Tales from Vietnam – The Friends and Family Verison

I don't normally post non-food related pieces on my blog, but this seems the best way to share my travel-log and photos with friends and family. Be forewarned… it's long. Links will lead you to more food-related blog posts. Text by Julia, Photos by Emily.

The trip was off to a good start. After Emily and I checked in at JFK, we stood back finishing our bottled water before going through the security line. As we gulped, the ticket agent approached us with new boarding passes — we had been upgraded to business class! What a wonderful present and way to begin the journey — with a seat that reclines flat for the 15 hour flight. When we landed in Saigon, we were met by a Mercedes Limo provided by the hotel. The refined experienced halted as soon as we hit the streets. In Saigon — a city of 8 million people and 4 million motorbikes (and if you figure that on each bike there's usually an extra passenger or 3, it really amounts to one bike per person) — the traffic is insane.

As we snaked between cars, motorcycles and bicycles, we spent 30 minutes traversing the 8KM ride from the airport to the hotel. Saigon (or Ho Chi Minh City as it's technically called) is the largest city in Vietnam. During the dry/cold season, highs are in the 90's – just like the DC summers: hazy hot and humid. We arrived on 26 December — and the Christmas decorations were still up in full force — a light spectacle that lined the streets, hip-swaying, blow-up Santa’s, and light festooned Christmas trees. The kitschy Christmas music blared through shop doors onto the streets. Saigon can be a bombardment on the senses on a basic day, and the Christmas spirit added a whole new dimension.


On the first night, we took a walk to get a basic lay of the land. Our hotel was in District 1, the central business district — with lots of shops — both high end such as Versace and Louis Vitton, and typical street vendors — and lots of food stalls. We found a food stall along a small side street and made our first foray into Vietnamese cuisine. We ordered the fried spring rolls and traditional pancake (Banh Xeo) made with rice flour and stuffed with mung beans, sprouts, pork and shrimp. All is served with the ever present nuoc mam — a dipping sauce based with fish sauce and spiked with garlic and chilies. With 2 beers and a side of sautéed morning glory — our first meal was just over $4 USD.

Our first morning — Emily went to the gym and I began to scout out places for breakfast. We knew that the traditional breakfast is pho – a noodle soup with beef or chicken, lots of fresh herbs and onions. I wanted to find a spot that seemed busy with locals (a sign of particularly good pho?). When we sat down, we ordered two bowls, Pho Bo (with Beef) for me and Pho Ga (with Chicken) for Emily. I had been told that the side condiments of hoisin and sriracha were an American invention, and indeed we did not see any on the table. Instead we saw fresh sliced chilies and garlic soaking in fish sauce. On the side is a plate of more herbs: a combination of basil, roucal and cilantro. We also had fried crullers, which we saw people dipping into their soup. They tasted stale to me, and to my taste did not add to the experience. On the first morning I was hesitant to add the fresh herbs (I am leery of eating anything that isn't peeled or cooked, especially on the first day). I enjoyed my soup that had slivers of ginger.
We walked the streets, learning the art of inching across 4 lanes of traffic. Though there are street lights, lanes and crosswalks, these are merely suggestions — and usually ignored. Motorcycles will go into the lane of opposing traffic if they want to turn or just get where they want to go faster. Everyone honks — I think just as a way to say, "Hey, I'm here" more than "get out of my f*#&@# way!" But sometimes, it is "get out of my f*#&@# way!" I'm starting to get a feel for the different horn blares. It's loud and begins grating on ones senses after just a few hours. To get across the street, you inch one moped at a time. As you start to make your way into the middle of intersection, the bikes will go behind you to make way for you to start moving forward. Within all the chaos there seems to be an organized system.

We wandered the markets — big, loud, smelly (mainly from the durian) and crowded — with anything you could possibly want for sale — kitchen supplies, fabrics, clothes, fruits, meat, etc… We wandered through the markets in Chinatown and through the crowded streets. We bought rambutams and dragon fruit.

