to put something together and still have time to run errands, go to the health club or now that summer is here, get a little sun.

And for dinner this Sunday, I knew I wanted to make the Grilled Chicken, a spinach salad with thinly sliced red onions, sugared pecans, and Point Reyes Blue Cheese tossed with a Champagne Vinaigrette, and the Blueberry Crisp served with Ben and Jerry's Vanilla Ice Cream. All tried and true things I had made before. In feeling a little adventurous and ambitious, I also wanted to make a few new things too. Like homemade onion rings, a couple of salsas, and Lemon Thyme Roasted Grapes. With dinner not until after five o'clock I had more than enough time to get all of this done and get a workout in at the health club.

Lately, I have been trying out new recipes for the first time when having friends for dinner. This is a rather significant shift for someone who has had an underlying desire to make and serve a perfect, memorable meal. While some of these risks aren't exactly meal deal breaker ones, not every one of the new recipes I make would score higher than a 5 or 6 on the mythic food rating scale of 1 to 10 I have created for myself. So when I tasted the Lemon Thyme Roasted Grapes I so wanted to declare they were a 10, a really really strong 10. Instead I am giving them a really, really strong 9 (too many 10s and one might begin to trust the judgment of this home cook, heck I would begin to trust my own judgment!).


I wasn't prepared for the Lemon Thyme Roasted Grapes served with some softened Delice de Bourgogne cheese on a water cracker to be this good. I was simply roasting black seedless grapes. Yet, as we all know, simple can sometimes get a really bad wrap as the more complex, multi-/hard to find ingredient dishes seem to generate more culinary accolades or grace the covers of the food magazines (I too can be at times guilty of jumping on the complexity bandwagon). If there was ever the opportunity to reverse this trend, the Lemon Thyme Roasted Grapes should be the first recipe to change what we love, appreciate, and savor about food (and don't we all love and remember firsts?)


If roasting vegetables transforms and enhances their flavor, the roasting of black seedless grapes takes them to such a level of sweetness and deliciousness they should be put on the 'last meal' short list. If you have never tasted a roasted black grape before, it will be a memorable first, one you are not likely to ever forget. And one when experiencing for the second, third and hundredth time should only get better and better.


And if there was ever a reason to add white balsamic vinegar to your pantry, this would be 'the' one. The marinade for the grapes is simply extra-virgin olive oil, white balsamic vinegar, freshly squeezed lemon juice, salt, pepper and lemon thyme.


The black seedless grapes and all of the marinade are poured onto a heavy bottomed rimmed baking pan and baked in a preheated 425 degree oven for approximately 15 minutes. When the seedless black grapes lightly soften and, oh so, slightly shrivel, you know they are done.

Even though the cooking time on these grapes is relatively short, it is important to shake the pan several times during the baking process. This will ensure the grapes do not stick to as well as ensure all of the liquid does not completely solidify on the pan. The liquid on the pan and the liquid that will continue to ooze from the grapes is nothing short of 'liquid gold'.


The baked black seedless grapes should be put in the bowl or dish you plan to serve them on and then allowed to come to room temperature (or cool for at least an hour). Served warm or room temperature over a creamy cow's milk cheese on a water cracker and you have the most impressive, most 'like a party in your mouth', and best sweet/savory appetizer to begin a meal or to serve simply with wine or champagne. If I describe the Lemon Thyme Roasted Grapes as insanely or wickedly delicious, those words would only serve to give added oomph to my very, very strong 9 rating on the flavor scale. They do not, however, give you a sense of the incredible combination of flavors the creamy, melt in your mouth, mild, buttery flavor of the soft cow's milk cheese and the sweetness of the roasted black seedless grape served simply on a water cracker have on your palate. I suppose you will have to make the Lemon Thyme Roasted Grapes to experience for yourself how simplicity is able to disguise itself as complex.


