ElizabethYalkut.com | a very uncommon cook

Plums

August 7th, 2010 § 0

by Catherine Savage Brosman

They’re Santa Rosas, crimson, touched by blue,
with slightly mottled skin and amber flesh,
transparently proposing by their hue
the splendor of an August morning, fresh

but ruddy, ripening toward fall.—”So sweet,
so cold,” the poet said; but this one’s tart,
its sunny glow perfected in deceit,
as emulation of a cunning heart.

I eat it anyway, until the pit
alone remains, with scattered drops of juice,
such sour trophies proving nature’s wit:
appearances and real in fragile truce.

photograph by lepiaf.geo

fiat panis

July 9th, 2010 § 0

photograph by Veganbaking.net

fiat panis

invisible under my hands
beings I will never understand
bring them to life
feed them
shelter them

then heat
radiant like sunshine
reaching out like fingers

and all the care I lavished
was the condemned’s last meal

yeast dies so I might eat, might live
so I might feed you

This week’s prompt at Big Tent Poetry is to change a word relationship. (Check out the rest of the poems at the come one, come all post!)

Despite not attending any of the educational institutions which use the phrase fiat lux from Genesis 1:3 as their motto, I’ve always loved it (especially in the Latin fiat lux et facta est lux). The link of light and creation seems right to me, and when I was tossing around phrases for which I have a fondness, to see how I could play with them, it struck me that linking creation and bread is another common trope, and the intersection would be worth exploring. I didn’t expect the poem to end up quite where it did, but that happens in poetry the way it happens in baking: “what you mean the pie crust isn’t browning?, I wonder what would happen if I used honey instead of white sugar in this, you know what this recipe needs is an egg wash.”

sugar snap peas

July 5th, 2010 § 0

There are sugar snap peas at the farmer’s market now. I don’t know what magic Samscott Farms uses, because they have every vegetable a week or two earlier than the other stands at the market, but I’m grateful for it. I eat sugar snap peas like candy.

No, wait. I eat sugar snap peas the way you’re not supposed to eat candy: by the fistful. I eat them dipped in hummus, blanched in the boiling water with pasta the last few seconds it’s cooking, by themselves, stir-fried, and pretty much any other way I can think of. And they are uniformly delightful.

photograph by EraPhernalia Vintage

(They’re not that great in flax-enhanced oatmeal with soy sauce, though. If I hadn’t added the flaxseeds, which I find sweet, it would have been delicious.)

[No price is set on the lavish summer; June may be had by the poorest comer. - Lowell]

June 19th, 2010 § 0

In some ways, summer sucks for me in terms of cooking. Oh, I delight in the all the myriad delicious things in the farmer’s market, I relish the chance to eat everything raw, and the extended daylight hours means I get the chance to explore markets other than my local one, but still. Summer is the season when my roommates go away on fellowships and family command performances. Right now, my roommates are in three different states. Possibly three different time zones, I’m not sure. And I can’t cook for them.

I’ve mentioned before that cooking for one isn’t my idea of a good time. When you cook for yourself, no one pays you compliments! And there’s no one around to chat with while doing boring prep work, and no one to delegate the dishes to. What, I ask you, is the point of that?

So lately I have been making a lot of one-pot steamed-rice-and-fish-fillet-and-vegetables dinners. I mean, they’re good, don’t get me wrong, but there is a limit to how many times I can talk about them and be excited. I can swap out the seasonings (I’ve taken to cooking the rice in instant miso soup, for example) and change the kind of fish (haven’t gotten up the nerve to try steaming bluefish yet, I admit, but hake and cod and haddock have all been delicious) and vegetables (there are some days I have been unmotivated enough to use frozen mixed vegetables, I will not lie). But that’s about it.