Every once in a while we'd see a respite in a small park or a pagoda.

More often, we'd see, streams of mopeds with everything imaginable strapped to their bikes: chicken cages, 100's of pounds of onions, bouquets and baskets of flowers, 5 gallon water jugs.

After a long day of sightseeing and walking the streets, our feet were tired. So we ducked into a foot massage place recommended by the Lonely Planet. After soaking our feet for 5 minutes in a warm mineral bath, they massaged our feet and legs for 45 minutes. And though the place advertised itself as a foot massage, we got a full body massage (fully clothed, of the back, neck, arms and head) for the last 20 minutes. Probably the best $12 spent on the trip.

Most mornings we eat pho. For lunch, we'd find a little shop for dumplings or stir-fried banana blossoms. One day, we ordered a Vietnamese pancake (banh xeo) in the central market.

Overall, Saigon was hot and draining. We spent an afternoon at the hotel pool on the roof deck and ate evening meals at more upscale restaurants. We knew we were not getting the "real" Vietnamese experience, but we needed the respite from the chaos. Our best "refined" meals were at restaurants recommended by the NYTimes in a recent article about things to do if you have 36 hours in Saigon. The first was a Quan an Ngon, across the street from the Reunification Palace (which some say is the best site in Saigon, we thought, "if this is the best, then Saigon's sites are probably not worth much.") We had more spring rolls and banh cha –grilled meat on rice vermicelli. And more sautéed morning glory — our best attempt at getting vegetables into our diet without risking health. The other meal was at the Temple Club – a beautiful colonial style dining room. The food was traditional Vietnamese. We ordered more spring rolls – that came in 4 varieties the traditional fresh, fried, wrapped in batal leaves and, and… I can't remember.

Yes, we did see a few sights. Since much of Vietnam's history is entrenched in war and occupation, the sights reflect this. We visited the Reunification Palace and the Cu Chi Tunnels just outside the city. During the 1960s the Viet Cong maintained control of the rural areas: They created a network of tunnels 10 meters underground in which they lived for 20 years. The created all sorts of decoys and booby traps to keep the enemy from discovering this underground hide out. We crawled through just a small passage — extremely claustrophobic — I could barely handle 5 minutes, I can't imagine living there for 20 years!

Hanoi is the capital but a much smaller city. I would liken the difference of Hanoi and Saigon as Boston to New York. It is still very much a city with a hectic downtown, but the buildings are smaller and the architecture is far more interesting. The weather is more pleasant too, which makes sightseeing more enjoyable. We walked through the crowded streets of the Old Quarter. The sidewalks are narrow, and most people park their bikes on them, forcing pedestrians to walk in the streets, dodging motorcycles and cars.

Several lakes dot the city making for pleasant walks and we have enjoyed them… one has a lovely building in the center, another has an interesting pagoda complex, and another is lined with interesting cafes. Today, New Years Day was an exception –there was a festival along the banks of one lake creating such density it was nearly impossible to traverse the neighborhood. In fact, one woman had to carry her bike over head in order to pass through a particularly dense section.

Our hotel is outside the central district which at first seemed like a bad thing. In fact, it is far better to be on the outskirts of town. To be sure, it's more quiet (though this is relative). But more importantly, there are hardly any tourists. As we wandered the streets of our new neighborhood, we felt we could really get a sense of Vietnamese life. We spent one day just walking in one direction and then the other… One street was lined with Orange Trees. The only time we ran into other tourists was when we passed a pagoda or the Ho Chi Minh Palace Complex.Ho Chi Minh was a revered ruler in Vietnam's history. He is recognized for freeing Vietnam from French Rule. His body is embalmed in a tomb in the center of the Palace Complex. The entire complex is beautiful with manicured gardens, lakes, a palace and a few other buildings. What is truly fascinating is that people line up to take a look at HCM's body. He looks like a wax figure.
In Hanoi, I've been more adventurous into the street food. My new favorite dish is Bun Cha: Grilled Meatballs served in a light fish sauce/dipping sauce/broth. It's garnished with carrots and green Papaya. The woman at the cafe guided us to adding the rice noodles, fresh chilies and garlic to the broth.
Our first bowl of Pho was laced with Kaffir Lime Leaves.