To make this appetizer as memorable and delicious as possible, serve the Lemon Thyme Roasted (black seedless) Grapes with a great soft cow's milk cheese like Delice de Bourgogne. If you are unable to find this cheese, St. Andre, any double-cream Brie, or even a homemade ricotta would be great substitutes. 
Recipe 
Lemon Thyme Roasted Grapes

Ingredients
2 generous cups black seedless grapes
2 Tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
2 Tablespoons white balsamic vinegar
Juice of a small lemon (3-4 Tablespoons)
2 teaspoons lemon thyme leaves plus additional thyme springs and leaves more for serving (If lemon thyme is not available, use regular thyme)
Pinch of sea salt
1/8 teaspoon freshly cracked pepper

Delice de Bourgogne cheese (or other creamy cow's milk or triple cream cheese) - Allowed to sit out at least 20 minutes before serving
Water crackers or whole wheat crackers (Carr's makes a great whole wheat cracker)

Directions
1. Preheat oven to 425 degrees F.
2. Mix grapes, extra-virgin olive oil, white balsamic vinegar, lemon juice, sea salt and pepper in medium sized bowl. Pour mixture over heavy bottomed rimmed baking pan.
3. Bake for approximately 15 minutes, shaking pan at least 4 times during baking.
4. Transfer roasted grapes and all pan juices into a serving dish.
5. Allow to come to room temperature before serving with a creamy good quality cheese and crackers 
Hint: Make roasted grapes several hours before serving. Cover and keep at room temperature.


My herb garden these days is comprised of several different stone and antique containers. The front of the house gets full sun but the backyard is more shady than sunny so growing anything that thrives in full sun is a bit of a challenge. Over the years the large locust tree has been pruned (a little too much for my liking), however, there is now a little more sun to nurture the herbs and flowers. With regular watering, everything planted several weeks ago is (thankfully) thriving. Several weeks ago I received an email from the woman who owned the farmhouse I had rented out east. In it she shared the news that 'my herbs' were doing well. The email made me both wince and smile. Wince, because what I would do to have my hands on all of those herbs I had planted, herbs that thrived in the Rhode Island farm dirt and sun. The chives, the rosemary, the sage (oh the sage bush was huge), the oregano, the mint, and the different varieties of thyme flourished. Surprisingly they were never destroyed by my neighbor's chickens and the overprotective rooster who frequently wandered into my yard.

But I smiled as I read the words insinuating these herbs were 'mine', even though the house and the property it sat on were in her husband's family for more than eighty years. Odd as it may seem, it felt as if I too had lived a lifetime in that house, in that town (could there be such a thing as past lives?). Whatever it was that had me feeling connected to this house and the land it sat on, also had me taking care of it, planting those herbs, bushes and flowers that would continue to grow for years and years to come. I have always said and believed that houses 'talk'. This one wanted to be filled with antiques, surrounded by beautiful blue hydrangeas and its' gardens filled with herbs. I was happy I had the chance to listen and more importantly, to oblige. Maybe a part of my soul, part of spirit remains there, and maybe in a odd kind of way, those herbs really are still 'mine'. At least in my heart I know they always will be,

Wednesday, June 4, 2014

Lemon Bars on Brown Butter Shortbread

Every year we hear there will be a shortage of some fruit or vegetable which invariably leads to unpredictable levels of scarcity, panic, and, of course price increases (or gouging depending on where you live or where you shop). Last year the fruit in the shortage spotlight was lemons, this year it is limes. I suppose this means the mojitos and margaritas will be a little more expensive to make this year. Someone once said 'when life gives you lemons make lemonade'. Nothing against lemonade, but why not make Lemon Drops, Lemon Curd or Lemon Bars on Brown Butter Shortbread instead? Especially when they are in abundance at the grocery store.


In times of abundance and in times of scarcity, there is always at least one lemon in my refrigerator. I now buy them one or two at a time as there had been a few occasions when I allowed a few bags of lemons go to waste (something I promised myself would never happen again). But this past week bags of lemons were on sale at one of the grocery stores I frequent. To buy or not to buy was the question I was asking myself. After giving it some thought (and trying not to be impulsive), the answer was 'buy', but only on the condition I would make either Lemon Bars or Lemon Curd. Having a plan with options in place, the bag of big beautiful lemons went into the shopping cart.


