Julia Shanks Recovering Chef and Urban Gardener
I went to a wine dinner last week, and the French winemakers made an interesting observation. When you swirl your wine in the glass clockwise, the wine releases the fruit aromas. If you swirl counter-clockwise, earthy, corky scents fill the glass.
Have you heard or experienced this before? Do you believe it?
I don't grow many flowers, not because I don't treasure them, but because they take up valuable vegetable real estate. I do, however, have lots of tulips planted in the front yard. And my favorite time of spring is when they bloom along with the yellow daffodils. I love the cacophony of color.
It wasn't much, just a few scallion stems. But it was enough to inaugurate the growing season in my garden. And the perfect garnish for dinner tonight.
Claypot Chicken
4 chicken thighs
8 shiitake mushrooms
1 1/2 cup jasmine rice
3 cups water
2 chinese sausage, cut lengthwise
Marinade
2 tbs. oyster sauce
1 tbs. double dark soy sauce
1 teaspoon shiox xing wine
1 teaspoon corn starch
1/2 teaspoon sesame oil
1/2 teaspoon sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon five spice powder
1 teaspoon minced ginger
Scallions to garnish.
1. Combine ingredients for the marinade. Toss in chicken, mushrooms and chinese sausage.
2. In a claypot, combine water and rice. Bring to a boil over high heat. Reduce heat to simmer and cook for 10 minutes. Put chicken, mushrooms and sausage on top.
3. Cover and bake at 350 for 20 minutes, or until chicken is done.
4. Garnish with scallions
UPDATES:
Here's a photo of the Chinese Sausage Package.
Also, I'm submitting this to April's Grow Your Own Round-Up. Founded by Andrea's Recipes, this month's round-up is being hosted by Nate-n-Annie at House of Annie. The growing season in the US may be early, but there's still lots going on.
If you ordered foie gras at Biba restaurant in the mid-1990’s, I apologize. I was just learning how to sear foie gras, and it took me a while to internalize all the nuances of the liver and the cooking pans to really perfect my technique. While I learned, I sent out a lot of portions that were flabby and pale. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate the opportunity to learn at your expense, sometimes cooking as many as 20 portions a night. And the folks that have eaten my foie gras since then thank you too.
Alan Brock is one of them. He ate at Biba at least once a week. I only knew him by name: “Alan Brock’s eating at the bar….” And we’d pull out the special plates, the new ingredients we were experimenting with and cook him the best dish we could imagine at the moment.
At the end of my shift one night, the sous chef came to me with a glass of red wine. This was highly unusual since we only got shift drinks on Saturdays, and then it was only beer. The glass was from Alan Brock and he wanted to thank the cook who prepared his foie gras. Not the chef, not the sous chef, but me, the LINE COOK. YES! I did it, I did it! I finally learned to sear foie gras.
Cooking Foie Gras intimidates both professional and home cooks. They don’t teach you in cooking school, and it’s not readily available at supermarkets. When it is available for purchase, it can cost as much as $60 a pound. Most cooks don’t have the financial wherewithal to experiment with such a persnickety ingredient to learn how to cook it properly.
When I worked at Biba, the butchers would clean the foie gras for me and the other line cooks. They would gently break it open, clean out the blood veins, and piece it back together in perfect 2 ounce portions. Now when I cook foie gras at home, I don’t bother. I either by “A Grade”, which is quite clean, or I buy “B’s”. Then, I slice the liver and use a toothpick to clean out the veins.
Foie Gras shines when it’s seared to a crispy brown, salty crust. But because the liver is 90% fat, it’s imperative that it’s cooked quickly, otherwise it literally melts away and you’re left with sinewy fat. The secret is cold foie, hot pan. After I slice and season the foie gras, I put it back in the refrigerator. I heat the pan over a high flame for a few minutes. When it’s smokin’ hot, I press the foie gras into the dry pan. It immediately sizzles, rendering enough fat to release it from the pan. After 1 ½ – 2 minutes, I flip it over for 5 seconds, just to take the raw edge off the other side. I let the foie gras rest on a slice of toasted brioche. The brioche soaks up all the juices and makes a wonderful accompaniment to the dish.
