~ firefly-dreaming a virtual home to learn (or teach!) alternative methods of solving problems we find facing us each day. By sharing ideas & knowledge on living with less stress, more joy & embracing tolerance & compassion we are working towards building a sustainable future for all living beings.
I have a little Imperia pasta machine at work and I amuse myself with pasta experiments whenever I have the time - which happens to be in short supply these days, as extra work duties seem to have multiplied to cover up for the inevitable loss of income we all seem to be going through, worldwide.
Still, there is always a silver lining in the darkest of cloud and this economic downturn allows most of us to go back to the basics, prudently economize and utilize less, and it forces us to come up with a better and more efficient menu at home. Case in point: you can purchase the above machine for less than $50 on Ebay or Craigs (mostly unwanted gifts) and make fresh pasta at a fraction of the cost you'd pay in a supermarket.
It's the time of the year when the "Tales from the Larder" series takes a summer break. As we say here in seasonal Dingle, "see you in September." Until then, I leave you with France's most popular dish, the fabled couscous. Its popularity is such that it has become the number one dish served in most regions, and the hidden beauty of it is that it can be prepared as a succulent meat dish, or as a seafood extravaganza or as a sumptuous vegetarian feast, as the pic below attests.
For me, the traditional Algerian version, the couscous Royale (without cheese!) - with lamb, chicken, merguez, chick peas (garbanzo) and served with a steaming bowl of spicy broth laced with harissa is de rigueur. I had the good fortune of having been raised in a seasonal hotel on the Riviera, and was taught how to prepare the Berber version by one particularly genial Kabyle man, Abel, and I am grateful to this day to have had not only his friendship but also inherited his culinary taste in all things North African.
During my days as a chef/restaurateur in Sydney I tended to look down on some traditional dishes such as Beef Bourguignon, Coq au Vin and names like Tournedos Rossini, Lobster Thermidor and just about anything with the words Cordon Bleu for good measure. Quite a few of us upcoming young turks & hot headed chefs would sneer at such fuddy daddy fare, and would make loud, derisive noises whenever we came across menus that would have those dinosaurian dishes on offer.
Then one day, during one of my annual visit to Paris, I stumbled upon this "new" eatery in Montparnasse and ate one of the most memorable meal: a medley of well known and well tried dishes & diehard traditionals, lovingly cooked and presented. Its menu was an exercise in simplicity & brevity: six appetizers, six main courses and six divine desserts. The menu changed every three months, reflecting the seasons and staying perilously close to Escoffier's highly codified French cuisine.
If you enjoyed last week's demonstration on how to make a proper terrine, you will like this week's recipes: pâtés a-go-go! One of the most incredible pâté I've made was with monkfish livers. This happened a few years ago here in Eire. I was talking to a fisherman I knew on the pier, and being ever vigilant when food is concerned, I asked him why he didn't keep the livers from the pile of freshly caught monkfish. He answered that he didn't have a market for it and cleaned the fish out at sea, good for the seagulls et cetera. I asked him to keep them for me next time he goes out. The following week I became the recipient of a full bucket filled with the little buggers. And for free! Pic below is of the monk liver pâté.
I spent the next hour cleaning the livers and marinated them in a mix of muscat wine, a dash of raspberry vinegar and fresh herbs: lemon thyme, cilantro and chervil. A good pinch of coarse grey salt and some cracked black peppercorns added the seasoning. The following day, I placed half the livers on a baking dish (roughly 2 pounds), poured the marinade liquid and added a half pound of unsalted butter in cubes, and baked them for 1 hour in a medium heat oven (180C, 356F), took it out of the oven, added another half pound of cubed butter and baked again for half an hour. After cooling off, I blended them into a food processor, checked seasoning, and when smooth, I poured the paste into a few small terrines which were lined with cling film. When finished, I put the terrines into a refrigerator and waited for two days (mind you, I had a taste prior to refrigerating) before serving. I gave one terrine to the fisherman who was astounded at the results. The moral of the story is that one should never discard edibles, a use might be found. The other side of the coin, so to speak, is that my friend the fisherman had started to keep the livers of all the fish he caught and made some extra money in the process.