Arriving home, I decided to use the lemons to make Lemon Curd, however, that meant finding a book I had read almost twenty years ago, one having a recipe for a most amazing Lemon Curd in it. Only I couldn't remember the name of the book and wasn't exactly sure where this book was. I was pretty confident I would remember it, if I could only see it. After searching through most of the places where books are displayed or stored here, this needle in the haystack book was miraculously found (Bean Blossom Dreams: A City Family's Search for a Simple Country Life). Yet, after all of the time spent searching, I ended up deciding to save making the Lemon Curd for when I was going to make a Pavlova (a foreshadowing of a future blog posting). Not all was lost. Lemons Bars on Brown Butter Shortbread wasn't such a bad second option use for the bag of lemons.


There are many Lemon Bar recipes out there. They generally fall into two camps: bars having a thick lemony filling on top of a shortbread crust and bars having more of a 1:1 lemony filling to crust ratio. My preference and this recipe falls into the second camp. What separates these Lemon Bars from some of the other recipes out there is the brown butter shortbread crust and the use of sea salt in both the filling and the crust. The browned butter adds the right amount of nuttiness to the crust while the sea salt compliments both the crust and filling perfectly.


Browning the butter adds a step to making the shortbread crust, but the time it takes is pale in comparison to the flavor it creates. Browned butter, sometimes called beurre noisette (translation: hazelnut butter), smells like hazelnuts, has a nutty, toasted flavor, and helps make almost any sauce or baked good taste richer. In this recipe the butter is browned, cooled, refrigerated and then allowed to soften slightly. If you have never made brown butter before, America's Test Kitchen put together a great (less than two minutes) YouTube video on how to make it: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P-eLe2zuTyQ. If you are a visual learner like I am, it is worth watching.

The dough for this crust is made in a standing mixer with a paddle attachment. Once made it is pressed into a 9x13 inch baking pan lined with parchment paper and chilled for 30 minutes. In a preheated 350 degree oven, the crust is baked for 20-25 minutes or until it is lightly browned. 


During the last ten minutes of the crust's baking time, the filling is assembled as it needs to be ready to be poured over the hot crust as soon as it comes out of the oven. Depending on the size of your lemons you will need at least four, maybe five. Room temperature lemons are always much easier to juice than ones taken right out of the refrigerator. The eggs, milk and sea salt are whisked together in a large bowl. In another bowl the sugar and flour are whisked together before the lemon juice and zest are added. After whisking until the sugar has dissolved, the eggs are added and the entire mixture is whisked until well combined. The entire mixture is poured over the just out of the oven hot crust.


Reducing the oven temperature to 325 degrees, the lemon bars are baked for 20-25 minutes or until the center is set (my baking time was 25 minutes). Once the lemon bars have cooled completely, cover and place in the refrigerator to chill. The chilling makes the bars much easier to remove from the pan and cut.

You can dust the lemon bars with sifted confectionary sugar either before or after you cut them (with a sharp knife dipped in hot water and wiped dry). After cutting them into bars or squares, place on either pieces of parchment paper or in paper baking cups before putting on a platter or packing up.