Today, I had my cooking lesson. This one was particularly interesting since it was my first since before I started working at Sebastians. She ran her program just as I did… with all the prep done ahead, enough work to keep the clients interested and plenty of staff to take over the tasks that became monotonous or not interesting. We even received a little present at the end with the recipes. I have mixed feelings in that regard. Maybe I can articulate later. In any case, we made my new favorite dish, the Bun Cha, and spring rolls. I definitely learned a few little techniques — such as frying the rice paper wrapped rolls slowly, so they crisp better. Overall, it was a bit remedial for me.

After the class, I walked through the local meat and produce market. Unlike the markets that I walked through in Saigon, this was less crowded, and I was the only tourist. I was able to watch more of the action without feeling in the way. One curious transaction — a woman was buying a live fish to cook for dinner that night (all the seafood is sold live). The saleswoman started to kill the fish by cutting the head off… a debate ensued, and the fish was killed instead by whacking at its head a few times. I thought, perhaps, the woman wanted to serve the fish whole, with the head attached. But then as I watched longer, the fishmonger scaled the fish, cut off the head and filets it. All parts went into the bag and given to the woman. Perhaps, she felt this method would yield better tasting fish. I would tend to disagree.

Also of note in the market — one woman was selling pates and bologna-type products. Clearly they were homemade. They were wrapped in lotus leaves before they were steamed/poached/cooked

In Hanoi, I experienced my first food defeat in a long time. I was told that the Vietnamese really know how to cook snails… but I couldn't eat them. When the bowl arrived, the snails were at least an inch and half big. I scooped out the first one with a long toothpick and popped it in my mouth. With the first bite, the juice squirted down the back of my throat and down the wrong pipe. It made me gag, but I tried again anyways. Oy. After two, I just couldn't do it. They were too big and chewy. The flavor of the broth was nice…

Halong Bay is a three hour drive east from Hanoi. The bay has thousands of outcroppings (or little islands) that create a dramatic landscape. Caves and tunnels with stalagmites and stalactites formed from hundreds of years sea water rising and falling within them.

The best way to experience the bay is by kayak. This allows the opportunity to explore the caves and other lagoons which are only accessed through the narrow tunnels. We opted for a 3 day, 2 night tour. We stayed on a “junk.” It was hardly junky, but rather a yacht with 8 cabins, a dining room and a full crew of stewards, cooks and a captain. The boat reminded me of river boats of the early 1920s that would cruise down the Mississippi River.

Upon arrival in Halong City, we boarded the junk and immediately began cruising into the bay. We were seated in the elegant dining room – Each table, flanked with wicker settees and white cushions, was set with linen and china. We were served an incredibly fresh (and light) seafood lunch in six courses: steamed shrimp, steamed clams with lemongrass and chilies, steamed crab, Whole fish with a lemongrass-tomato sauce, vegetables and fresh fruit for dessert. Other meals were equally elaborate but none as elegant and delicious in its simplicity as the first lunch.

On our first day, we kayaked en masse with the other tour groups within the bay – there were probably 20 other boats anchored in the same place as us. Unlike most tourists who only booked a single night, we were able to venture out farther into the bay on our second day – and for the most part we did not see other kayaks. We had a peaceful day exploring the bay and the caves, and navigating through tunnels with our tour guide Hai. We kayaked for about 3 hours before lunch with only one misadventure: One of the tunnels is about 40 meters – making a sharp turn after the first 3 meters which blocks all outside light – demands a light to navigate. We did not have any lights but our tour guide was convinced we could make it through. I was hesitant, but didn’t want to be the party-pooper… Emily seemed okay and I knew that Hai had been leading tours in the bay for over 3 years and knew each tunnel like the back of his hand. After about 20 meters in, in pitch black darkness (I’m recalling my first experience with pitch black in Hezekiah’s tunnel with my Dad), after a few head bonks on the ceiling of the tunnel, it became clear that Hai didn’t know his way around the tunnel as well as I had hoped. Our saving grace was the two cell phones Hai was carrying. No, we couldn’t make any calls for help. But we were able to generate enough light from the display screens to determine our location and begin to navigate out. We fumbled for about 20 minutes before we saw the light at the end of our tunnel.