I remember making my first pâté when I was a snotty eight year-old: my great grandmother was busy preserving mushrooms in the main kitchen and I was on the lookout for something to eat. I opened a tin of sardines and mashed it into a paste with an equal amount of butter. My great grandmother remarked that if I were to lay the paste onto a sheet of grease-proof paper and refrigerate it, it would become firm in a matter of minutes like rillettes, and presto! I was hooked. Pic below is of a country terrine, wrapped in vine leaves.
That week she taught me how to make a proper chicken liver pâté, and a few years later I ventured into making terrines, a charcuterie trick that may look complicated to master but is in fact a lot easier once you learn the art of bricklaying. Bricklaying? Surely, you jest. Not really. I will demonstrate how to make the perfect game terrine without breaking a sweat!
Next week I'll write about pâtés, and will include my version of chicken livers soaked in a Sauternes wine, and liberally interspersed with tiny chorizo cubes.
Throughout my life people have asked me this question: "if you were to have your last meal on Earth, what would be it be?" My answer has remained the same, a study in muted consistency: a large platter of charcuterie alongside a medley of Corsican goat cheeses, crusty French baguettes and washed down by as many bottles of Château Pétrus as I could possibly drink...I mean, if it is indeed the last supper, who's worrying about a spot of indigestion coupled with a hangover?
According to my trusty Larousse encyclopedia, the etymology of charcuterie is from "chair cuit", which roughly translated, becomes "cooked flesh". Since refrigeration and freezing is relatively modern, the need to preserve meat to be stored for later use was invented, like all good things, out of necessity. Whilst fish was salted and marinated, meat was cured, smoked, dried, brined, hung in darkness and subjected to many shapes and form, from the majestic salami to the humble sausage; the rustic pâté cooked with lard to the exquisitely delightful andouille; the wondrous rillettes to the delicately perfumed Jambon de Bayonne. And much, much more.
If I had the time (and the inclination) I would write a whole book about cold cuts and their origins: this is the abbreviated version, the Shakespeare of Saussisson, as it were, in three small acts.
Or should I have titled it Superfoods of the Gods? I chose the former because as a precocious & nerdy kid, I had written my own paragon of gods as a companion piece to Greek & Roman mythology, my favorite subject, and named it the "Supergods". In my quirky world, gods were supergods - and in my feverish imagination - while they performed their supernatural duties, they ate and drank the very best because, you know, they could have anything they desired. Pic below is of my two favorites goddesses, Demeter and her daughter, Persephone.
Ironically, due to a misstep, I am laid up in bed with a twisted ankle. Disliking lying about, I consulted my notes on superfoods to see if my ankle would benefit from a dose of goodness (answer is no, just rest & drink plenty of water), and one thing leading to another, I started thinking about my juvenile attempt to create more gods than we need and it led me to write another piece about foods which give the body the best and healthiest results. Yesterday, in timely fashion, I received an email alert from the University of Scranton, Pennsylvania, in which the result of a study on walnuts declared it the best food with the most antioxidant properties.
This time last year I wrote the Brain Foods diary, a piece on some of the healthiest foodstuffs so I'm not going to duplicate those items today (there are over 200 foods which can be listed as super foods, so if you don't see yours here, do not panic, it merely reflect my own choice).
I try to list items that are widely available and reasonably priced and if you could add your favorite health food here, it would help all of us.
As with the humble potato, it's hard to think that such a widely-used food source was once considered deadly poisonous (up until the end of the eighteenth century, physicians warned against eating tomatoes, fearing they caused not only appendicitis but also stomach cancer from tomato skins adhering to the lining of the stomach!)
The tomato, as I see it, is an enormous, shiny berry. And, in fact it is.
Tomatoes belong to the genus Lycopersicon, which is in the same family, Solanaceae, as potatoes. The resemblance betwixt leaves and flowers of potato and tomato plants seems to validate this taxonomic grouping.