I love pan sauces with foie gras, which I make while it’s resting. I drain the excess fat from the pan, to which I add minced shallots. They cook quickly from the residual heat of the pan. Then I deglaze with sherry and chicken stock. After it reduces to a thick sauce, I finish it by swirling in a pat or two of butter. Finally, I balance the sauce with a squeeze of fresh lemon and a pinch of salt and pepper.
For Foie Gras – Three Ways, I served it with this:
Five Spice Duck Breast with Spring Green Bao
12 duck breasts
1 tsp. Sichuan pepper
1 tbs. five spice powder
salt
¼ cup sake
1 tbs. hoisin
pinch of chili flakes
1 tbs. chopped shallots
pinch of nutmeg
1 cup chicken broth or stock
butter to taste
Score the skin side of the duck breast. Season meat with salt, pepper and five spice. Cook duck, skin side down over low heat for 10 minutes, or until the fat is rendered and the skin is crispy. Cook breast for 1 minute on flesh side for medium. Remove duck from pan and let rest for 5 minutes before slicing.
To the duck pan: drain off excess fat. Return pan to heat. Add the shallots and chili flakes. Cook for 2 minutes until the shallots are soft. Deglaze the pan with sake. Stir in hoisin and nutmeg. Add chicken broth, and let reduce by half. Swirl in butter to taste.
Spring Green Bao
3 cups AP flour
1 Tbs. Yeast
¼ cup sugar
1 cup hot milk
1 tbs. Soft butter
½ tsp. Baking powder
1. In a small bowl, combine milk and yeast.
2. Put all dry ingredients in mixing bowl with paddle and mix at low speed. Add the milk to make a dough. Then, add the butter. Switch to a dough hook, and knead for 5 minutes. Add the baking powder last, and be sure it all gets incorporated.
3. Place into a lightly oiled bowl and cover…letting rise for 45 minutes.
4. Punch down the dough, and divide into 12 pieces. Let rest for another 10 minutes…then roll out, put a spoonful of filling in middle, and pinch dough around it.
5. Place each bao on a small square of parchment paper, and stem for 10-15 minutes. Don’t crowd your steamer as the bao will almost triple in size while cooking.
Filling
1 tbs. canola oil
3 cups mixed spring greens: pea tendrils, ramps, leeks, spinach
1 tbs. chopped ginger
1 tbs. chopped garlic
2 tbs. soy sauce
1. Heat oil in a large skillet or wok. Add ginger and garlic. Cook for 1 minute, until soft. Add greens, and cook until wilted. Season with soy sauce. Let cool before filling.
No back-story. Last week I was in the mood for foie gras. Since I still have my restaurant connections, I was able to purchase a 1 ½ pound lobe for a reasonable price. I invited a few friends over and we had a little feast.
First Course … Foie Gras Mousse with Spring Vegetables and Truffles
Second Course … Seared Foie Gras with Grilled Eel, Sweet Soy Glaze and Green Apples
Third Course … Five Spice Duck Breast and Foie Gras with Spring Green Bao, Hoisin – Sake Sauce.
Thanks to Emily for taking the photos.
By most urban standards, I have a huge back-yard – 25 feet by 20 feet. And the side yard adds considerably more gardening space at 11 feet by 15 feet. My wonderful neighbors are an eclectic mix of young families and third generation Cantabrigians. The long-timers give continuity to the neighborhood, enabling the new-comers like me (I’ve only been here 7 years) to feel like we’ve lived here all our lives. Every year in June, we close down the street for a pot-luck street party. Considering I live in the center of Cambridge, MA, I have little to complain about.
But as an urban gardener, I face many challenges because I share “the elements” with my neighbors.
My neighbor on the right is attached to my house. The large trees in their back yard don’t shade my garden, but they generate tons of weeds. The leaves sprout seeds, and in the autumn they all fall into my yard. I diligently rake my vegetable beds at the beginning of the season. And every morning, thoughout the gardening season, as I drink my coffee, I religiously pull weeds to prevent an outbreak.
My neighbor’s house (on the left) is about 15 feet away, just the width of my narrow driveway. The driveway provides the perfect break for the morning sun to peer right onto my vegetables. In his back yard, though, he also has several trees. The other neighbors gather under the canopy of shade and spend lazy summer days reminiscing about “the good ole days,” whilst I lament that it filters the midday sun onto my vegetables. And remind myself that trees are a vital element of the urban landscape.