It also doesn’t help that it is hot in New York City in the summertime. I live on a relatively high floor, so I can catch breezes off the Hudson, but I don’t have air conditioning, and sometimes the prospect of turning on the oven or even a burner is enough to make my spirit wilt. I’m not ashamed to admit that I will occasionally have popsicles for dinner when it gets over eighty-five degrees Fahrenheit. (Edy’s has pomegranate popsicles! They are delicious and corn-syrup free. I recommend them.)

photograph by Pink Sherbet Photography

So honestly, that’s why it’s been quiet around here recently; I’m steaming vegetables and rice and eating raw produce and popsicles, and neither of those is much to talk about.

[things I've tried to have]

May 30th, 2010 § 2

Oh my God, I hate moving.

Yeah, I know, no one likes moving. But oh god I am sick of it. (I have moved house twelve times in the last six years, and that was with living in the same place for two of those years. Two of those moves were transatlantic.) I have at least two more ahead of me, but one of these days, I will (a) stop moving, and (b) stop losing my stuff in moves.

What happened to my cookie sheets? Where is my damn nonstick pan for scrambled eggs? I know I had more saucepan lids than this!

So I spent a profitable hour or two (or three, or four…) in Bowery Kitchen Supply, which contrary to its name is located in Chelsea Market, and am now the gleeful owner of several things without which I can’t really function.

Every now and then, the foodblogosphere posts about outfitting the minimalist kitchen or how a no-frills kitchen still cooks or My Essential Kitchen Tools or build your own $blogname kitchen. (This is not meant to disparage any of the posts linked or even the genre of post itself; I love those posts. I bookmarked them!) And now it is my turn!

Writing this post is like writing that particular genre of science fiction which David Hines calls a much-maligned, much-loved genre which, for lack of a better name, I call “Man Builds Stuff and Gets Lots of Pussy.” Technical details about which no one cares but oneself and a very small, self-selected audience! It is awesome.

photograph by Charles Haynes

Ahem.

whetstone
three wooden spoons
Pyrex loaf pan
set of three bamboo steamers
carbon steel wok

Seriously, this is like 85% of what I need in the kitchen. (The other things which spring to mind and which I did not have to purchase include a cutting board, decent chef’s knife, mid-sized saucepan…)

Okay, I didn’t lose my wok in the move. That is because I did not own one. I had been getting by with a really big saucepan, but that was just not cutting it anymore. Carbon steel, you guys. A carbon steel wok. I own it. It is ALL MINE.

And now I’m going to go season it in the oven. I’m going to scrub it and coat it with canola oil and put it in a warm oven and scrub it again and coat it with oil again and put it back in the oven, and then I’m going to do that AGAIN, and then I will have a seasoned wok. Yeah, I know, you’re jealous.

[I've been thinking of you]

May 27th, 2010 § 2

The most exciting thing that I have done in the last few weeks has been to sign up for my local CSA; the list of past box contents was partially in Spanish, which is equally exciting — language and food are two of my great loves, and the prospect of getting to brush up on my Spanish vocabulary, cook with delicious food, meet people who care about sustainable food policy and practice, and support something in which I believe….well. I am not overstating the case when I say this was the best part of my last few weeks. Although the asparagus, ramps, and rhubarb showing up in the farmer’s market was up there, too.

Asparagus scrambled eggs! Rhubarb and dumplings! Ramp biscuits! Pasta with sautéed asparagus and ramps! And I have fallen in love with sunflower shoots; they hold their crisp texture so well in the wok and are such a cute shape. (Yes, aesthetics are an important part of my kitchen considerations.)

And today we got strawberries for the first time all year!

I may just lie on my bed and eat strawberries and stare out the window at the sliver of the Hudson I can see. Or maybe I will tell you about the saffron orzo with asparagus & bacon I made recently. Yeah. That sounds like a plan.

Because it was the most amazing color. Saffron looks unassuming, but when cooked, it is sheer alchemy.

photograph by courtneyBolton

Just for the color, I would make the recipe again. It was a little bland, but that can be fixed next time by adding more bacon. (Or more Parmesan! It is hard to go wrong with more cheese.)