The tomato still grows wild in the Peruvian Andes, the land of its origin, but the small, wild tomato does not bear a great deal of resemblance to the red, plump and juicy fruit that we use in so many hot & cold dishes. According to most tomato pundits, Cortez discovered the red devils growing in Montezuma's gardens and brought seeds back to Europe where they were planted as ornamental vines but never eaten.
Most likely the first variety to reach Europe was yellow in color, since in Spain and Italy they were known as pomi d'oro, meaning yellow apples. Italy was the first to embrace and cultivate the tomato outside South America.
We French, because we can, referred to the tomatoes as pommes d'amour, or love apples, as they thought in those days to have some kind of aphrodisiacal properties. How wrong were they! Missed the oyster's zinc content by a mile!
In 1897, some soup mogul named Joseph Campbell came out with condensed tomato soup, a move that set the company on the road to wealth as well as, several decades later, further enhancing Andy Warhol's career to the general public.
I'm fond of repeating this story, at least once a year: as a nerdy kid growing up in the south of France, March 17th was a sacred day for me, the only day I personally celebrated. I had the firm belief that this day was made for me and for me alone since I didn't like birthdays, Christmas & Easter. This one had my name attached to it, nested right in the middle of my favorite month, and as I fancied myself as the snake's greatest nemesis, I confirmed myself a saint. Imagine my discomfiture when, at age 11 or 12, I was told in no uncertain words that Saint Patrick was some other bloke who lived in Ireland a long, long time ago, and armed with his crosier, banished all of his snakes from the emerald isle in a jiffy! Well, guttered, I spent the next couple days in a comatose state, pondered my fate and like the Phoenix, rose quickly through the ashes and ordained myself as a near-God instead. Take that, Saint Patrick! I was to be addressed as: ''The Master of the Universe Whose Body Shines like The Sun; whom God has created as Perfect as The Full Moon', Whose Eyes Shine like The North Star', Who, rising, casts a Mighty Shadow upon His Whole domain', The Kings of Kings Whom all other princes obey', The Almighty director of Ebb and Flow, The Regulator of seasons....it went on to great lengths and I ruled my own imaginary kingdom until hitting puberty, and then girls took over. Oy vey!
Saint Patrick's Day (Irish: Lá Fhéile Pádraig) is a religious holiday celebrated internationally on 17 March. It is named after Saint Patrick (c. AD 387-461), the most commonly recognized of the patron saints of Ireland. It originated as a Catholic holiday and became an official feast day in the early 17th century. It has gradually become more of a secular celebration of Irish culture.
I adore garlic. And who doesn't? Apart from my porridge and desserts (though I have made a garlic flavored ice cream in the past), it's in everything I cook. I can't tell enough you how incredibly healthy it is (perhaps you have read my garlic diaries, here and here). So, what's up with this bulb? A garlic war on your doorsteps, no less. How so? Here are the stakes:
The U.S. consumes about 300 million pounds of fresh or peeled garlic annually, and consumption is growing as garlic moves from a primary ingredient in many ethnic dishes to a mainstay in American kitchens and restaurants. The growing consumption would seemingly paint a bright picture for California garlic production, but the drop in acreage gives a clue otherwise. The reason: China.
Here's the maths: China went from 50,000 pounds of garlic a decade ago to 2 million to 3 million pounds last year, flooding the market with fresh and dehydrated garlic. So what's the problem, we're getting cheap garlic. Well, yes, but much of the garlic exported to the U.S. is dehydrated and may contain high levels of lead.
Sometimes I should remain silent. Last week I dared myself into writing a diary based entirely on my remembering the cuisine served in a Vietnamese eatery I frequented during the late seventies in Sydney: a culinary remembrance of sorts, and a challenge to having to rely on my sputtering cerebellum and the questionably fuzzy area of the gray matter surrounding it.