How do I love these Lemon Bars on Brown Butter Shortbread? Oh, let me count the ways. They hold their shape, they have the perfect crust to filling ratio, the filling is creamy and lemony without being overly tart or sugary sweet, and the richness and nuttiness of the brown butter shortbread crust makes them addictive. 
Recipe
Lemon Bars on Brown Butter Shortbread (crust recipe inspired by Martha Stewart and lemon filling recipe inspired by Cook's Illustrated)

Ingredients
Crust
12 Tablespoons unsalted butter, browned, chilled and brought back to room temperature
1 1/2 cups all purpose flour
1/2 cup confectionary sugar
pinch of sea salt

Lemon Filling
4 eggs, room temperature, lightly beaten
1 1/3 cups granulated sugar
2/3 cup freshly squeezed lemon juice (from 4-5 lemons)
2 teaspoons lemon zest
3 Tablespoons all purpose flour
1/3 cup whole milk
1/8 teaspoon sea salt

Confectionary sugar for dusting

Directions
Crust
1. Make browned butter using 12 Tablespoons of unsalted butter. Cool slightly, place in refrigerator to chill, then remove from refrigerator to slightly soften.
2. Sift flour, confectionary sugar and sea salt in a bowl. Set aside.
3. In a standing mixer fitted with a paddle attachment, beat butter until smooth.
4. Mix in flour mixture on low speed until combined and a dough forms (be patient here, it comes together).
5. Press dough into a parchment paper lined 9x13 inch baking pan. Refrigerate dough for 30 minutes or until firm. Note: Dough should come up at least 1/2 inch up sides of pan as you don't want your filling sliding under your crust. Overall thickness of pressed dough will be about 1/4 inch.
6. In a preheated 350 degree oven, bake crust until lightly golden (approximately 20-25 minutes).
Important Note: Prepare filling before crust is finished baking.

Lemon Filling
1. Whisk eggs, milk and salt together. Set aside.
2. Whisk together flour and sugar. Add lemon juice and zest whisking until sugar has dissolved.
3. Blend egg mixture into lemon/sugar mixture, whisking until combined.
4. Pour mixture over hot crust.
5. Reduce oven temperature to 325 degrees and bake for 20-25 minutes or until filling is set in the center.
6. Cool to room temperature, cover and chill in the refrigerator.
7. Remove chilled bars from baking pan. 
8. Sprinkle with sifted confectionary sugar.
9. Dip a long, sharp knife (not serrated) into hot water, wipe clean, then cut into squares or bars.
10. Place cut lemon bars/squares on pieces of parchment paper or place in baking cups. Serve immediately. Store bars covered in the refrigerator.

Monday, June 2, 2014

Grilled Chicken

If I have learned anything over the course of my life, it is that you are never ever too old to learn something new. There is something to be said for the feeling of giddiness or the adrenaline rush you experience when making a discovery or finding a new piece of information that changes your perspective, maybe even your life. And in the most recent case of a life-changing, adrenaline rushing moment, I learned a few things that will forever change how I will make a grilled chicken. And I have Paul Kahan, chef/owner of two of my favorite restaurants in Chicago (The Publican and Blackbird), to thank.


Not only did he teach me how to butterfly a chicken (being a visual learner online videos can be great tutorials) he helped me understand why a salting then a marinating process is necessary to create a moist, flavorful, and juicy grilled chicken.


You might be thinking 'what is the big deal about making grilled chicken?' After you make this recipe you will understand the 'big deal'. With my new found knowledge I made the best ever grilled chicken. Honestly, yes best ever. But as obsessed as I am about this grilled chicken, I don't want to turn into someone who makes the same dish as the only dish I serve to family and friends. So I am thinking I am going to have change out the sides to go along with this grilled chicken. Then maybe I might be able to get away with having the grilled chicken make multiple repeat appearances, at least for a little while.


Up until now I have never taken on the challenge of butterflying (or spatchcocking) a whole fresh chicken. Whether I didn't trust my knife skills or I thought it was 'too' difficult, my reticence has finally been overcome. Surprisingly butterflying a four pound chicken wasn't as difficult as I had believed it to be (don't we sometimes convince ourselves somethings are harder than they really are?). Having good sharp knives made this chicken preparation relatively much easier.

Butterflying or spatchcocking the chicken begins with removing the neck and backbone using either kitchen shears or a knife. The removal of the breast plates, thigh bones, and wish bone can only be done with a sharp knife. If you are visual learner like I am, this short YouTube video will walk you through the process much better than I might be able to explain it: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VMB9HHjAMjU. 