In the afternoon, we kayaked through a floating village. These villages started to appear 3 generations ago when fishermen began building sleeping accommodation for their stints at sea. About 200 families now live in houses built on barges in the bay. They have little canoes to traverse the bay to each others’ homes, the school, temple or tavern. The school only goes for 5 years. For these fishing families, they value of education is not appreciated. Why should it? They live happily amidst the outcroppings with a simple lifestyle. Their main sources of income are seafood and selling snacks and water to the tourists.

On our third day, we cruised back to the mainland and made our way down to Hoi An. Hoi An is a quaint, “ancient” village flanked by the South China Sea and Hoi An River. It is one of the few places in Vietnam that has not been destroyed by war. As such, many of the homes and buildings are several hundreds of years old, and make for interesting exploring. The central part of town is blocked off to cars so the town is infinitely more pleasant to walk around than Saigon on Hanoi.

We stayed at the Victoria Resort and Spa, about 5 kilometers outside of town. We enjoyed morning walks along China Beach and afternoons sunning by the pool.

We took a morning excursion to My Son – the ruins of a Champa Center that thrived between the 4th and 13th centuries. The culture blended Hinduism and Buddhism, which is illustrated in the remains. While much of the ruin have been preserved or restored, there have been, by my interpretation, some “excavation mishaps.” The brick that the Champa used to build their temples had a special resin that held it all together and resisted moss, even over 800 years later. Archaeologists have not been able to recreate this – the restored bricks are covered with moss after just a few years and have begun to crumble. Other structures were covered by aluminum hangers for the excavation and restoration. They discovered that when the old bricks dried, they began to irreparably crumble. Uncovering them, exposing them again to the elements, was not enough to reverse the erosion. Two major structures whither under their protective roofs.
In Hoi An, I took a second cooking class which was far and away better than the class in Hanoi. The class included a market tour, a river boat ride to the school which was several kilometers from the center of town, the cooking demonstration, followed by a sit down dinner. I already knew how to make the fresh spring/salad rolls and the bahn xeo, but I really wanted to learn how to make the rice paper. Finally, I had my opportunity. The batter is made by pureeing raw (soaked) rice with water. Cotton is stretch across a pot of boiling water and is the cooking surface for the paper. A ladle of batter is spread on the cotton and steamed for one minute. The rice paper can be rolled immediately into spring rolls, cut into noodles or stuffed with a savory stuffing (like my breakfast noodles in Hanoi). Alternatively, the rice paper can be dried on bamboo to be used another time.

Just beyond the hotel, in the delta of the Hoi An river are coconut groves. The coconut palms create a maze of canals within the river. During the “American” war (as the Vietnamese call it), the Viet Cong would hide in the groves, underwater, using hallowed bamboo to breathe. A fishing village lines the river. On a afternoon tour of the groves and river, we pad
dled in a round bamboo basket boat, and got a lesson in “industrial” fishing. We cast smaller nets and used a mechanical pulley to reel in the larger nets. At the end of our tour, we feasted on a meal of fresh seafood prepared by our boat’s captain – another star meal: Fried Shrimp Spring Rolls, Stuffed Squid with a Tamarind, Peanut Sauce, and an excellent Banh Xeo.

Hoi An was a great town to walk and explore. The central market is manageably mellow; you can even find women with a Karaoke machine… The fish market is on the shores of the river, on the southern edge of the market. And there are plenty of clothes, sundries and tchotchke shopping. Most people have cloths custom made in Hoi An, but I passed on this experience.