One tree in his yard abuts my property line. In the last few years, it grew sufficiently to shade my prime gardening patch. I trimmed the leaves as best I could on my side of the fence so that I could maximize my sun without hurting his tree. Last year, he very graciously hired a professional tree service to trim the branches from the offending tree.
But then a strange thing happened last summer… all the plants I sowed along the property line died. Could this tree be emitting some sort of toxic resin? As I was preparing my vegetable beds a few weeks ago, I discovered the problem…. This tree had thick, cord-like roots that spread 20 – 30 feet from the base. These roots were strangling my plants.
So what’s an urban gardener to do? If I cut the roots out of my vegetable beds, I risk killing my neighbor’s tree. But if I don’t, I risk losing my vegetables and other plants.
I need your advice. How do I protect my garden and preserve my neighborly relations?
Even the best food stylist needs a good photographer. I am neither, but Ellen has a way of making my food look delicious.
Take for example, this plate of braised shortribs with beet puree and broccoli raab. The colors are spectacular – the electric fuchsia of the beets, the bright green raab and the contrastingly dark braised short ribs.
Can you tell which photo was taken by the professional and which was taken by me? In both cases, I cooked and plated the food.
And perhaps, when Ellen's behind the camera, I spend more time plating and less fussing with my own camera.
In the end, we decided not to add this photo to the portfolio because it still wasn't the best showcase of either of our works.
My friend Amy and I were both hosting our families for Passover this year and decided to collaborate on some of our holiday cooking. As we pulled together our menus and recipes, the inevitable question had to be asked, “Do you like floaters or sinkers?” Of course, we were referring the matzo balls in the soup that precedes every Passover meal around the globe.
Lead bombs may be a more accurate description of the matzo balls I’ve made in the past. As Amy astutely noted, they all really float. Nonetheless, every year I strive for feather light floaters. Every bubbe has her secret, but sadly, I was never taught. My mother, bless her heart, swore upon whipping up the eggs until they tripled in volume. Others advise using seltzer water. And every year, I follow exacting instructions… some years I’ve achieved success, but mostly lead bombs.
Both the seltzer and whipped eggs strive for the same effect – creating air pockets within the batter that expand when cooked. The expanded air pockets get trapped within the dough as it cooks. More air pockets beget lighter balls. The inherent problem with these recommendations is that after you’ve incorporated all these little air pockets, the recipe tells you to let the batter sit for 30 minutes before forming and cooking the matzo balls. During those 30 minutes all the air bubbles deflate and escape. No air-pockets in the matzo balls = lead bombs.
Finally, finally this year, I synthesized all my mistakes and wisdom to create feather light matzo balls. The secret is to make the batter as wet as possible and still hold together when cooked. The water in the batter turns into steam when cooked, pushing against the dough, expanding it to create air pockets. When the matzo balls “set” (i.e. the proteins coagulate and the starches gel), the air bubbles are trapped inside.
And just to be extra safe, I also whipped my eggs until they tripled in volume.
I combined two recipes from Joan Nathan’s “Jewish Cooking in America” If you don’t have this book, and enjoy Jewish cooking, I highly recommend you purchase it. I’ve made the gefilte fish, kugel and many others to rave reviews.
Stuffed Matzo Balls
4 eggs
2 tablespoons chicken fat, melted
½ cup water or seltzer
1 cup matzo meal
Salt and pepper to taste
Stuffing
1 onion, finely chopped
2 tablespoons chicken fat
1 egg
2 tablespoons matzo meal
½ teaspoon cinnamon
1. Whip eggs with an electric mixture at high speed until tripled in volume.
2. To the eggs, add the chicken fat, water and matzo meal. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Let stand for 30 minutes.
3. Meanwhile, make the stuffing: cook the onions with the chicken fat over medium heat, stirring frequently, until the onions are dark brown. Remove from heat and mix in the matzo meal, egg and cinnamon.
4. Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Season generously with salt.
5. Form the matzo balls: with wet hands scoop out about 2 tablespoons of matzo ball mix. Flatten into a round disc around 2 inches around. Put a teaspoon of stuffing in the middle and form the matzo ball around it. Gently place into the boiling water. Repeat this process until all the matzo balls are made – should yield about 12.
6. Cook matzo balls for 30 minutes. Serve with chicken soup.
This recipe doubles and triples well.