Once butterflied or spatchcocked (my new favorite word), the chicken is first seasoned with two teaspoons of Kosher salt and allowed to marinate at least two hours and up to overnight in the refrigerator (I marinated for two hours). Two teaspoons may sound like too much salt for a four pound chicken, but it really isn't. 

Extra-virgin olive oil, fresh lemon juice, Aleppo pepper, dried oregano, garlic, salt and pepper are mixed together to create the marinade. It is then poured over the chicken (turning it to ensure both sides are coated) and marinated until ready to grill or overnight (I marinated for three hours with great results). 

There are several versions of Paul Kahan's Grilled Chicken recipe out there. One version has to do with the ingredients in the marinade and the second having to do with length of marination time. With regard to the marinade, I saw some recipes calling for 3 Tablespoons of brown sugar in addition to the other ingredients  (I didn't add brown sugar to my marinade). With regard to the marinating process, the salt marinating stage ranged from 2 hours to overnight, while marinating in the olive-oil mixture ranged from less than an hour to overnight (my marinating times were 2 hours and 3 hours respectively). Depending on which marinating times you follow, the flavor and juiciness of the grilled chicken will be affected. 

Paul Kahan recommended using Espelette pepper (made from chiles grown in the Basque region of France and Spain, having mild heat and on the expensive side) in the marinade, however, he offered Aleppo pepper (grown in Turkey and Syria, having a moderate heat level similar to an ancho chili, and is much less expensive) as an alternative. I used the Aleppo pepper I had purchased from Williams-Sonoma a few months earlier and lessened the amount of pepper used due to the variations in heat level. He also recommended using Mexican dried oregano instead of the more standard Mediterranean dried oregano. I didn't have the Mexican oregano on hand, but was happy with the flavors the standard Mediterranean dried oregano imparted on the chicken. Next time I will try making the marinade with Mexican oregano and compare the difference in taste to determine an oregano preference.


The marinated chicken is placed on a preheated grill skin side down. I had placed it over the heated side of my gas grill (versus the unheated side of the grill) and kept it on long enough to get a sear on the skin side before turning to get a sear on the bottom of the chicken before placing the chicken on aluminum foil. Continuing to cook over the direct heat and basting several times with the reserved marinade, the chicken remained on the grill for approximately 20-25 minutes before reaching an internal temperature of 165 degrees (as measured with a meat thermometer).

All the grilled chicken to rest for a few minutes before cutting into eight pieces. Finish with freshly squeezed lemon juice (a half of a lemon worked perfectly). The acidity of the lemon juice adds another layer of flavor and when combined with juices of the chicken created the perfect 'mopping' sauce.

Recipe
Grilled Chicken (slight adaptation to Paul Kahan's Grilled Chicken recipe)

Ingredients
1 four pound chicken, butterflied
2 teaspoons Kosher salt
1 cup extra virgin olive oil
5 Tablespoons fresh lemon juice (plus the juice from an additional half lemon)
2 teaspoons Aleppo pepper
1 Tablespoon dried oregano (if using Mexican oregano increase to 2 Tablespoons)
4 cloves of garlic, minced
1 teaspoon Kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
Suggested: Serve with fresh bread

Directions
1. Season the butterflied 4 pound chicken with 2 teaspoons of Kosher salt. Cover and marinate for at least two hours or overnight. Recommendation: 2-3 hours.
2. Whisk together the extra-virgin olive oil, lemon juice, Aleppo pepper, oregano, garlic, Kosher salt and black pepper. Pour over chicken, turn chicken to ensure both sides are coated, and marinate at least two hours or overnight. Recommendation: 3-4 hours.
3. Prepare grill. Place chicken skin side down on hot grill and turn once skin is charred (about 2-3 minutes). Turn chicken over, char bottom of chicken (about 2-3 minutes). Transfer chicken to a piece of aluminum foil and continue cooking for another 20-25 minutes, turning and basting several times.
3a. Alternate indirect cooking method: Place chicken skin side down on grill but away from the heat and close grill. Baste and turn chicken over every five minutes until cooked through.
4. Chicken is done when the juices run clear or has an internal temperature of 165 degrees. Remove and place on a platter. Allow to rest for 5 minutes.
5. Cut chicken into 8 pieces. Squeeze a half-lemon over chicken and serve.