After Hoi An, we returned to Saigon to catch our flight back to the states. But not before we detoured to the Mekong Delta, 3 hours west of the city. The shores of the delta are dense with homes, stores and factories. Floating markets drift along the waterways – boats selling produce wholesale. The fertile soil and mild climate allow its inhabitants to grow a plethora of fruits and vegetables year-round. They make coconut candies and rice paper to export throughout the country. They use the coconut shells to carve spoons and other cooking utensils. The left-over rice husks and coconut shells feed the flames used to cook the candies and rice papers. The left over rice from making the rice paper is fermented into chest-hair-inducing rice wine. While this water-way was not as aesthetically beautiful like Halong Bay or the Coconut Groves in Hoi An, it oozed plenty of charm and intrigue.
Other random thoughts:
The street food was the best food we ate and also the cheapest. A breakfast bowl of pho or ban cha was $1.50 USD. The banh mi pate – a satisfying sandwich on crusty French bread with pate, mayonnaise, pickled vegetables, cilantro and chilies – only $.60

Restaurant meals were less consistent, we had some great meals, and some mediocre. And they typically cost closer to $40 USD for the two of us.

Miraculously and gratefully, we managed to stay healthy despite a heavy dose of street food and raw vegetables.

Lobster with Cioppino Broth and Leeks

Lobster-2--cippino

When I was in cooking school, I interned at Bix in San Francisco. It was my first exposure to the adrenaline and excitement of a restaurant kitchen – and my first experience in the mass quantities of prep. On my first week, someone handed me a five gallon bucket of steamed lobsters to shell. The sous-chef gave me a quick tutorial on how to break them down efficiently and a kitchen towel to use as protection for my hands. Thinking the towels was for sissies, I declined. After more than a dozen lobsters, my hands were shredded by the little shells and spines of the lobster. And, of course, my next task was to juice a case of lemons.

A few months later, I visited my grandmother in Alabama. We order lobsters from the local “fish-monger” (Thinking back on this memory, it’s hard to believe Montgomery, AL had fish mongers selling fresh lobsters in the mid-90’s. But I digress.) I deftly shelled our lobsters in less than 5 minutes. While eating was far easier, it detracted from the fun of digging and picking at the shells for all the meat.

Now-a-days, I rarely eat steamed lobster. Too often it’s overcooked and rubbery. I prefer to cook it at home when I can steam it to my desire of doneness.

In tribute to Bix, I served the lobster at a recent dinner with a Cioppino-style sauce.

Lobster with Buttery Leeks and Spicy Tomato Sauce

6 – 1 1/2 pound lobsters
3 leeks
2 tablespoons butter
1/3 cup olive oil
2 large onions, chopped
1 cup minced celery
1/3 cup chopped fresh parsley
2 tablespoons minced garlic
2 cups canned crushed tomatoes with added puree
1 28-ounce can diced tomatoes
1 cup dry red wine
1 tablespoon red wine vinegar
2 cups chicken or seafood broth
1sprig fresh thyme
1 sprig fresh oregano
1 small bay leaf
1/2 teaspoon dried crushed red pepper
Pinch of ground allspice
Pinch of ground cinnamon

1. Bring a lobster pot 1/2 full of water to a boil. Add salt and seaweed, if you have it. Boil the lobsters for 8 minutes. Drain and run under cold water to stop the cooking process. The best video demonstration for cleaning lobsters that I've seen is here.

2. Heat oil in heavy large pot over medium-high heat. Add onions, celery and garlic. Sauté until soft and translucent, about 5 minutes. Add crushed red pepper and cook for 1 minute. Add crushed tomatoes and diced tomatoes with their juices; simmer 10 minutes. Add red wine, red wine vinegar, thyme, oregano, bay leaf, allspice, cinnamon and seafood broth. Simmer 30 minutes. Season to taste with salt, pepper and lemon juice. To give the base more body, puree half of it in a food mill.

3. Heat a medium skillet over medium flame. Melt butter. Add leeks and cook stirring occasionally until leeks are soft. Season with salt and pepper.