Lori Lynn from TaSte WiTh ThE EyEs is hosting a passover round-up, to which I am submitting this recipe. She's posting the round-up on April 15th, but you should go to her blog sooner and often for great recipes and stories.
Growing up, I cooked mostly from the Time-Life Cookbooks. I loved the pictures in The Good Cook series that guided me through the techniques of each recipe. When I tired of those, my mom bought me the Healthy Home Cooking series and then the Great Meals in Minutes. To me, these books were far more interesting than Judy Blume or Nancy Drew. I would browse through the pictures, and ask my mom to buy the ingredients of the most enticing photos.
On the cover of Fresh Ways with Fish & Shellfish was the most enticing photo of Shrimp and Asparagus Wrapped in Sole. I read the recipe once, twice and then after the third time, I finally queried my mom – how was I going to wrap the fish around the shrimp and asparagus to look like the photo? She couldn’t figure it out either, and so she got on the phone to call the editor. I guess at this point in the story, I should mention that she worked for Time-Life Books so it wasn’t completely over the top that she should pick up the phone.
It was at that moment I discovered what food styling is all about: making food look enticing and succulent for the camera. Realistic and edible are not required.
Every once in a while, I will style food for local photographer Ellen Callaway. Together we created a portfolio of food shots. Unlike the recipes I create for my blog, we pick dishes that inherently will work for the camera. Because of that early childhood trauma, I refuse to stage food that is not created according to the recipe accompanying the shot.
For a recent photo shot, I wanted to create a pasta dish with chanterelle mushrooms, but only hedgehogs were available.
Fettuccine with Wild Spring Mushrooms and Parmesan
½ pound fettuccine
3 scallions, cut lengthwise into 4 pieces each
2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
3 tablespoons butter
½ pound chanterelle or hedgehog mushrooms, brushed clean and cut into quarters
3 garlic cloves, sliced
1 shallot, peeled and finely chopped
1 tablespoon fresh thyme, chopped
¼ cup dry sherry
Salt, pepper and lemon juice to taste
Freshly grated parmesan
1. Cook pasta according to package directions. One minute before it’s done, add scallions to the water. Drain pasta and scallion together and toss with olive oil.
2. Meanwhile, heat a large skillet over medium high flame. Add butter. When it’s melted, sprinkle the mushrooms in one layer in the pan. Top with a sprinkling of garlic, shallots, thyme, salt and pepper. Let cook for 3 minutes without stirring. Stir and then let cook for another 3 minutes.
3. Deglaze the mushroom pan with sherry. When mostly reduced, adjust seasoning with salt, pepper and lemon juice.
4. Toss pasta with mushrooms. Serve with freshly grated parmesan cheese.
Some other photos, Ellen took of my food:
Braised Artichokes with Creamy Risotto
Once a year, at least in the US, Coca-Cola bottles a version of its classic soda with sucrose instead of high fructose corn syrup. And it's a time-honored tradition for Coke-fanatics (both Jewish and non) to snatch up every bottle of the Kosher-For-Passover version to last through the year.
Passover starts Wednesday at sundown, and for eight days Jews abstain from eating wheat, legumes, corn and anything else that might be construed as leavening. Apparently, the religious Jews hold a sufficient share of the soda market, because Coke, Pepsi and Canada Dry all make version of their beverages without HFCS. But no soda drinker is quite as fanatical as the Coke drinker.
Last week, while most Jews started their holiday shopping, I began a quest to buy some Kosher-for-Passover Coke. I'm not much of a soda drinker (for both caloric and HFCS reasons), but was nonetheless curious to see if I could taste the difference between the two versions. At the kosher market, crates of soda lined the front wall. One and two liter bottles and 12 ounce cans of every variety and style. Except Coke — only the 2-liter bottles remainded. When I inquired if there were more of the smaller sizes in back, I was told no, but there was still plenty of Pepsi — proving the point that Coke breeds a higher degree of loyalty.
The verdict: The sucrose Coke seemed lighter and a bit cleaner in taste. The HFCS coke had the same degree of sweetness but it seemed to assault my taste-buds. The differences were subtle but perceptable. Perhaps, if I drank soda (and Coke specifically) on a more regular basis, the difference would be more stark.
Have you bought sucrose sweetened soda before? Can you taste the difference?
My family arrives on Wednesday for the first seder — including my mom and aunt who grew up drinking Coke. I'll save a bottle for them to see if they can taste the difference.