As soon as we no longer had to sit in assigned seats in school, I was one of those who always chose to sit near the front of the classroom (actually the front row if seats were available), with one exception. I would sit a few rows back if I was taking a class with a friend who didn't care to be a 'a front row sitter' (as conflictual as this was for the competitive me, my friendship took priority). But that strong desire to 'sit up front' has now been replaced by an even stronger desire to 'take a place in the back' (in a room by myself with a closed-circuit television would make me even happier).

The dramatic 180 degree shift in my behavior happened the first time I took yoga and full body abs classes. No one can see when you are struggling with a concept presented in a classroom or when the content of the lecture seems so esoteric you wonder if you are sitting in class being taught in a language you understand. But everyone can see your struggles with coordination or endurance while you are in a different kind of learning curve (i.e., one involving physical learning). There have been moments when I wondered 'was I really a cheerleader way back when?' while watching the instructor demonstrate and explain the moves he/she expected us to do. They seemed like ones only circus contortionists or world-class athletes were capable of doing.

What I came to realize is that the competitive environment that existed in high school and college is one that exists only in my head, and fortunately not in any of these classes. The concept of being the 'best' has now been replaced with a different mantra 'be the best me'. At this point in my life, the goal is no longer about doing anything better, faster or more perfect than anyone else. Taking yoga and full body abs classes have been more than enough of a reality check to cause this paradigm shift. While I don't see myself moving from the back of the room to the front or even the middle of the room any time soon, I know I am someone who loves learning new things and challenging myself. And once I get past the whining stage of the learning curve, the euphoria and giddiness I feel are pretty powerful rewards. The every now and then little something from Lululemon rewards aren't bad either.

Thursday, May 29, 2014

Savory Bread Pudding with Warm Tomato Jam

Bookstores are places I can spend hours. There is something about being able to wander through the various sections of a bookstore, picking up and leafing through books, that feels soul soothing. One of my most favorite bookstores closed several years ago, but I am still mourning its' loss. Borders Books had a feel, a kind of magnetic pull to it, I have yet to find in any other bookstore, large or small. Although the Boulder Bookstore on Pearl Street in Colorado has an ambiance I find incredibly compelling, it is a thousand miles from where I live, so it feels as inaccessible as Borders.


Whenever I have purchased a book, I usually stick the receipt in it. Not only does it serve as a temporary bookmark, it also tells a story or evokes a memory. When I opened up the cookbook Harvest to Heat: Cooking with America's Best Chefs, Farmers and Artisans, the date on the receipt was New Year's Day in 2011. I guess I celebrated the new year by hanging out in a bookstore (I am not a day after New Year's Eve nursing a hangover kind of girl). But more than three years have passed since I bought this book and I had yet to try out any of the recipes. As I re-thumbed through the book, I found myself wanting to make almost everything in it. It had me wondering 'what was I waiting for?'


The epiphany came when I walked into the grocery store and saw a huge table filled with the most beautiful heirloom tomatoes. Immediately I knew exactly which recipe I would make first. However, if you would have told me in 2011 and up until a few days ago that I would be making a Savory Bread Pudding with Homemade Tomato Jam, I would have looked at you and simply said 'not happening'. If you also told me I would be deboning my own chickens, I would have made the 'you know not to ask that twice face' (but that is a story for another time). For whatever reason, I shifted from being dismissive to actually salivating at the thought of tasting the flavors of both the bread pudding and tomato jam.