Crisp slivers of bacon in a saucepan over medium-high heat; remove and drain on paper towels. In the melted fat in the saucepan, toss a heaping cup of orzo for a minute, and then pour in three cups of stock and a half-teaspoon of crushed saffron threads. Bring to a boil, lower heat to medium, and cover. Stir occasionally. When almost all the liquid is absorbed, which shouldn’t take more than ten minutes or so, add half-inch pieces of fresh asparagus (I don’t have a scale, so I don’t know how much it was, maybe a pound of so? two bunches from the market stall) and cover for a minute or two longer. (I like my vegetables really crisp, so you may want to add the asparagus earlier.) Stir in the bacon and a half-cup to a cup of grated Parmesan, salt and pepper to taste. Serve immediately.

I suspect this will adapt when asparagus leaves the market, as it always does; peas would be good to replace the asparagus, and I bet broccoli stems will be good in the winter. I really like the texture, even if the flavoring was a little muted when I paid attention to the original recipe at epicurious.

tea reviews [tea is suggestive of a thousand wants, from which spring the decencies and luxuries of civilization. -Repplier]

April 17th, 2010 § 0

All from Adagio. (Please note, in line with the Federal Trade Commission’s Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising, I do not receive any material benefit from linking to merchants.)

photograph by chadao

Scorpio blend

Honestly, I thought I was going to hate Scorpio; I tend not to be fond of sweet teas, and chocolate tea is one of my bête noires. This is, on the contrary, a lovely complex tea, which steeps to a gorgeous warm color. The combination of flavors sounds so weird, but it works out really well, floral and smooth, and I ended up hiding the tin from my roommate so I could have it all to myself.

A Happy New Year blend

This Happy New Year blend was a gift from a friend, and my roommates loved it. I was not as fond of it as they; it was too sweet for me, and it did not take well to milk. When I say my roommates loved it, I mean that we went through a quarter pound in less than a month, and that was with me avoiding it in favor of pretty much anything else.

Yunnan Jig

Oh, this Yunnan is a pleasure to drink; the leaves are pettable. They can be steeped twice, which always makes me happy, and there’s no bitterness in the aftertaste at all. I had to go light on the milk, but that did not stop me from wanting to re-order when it was gone.

oolong leaves after steeping in a palm of a hand

photograph by J Wynia

Ceylon Sonata

This Ceylon is the lightest one I’ve got. I feel like I’m damning with faint praise when I say that this is a really nice tea, but it is. It is straightforward and delicious and nice, and I have nothing bad to say about it. I just…don’t have anything interesting to say about it, either. It is tea, and I like it.

Assam Melody

This is a strong, smooth Assam, with a lovely color. It’s not as malty as some other assams I have had, which can be a good or a bad thing, depending on my mood, and the leaves really unfurl in the first steeping, which can also be a good or a bad thing. I will almost certainly be re-ordering this.

Keemun Concerto

I am not a fan of this one — it tastes thin, is the best way I can express it. Glancing at steepster, I see people using the word “astringent” a lot, and I guess that works as a description for this Keemun. I have liked Keemuns in the past, most notably Keemun Panda #1, but this one does not live up to the precedent.

And now I am off to make a cup of tea!

Puttanesca

April 6th, 2010 § 2

by Michael Heffernan

Before I gave up wondering why everything
was a lot of nothing worth losing or getting back,
I took out a jar of olives, a bottle of capers,
a container of leftover tomato sauce with onions,
put a generous portion of each in olive oil
just hot enough but not too hot,
along with some minced garlic and a whole can of anchovies,
until the mixture smelled like a streetwalker’s sweat,
then emptied it onto a half pound of penne, beautifully al dente,
under a heap of grated pecorino romano
in a wide bowl sprinkled with fresh chopped parsley.
If you had been there, I would have given you half,
and asked you whether its heavenly bitterness
made you remember anything you had once loved.