4. Before serving, warm lobster in leek butter. Serve with grilled bread or pasta.

My New Favorite Book

The flavor bible
Twelve years ago, Karen Page and her husband Andrew Dornenburg published Culinary Artistry. They interviewed hundreds of chefs around the country to learn more about what makes cooking an artistic endeavor. The real value of this book was the middle section that had a listing of “flavor marriages.” In encyclopedic format, they listed ingredients, such as chicken, mushrooms or artichokes, with a list of ingredients and flavors that paired well. The list was by no means exhaustive, but it was a great starting point. I began to make notes in the margins of flavor pairings I thought worked as well but were not on their list. This year, they finished the work that I wanted to… and they published the Flavor Bible. This isn’t so much a cookbook as it is a reference book to stir creativity.

One of the biggest challenges of searching for recipes on-line is that you need to know what you’re looking for. If, let’s say, you want to cook chicken, you will get thousands of recipes in a search results window – a near impossible challenge to sort through all the options. With this book, you can browse the listings for chicken, and see that it pairs well with coconut, galangal and lime, or with garlic, pancetta and sage. From here, you can have a much more productive web search of recipes. Or, if you’re like me, you’ll just make something up with the various ingredients that I now feel confident match each other.

CookThink has tried to capture this sort of brainstorming in a web-based, recipe search engine. But if you still prefer the tangible feel of a book, I highly recommend The Flavor Bible.

My Favorite Client

I met Gordon about 10 years ago when he was a guest at an Interactive event I led. The dinner had been a party in honor of his birthday. The hostess had alerted me that Gordon was in a wheelchair. Though he would not be able to participate in the Interactive cooking, she knew he would appreciate the demonstration of how the meal was prepared.

Seared Sesame Crusted Tuna Sashimi with Pickled Ginger and Asparagus Relish

Striped Bass with Sauteed Pea Tendrils in a Green Curry-Coconut Broth
with Jasmine Rice Cakes


Jasmine Tea Crème Brulee.

He recalls that night fondly, “I've always loved tuna sashimi and the jasmine rice cakes were wonderful. Mom and I made them a few times after your training and they were always a treat.”
As it turns out, that first party was the only time Gordon ever tasted my food. Nonetheless, he loves to entertain! Over the years, Gordon regularly emails me with “an unusual request” for a distinctive cuisine event: An ice-cream party for his colleagues at work, a going away party for dear friends from his church, a pool party for 75 of his closest friends.

Gordon has been in a wheelchair since he was 8 years old, a result of Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy. He is now close to forty-five. A tracheotomy tube in his throat assists him in breathing, and though he used to be able to swallow, the disease has taken that away from him, too. Gordon speaks slowly and quietly, but is always charming. It’s worth waiting to hear him. With limited mobility he can type and works for a networking company. He controls his wheelchair with a joy-stick.

The going away party at his church was one of the first times he socialized when he could no longer swallow. “I was so worried how people would react if I didn't eat, and was scared that I would lose such an important part of socializing. You prepared a wonderful meal at church, and between your understanding as well as that of my friends, I realized it would be OK. Phew.”

The disability does not prevent him from relishing the hospitality that food creates. “You know, probably better than I, that food is a sensual experience, and such an important factor in building relationships. From sharing food off each others plates to cooking for someone, food is so integral to friendships. I know that is one of the many things that attract me to you and your gifts. You prepare, present, enjoy and respect food in a way I wish I could.”

After each event, I receive a lovely thank you note. He recalls the wonderful aromas, the lovely presentations, and the sounds of “oohs and aahs” as his guests enjoy each morsel. Invariably, he will have a favorite dish. In one note, after many praises, he referred to his one regret of the evening, “My only disappointment is that three people did not show up. Alas, you cannot dictate good manners.”