In the spirit of full disclosure making the Savory Bread Pudding with Warm Tomato Jam is on the time intensive side. But before you say 'not happening in my world', this is not labor intensive, but cooking and cooling time intensive (not all good things, not all great things come quick and easy). But wait there is a reward for your time. If making for a brunch or serving for dinner, the tomato jam and savory bread pudding could/should be made the day before. On the day of serving all you will have left to do is warm the jam and brown the bread pudding slices in a skillet (which takes only minutes). The reward for your perseverance is that the entire dish is assembled for serving in less than 10 minutes. 


The aroma coming from the tomato jam simmering on the stove was intoxicating. Where have you been all my life tomato jam? Either warm or chilled, it is like nothing I have ever tasted. It is without a doubt one of the easiest jams I have ever made. And if there was ever a case to be made for simplicity, the tomato jam makes it.

The lemons are thinly sliced (seeds removed of course) and one and a half pounds of tomatoes are cut into quarters. Placed in a medium-sized heavy saucepan along with the brown sugar and granulated sugar, these four ingredients are slowly simmered. The transformation of tomatoes, lemon slices, brown sugar, and granulated sugar (along with a half cup of water) takes just a little more than two hours.


This is a bread pudding perfect for breakfast or brunch or dinner. And again, after a little more than two hours, bread, a soft cow's cheese, bacon, milk, whipping cream, eggs, thyme, butter, salt and pepper are transformed in the most incredible savory bread pudding.


Bacon is cooked crisp, a day old loaf of Italian or French bread is cut into large cubes, and the ingredients (milk, cream, eggs, thyme, salt and pepper) combined make the wet mixture. A tablespoon of the bacon fat and four tablespoons of melted butter are mixed in with the bread cubes before the milk/egg mixture is poured over it. After mixing it all together, it sits for two hours. I let it sit (unrefrigerated) for a little more than two hours.


In a 9"x5"buttered loaf pan, the bread mixture, bacon and cheese are layered. After putting the loaf pan in a roasting pan, enough boiling water is poured in so that it comes up to the halfway point of the pan. In a 350 degree preheated oven, the savory bread pudding is baked in the water bath for 1 3/4 - 2 hours or until a knife inserted in the pudding comes out clean. My baking time was closer to 2 hours and I wasn't completely certain it was done when I took it out of the oven. But after allowing the bread pudding to cool completely, all of my fears were allayed.


The cooling time for the savory bread pudding is at least two hours. The longer the cooling time the better and easier it will be to unmold and cut into half-inch slices. And actually I ended up refrigerating the bread pudding which made cutting it into slices even easier (it also allowed the flavors to more fully develop). To serve, half-inch slices are sautéed in a non-stick skillet until each side is slightly crisp/browned and completely warmed through (if you are not using a non-stick skillet, sauté slices a little bit of butter). The tomato jam is warmed up (if it thickens too much add one tablespoon of water at a time) and served alongside or on top of the slices of the bread pudding. Like most bread puddings, it is rich and satisfying comfort food. It is the complete meal (eggs, bacon, bread, and cheese) for brunch/breakfast or the perfect accompaniment (to grilled chicken) for dinner.


The Tomato Jam served warm, however, it is insanely delicious (my word of the month is insane, not the best culinary descriptor, but one of two favorite words at the moment). Any leftover Tomato Jam can be served on toast or a bagel spread first with either cream cheese or ricotta cheese. If you are not ready to take on making both the Savory Bread Pudding and the Tomato Jam, at least take the proverbial baby step and make the Tomato Jam. I am thinking that once you taste the jam, you might just be wondering how it would taste on the Savory Bread Pudding. No whispering 'not happening' under your breath allowed.
Recipe
Savory Bread Pudding with Warm Tomato Jam (inspired from a recipe created by Matthew Gennuso and Karl Santos and shared in Harvest to Heat: Cooking with America's Best Chefs, Farmers and Artisans)