photograph by The Gifted Photographer

kasha varnishkes

March 29th, 2010 § 0

This is childhood comfort food for me. It is apparently delicious and gorgeous even if you do not have a sentimental affection for it. (I base the preceding sentence on the reaction of the friends I served this to recently, who would not shut up about how good it looked and tasted. To which I had no objection, I was just a little puzzled by — kasha varnishkes? really? you’re waxing eloquent over kasha varnishkes?)

photograph by mtcarlson

I come by this dish honestly; it is a classic part of Ashkenazi cuisine, along with borscht, gefilte fish (which I hate; in my defense, I hate quenelles too, and gefilte fish is the poor man’s quenelles), and matzoh brei. Kasha is buckwheat groats, so this is actually a whole grain dish. (Of course, it’s made, traditionally, with chicken schmaltz and lots of salt, so some of the virtue in most whole grains isn’t really a part of this.) I like it with onions and mushrooms, and a little parsley on top so it’s not entirely neutral colors on the plate.

I am going to assume you know how to cook farfalle, mostly because talking about how to boil pasta is more boring than almost anything else I know, and I have a low threshold for boredom today. Make a half-cup of farfalle for every person whom you’re serving, and make sure it’s not raw in the middle; the kasha is chewy enough that this is the one dish that I go a little beyond al dente for.

While the pasta is cooking, toss a cup of kasha with an egg in a small bowl. You can increase from here, assuming half a cup of kasha per person, but you can’t go down — this is not a food that takes well to small quantities. When the grains are coated in egg, set aside.

Gently sauté sliced onions and mushrooms (canned button mushrooms are perfectly fine) until pale gold and soft. Over a medium flame, add egg-coated kasha and stir until the grains have dried and separated.

Add 2 cups water or stock to the kasha and cover. Raise the heat to high and let steam for ten minutes, or until the kasha is tender and the liquid is absorbed. Add drained farfalle, toss to combine, season (salt, pepper, parsley, coriander) to taste. Serve warm.

I’m pretty sure this is not kosher for Pesach, but I’m totally happy to be corrected if someone has evidence that it is! (In general: nothing is ever kosher for Passover. That is how Passover works.)

Ada Lovelace Day

March 24th, 2010 § 3

March 24 is Ada Lovelace Day, one of my favorite holidays. It’s a day celebrating the achievements of women in science and technology, and people are asked to blog about their tech heroines. There are any number of people I could talk about, but I have decided to do something a little different. I’m not going to talk about the Open Source community, or the Dreamwidth developer community, or even the Organization for Transformative Works, close as they all are to my heart (I’m on the Board of Directors of OTW, full disclosure, and I love the org to death). I’m going to talk about Carol Blymire of the blog Alinea at Home.

I don’t know Carol. I’m not even sure I’ve ever commented on her blog. But I admire her a lot.

She is cooking her way through a pretty complex cookbook. She is using tools that are out-of-the-ordinary (dude, I don’t have a dehydrator in my kitchen. I definitely didn’t know that there was a special kind of ziplock bag for sous-vide cooking) and tools that are in every kitchen (a wee little blender!). She is learning things along the way. She is funny and profane and honest and doesn’t give a damn about the nonsense best summed up by the 2007 New York Times article “Kitchen Chemistry is Chic, but Is It a Woman’s Place?” That’s the article which contains the assertion you could “[r]ound up all the women entranced by high-tech cuisine in America, and they could easily fit into a Jacuzzi. Some of the most experienced female chefs are persuaded that the new cuisine will never attract many women. It’s just too … male. ”

I can hear the woman behind Alinea At Home rolling her eyes.

Food is awesome, playing with food is awesome, and playing with food because you have cool tools is just as awesome as the low-tech method; it always makes me smile when a new Alinea At Home post shows up in my RSS reader because I know that Carol’s sense of fun and play will come through, even if the attempt at a recipe didn’t work out as well as she would have liked. She’s always curious, and that is why I want to point to her as my tech heroine for Ada Lovelace Day this year.

A Very Uncommon Cook

Plums