Surely, I thought to myself, if I can remember pilfering my father's cache of goat cheese at age three, this ought to be a snack....and in a sense, it is, thanks to the Vietnamese clean, tasty and healthy cuisine, with its abundance of fresh herbs, pungent broths, and their use of vegetables as meat gets relegated to a condiment rather than the main act.
Conjuring up those memories and the wonderful smells in my writing room, currently in the rural west of Eire, my mind wanders to 1977 and in no time (pun intended) I am sitting in the tiny upstairs dining room of this now long gone but not forgotten eatery. The room is sparsely furnished, twelve to fourteen disparate chairs, crisp, floral linen carefully stretched out onto each of the four tables, a small window overlooking a busy Oxford Street, three small Oriental wooden etchings displayed in an ascending angle towards the ceiling, and a lonely palm tree standing guard by the stairs. Calm, unassuming and a perfect setting for eating on a quiet Sunday night with family and friends.
A few years ago I wanted to open up a new business and call it Wilder Rice, the idea being a new kind of healthy eatery, with a friendly, casual setting & open kitchen, and serving only tasty stir-fries made with wild rice, red rice from Camargues and Thai Jasmine. That year was 2001. All hell broke loose, the world took a wrong turn and money dried up. A couple of years later I opened up a wine bar instead, thinking that if unforeseen disasters were to occur, I would lock the doors and drink myself stupid. I did hold that particular thought for a minute or two. But, back to the wild rice....
This is the fourth and last installment on this fantastic grain: the wild aquatic grass called zinzania from which wild rice is derived is no relation to the rice plant, not even a distant cousin. Basically, it's a cereal grain that grows "wild" in isolated lake and river bed areas of North America. It is also native to ecologically similar regions in Asia. Amazingly, this evolutionarily ancient grain has been found in layers of the earth dating back some 12,000 years! In addition to its role as an important food staple for ancestral peoples, it has provided a unique habitat for fish and waterfowl for thousands of years, an ecosystem of its own right.
Last week I posted the Risotto diary and this week it's the turn of the humble but incredibly healthy Brown Rice. Next week, stay tuned as it will be all about Wild Rice (and Red Rice, from Camargues, near my neck of the woods)
Now I know that brown rice is not "sexy" like its hulled counterpart but it does pack a huge wallop of vitamins and minerals such as magnesium, iron, selenium, manganese, and the vitamins B1, B2, B3, and B6. Additionally brown rice is also a good source of dietary fiber, protein, and gamma-oryzanol. It is said to substantially reduce the risk of colon cancers as well as minimizing the amount of time cancer-causing substances. So what's not to like?
noon~
During my heydays as a chef/restaurateur in Sydney, some of us young turks would meet in a late-late night place on a Saturday night (read Chinese restaurant), eat & drink till dawn because most of us would be off on the Sunday, sometimes play poker (a game that obviously eluded me since I have managed to lose a fair deal of money), gossip copiously and exchange funny stories of customer behavior, the good the bad and the ugly. As the wine and various lubricants flowed abundantly, conversation would inexorably turn to our kitchen staff and tricks of the trade.
There were three standards by which we would judge a young chef's ability to cook, and have a future in this cutthroat's world of cooking: a basic stock, which, if made well, would become a demi-glace , a simple three-egg omelet (you think it's simple? Try it) , and the dreaded risotto.
By which I mean a kick-ass risotto, not the gluey, choke-your-mother-in-law stuff most aspiring cooks turn out (apologies to MiLs, I have one as well!
For those of you who may have missed last week's piece, it was uncharacteristically devoid of recipes, and as the quote goes, good things come to those who wait. So this week I'll write about my three favorite rice dishes (outside sushi, pilafs & curries) namely Paella from Spain, Nasi Goreng from Indonesia and a simple but stunning Jasmine Coconut Rice from Thailand.
Next week will be the turn of brown rice, the week after that will be devoted to risotto and lastly, the next piece (it may be in two parts) will be about the glorious wild rice and its infinite uses!
Please leave your rice recipes here, we are hungry!