Ingredients
Bread Pudding
1 pound loaf of day old Italian or French Country Style Bread, crusts removed and cut into large cubes
4 Tablespoons of unsalted butter melted, plus additional for sautéing bread pudding slices if not using a non-stick skillet
1/4 pound smoked bacon, cooked and crumbed, 1 Tablespoon of fat reserved
1 cup heavy whipping cream
3 cups whole milk
3 large eggs
2 egg yolks (from large eggs)
1 1/2 - 2 Tablespoons chopped fresh thyme
1/4 teaspoon Kosher salt
1/8 teaspoon black pepper
1/2 pound soft-ripened cow's milk cheese, broken off into small pieces

Homemade Tomato Jam
4 large ripe tomatoes or 4-6 Heirloom tomatoes (or 1 1/2 pounds), cut into quarters (Note: the sizes of heirloom tomatoes vary, so the number of tomatoes needed will be based on weight.)
1 lemon, thinly sliced and seeds removed
1/2 cup water
3/4 cup granulated sugar
3/4 cup brown sugar

Directions
Bread Pudding
1. Put cubed bread in a large bowl. Toss with melted butter and reserved bacon fat.
2. In a separate bowl, combine milk, cream, eggs, thyme, salt and pepper. Pour mixture over bread cubes and allow to sit for at least 2 but up to 4 hours.
3. Preheat oven to 350 degrees and lightly butter a 9"x5" loaf pan. 
4. Using a slotted spoon, place 1/3 of the bread evenly in the bottom of the dish. Layer half of the crumbled bacon and 1/3 of the pieces of cheese. Repeat layers finishing top of pudding with the cheese only.
5. Place loaf pan in a roasting pan, add enough boiling water to the roasting pan so it comes up to the halfway point of loaf pan. Bake for 1 3/4 -2 hours or until a knife inserted in the center of the bread pudding comes out clean.
6. Allow to cool completely. Once cool remove from pan, placing on a large platter, and cut into 1/2 inch slices. 
7. In a heated non-stick skillet cook slices until lightly browned and heated through. Serve with warmed tomato jam on the side. If not using a non-stick skillet, add some butter to the pan before browning them.
Note: Cooled bread pudding can be covered and refrigerated overnight. When ready to serve, unmold from pan, cut into 1/2 inch slices and cook as described above.

Homemade Tomato Jam
1. Place the tomatoes, lemon slices, water, and both sugars in a medium sized heavy saucepan. Set the heat to low (simmer) and cook until liquid has reduced and mixture has thickened. Stir frequently, particularly near the end to ensure the jam does not scorch the bottom of the pan. Note: Cooking time may range from 2 to 3 hours, depending your simmering heat setting.
2. Remove from heat and allow to cool. If not using immediately, put in a covered jar and place in the refrigerator.
3. When getting ready to serve, reheat jam, adding one tablespoon of water at a time if it is too thick.


Haven't we all dug our heels in or whined about something at least once in our lives? If there are any of you who answer that question 'no not ever', I would say you are an outlier (notice I did not call your ability to tell the truth or your ability to honestly self-reflect into question). Have you ever known someone who has dug their heels in or whined about something? Now, I am thinking you are going to answer that question in the affirmative (notice I didn't say I am not surprised). Admittedly, digging in one's heels and whining are not necessarily admirable qualities but it is our reaction to those behaviors that can either help or hinder us (or others) from moving past them as well as moving through them.

Personally there are a few things in my life I have had difficulty processing, getting past, letting go of. So what might take someone a minute, day or week to work through might take me weeks, months, even years. But my friends who know me, know this about me (one of the downsides of being a first born Virgo) as well as understand the phases of grieving don't have a clearly defined time limit. Is there such a thing as too long? I suppose there are many answers to that question. How a friend pushes or helps us to end the whining, see possibility where none could be seen before, or move from being the victim to being the victor, often depends on what they say and what they do. At the end of day we are the only ones who can make those choices about change for ourselves, but we can't always do it alone. Sometimes we need a friend to help us, not to judge us for our less than endearing shortcomings.