On a crisp fall day, the air lingering with warmth of the summer, Gordon planned for a walk in the Wellesley Horticultural Garden with his friend Patricia. He wanted to surprise her with a picnic in the rose garden. Though Gordon would not eat or drink at the picnic, we planned the menu, with corresponding wines for each course. I arranged for linens, a table and chair, and china. Gordon requested two long stem roses in a simple vase.

As they walked casually by the garden, Patricia could see the table and commented on how romantic it looked and wondered who would be dining there. As they approached, I appeared from the hedges with champagne and hors d’œuvres. They sat down to a three-course lunch, chatting leisurely and laughing often. At the end of the lunch, they walked away, Patricia with roses in hand. They thanked me for the wonderful afternoon, and presented me with one of the roses.

_____________________________
If you would like more information about muscular dystrophy or wish to donate for research, Gordon suggests contacting the Muscular Dystrophy Association.

Duck, Part II


In order to get the duck legs for my experiments with Alinea’s book, I had to buy a whole duck. For the breasts, I decided to take an east meets west angle. The “east” came from a 5-spice rub on the breast and hoisin and sake in the sauce. The “west” incarnated itself in a timbale of broccoli raab, chanterelles and rice. The sauce nodded to France with a swirl of butter at the end.

4 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.

Duck, Part 1


Carol from French Laundry at Home cooked her way through the French Laundry Cookbook. Having cooked many recipes from that book, and derived so much inspiration, I was wholey impressed with Carol’s effort. When she finished French Laundry, she began to tackle Alinea. Without any thought, I bought Alinea’s cookbook as well. It arrived last week.

Thumbing through it, I realized it was more a coffee table tome than a book to derive inspiration, much less cook from. The organization of the book, the pictures and the wording or recipe names make it a difficult to figure what the recipes are all about. Carol, I bow to you in admiration. Nonetheless, I decided to try something from it.

First challenge: finding a recipe that didn’t require specialty ingredients or equipment. I opted for Venison Encased in Savory Granola. And then I changed everything… I made duck confit instead of the venison. Instead of making the granola, I served the fried components separately. And I pureed macomber turnips instead of celeriac. But I did make the dried-cherry port sauce. Other than that, it was exactly the same.

The puffed wild rice was a fun novelity, and offered a good textural contrast. Flavor-wise, I don't think it contributed to the dish. Perhaps if I had made the granola as Achatz recommended it would have benefited from the potato shreds and onion rings.

Duck Confit
Duck legs
1 tsp. each cumin, coriander, cinnamon
3/4 tsp. each allspice, dried thyme
¼ tsp. cloves
½ tsp. each cardamom ginger nutmeg
lots of garlic
half a lots of shallots
salt and pepper
duck fat

1. Combine spices.
2. Season duck generously with salt, pepper and spice mix on the flesh side.
3. Press in garlic and shallots.
4. Let sit for 24 hours.
5. Cook duck legs in 250 oven covered in duck fat for 2-3 hours, or until meat is very tender.
6. Store in fat.

Deep Frying
Onion Rings
1 onion, thinly sliced on a mandolin
1 tbs. corn starch
Wild Rice
Potato Shreds, soaked in water to remove starch
Oil for deep frying

1. Heat oil to 450. Add wild rice. It should puff instantly. After 30 seconds, remove with a slotted spoon. Drain on a papper towel and season with salt.
2. Turn oil down to 375. Toss onion slices in corn starch. Fry until crispy, about 5 minutes. Drain on a paper towel and season with salt
3. Fry potato shreds until lightly golden. Drain on paper towels and season with salt.

Macomber Turnips
2 turnips
¼ cup cream
Salt, pepper and lemon juice, to taste

1. Peel and cubed turnips. Put in a pot of cold water. Season with salt.
2. Bring water to a boil and reduce heat to a simmer. Cook until turnips are tender, about 20 minutes. Drain.
3. Puree turnips with cream. Season with salt pepper and lemon juice.

Port Sauce
1 small shallot diced
1 cup port wine
1 cup chicken or duck stock
Butter
Salt, pepper and lemon juice to taste.

In a small sauce pan, melt 1 tablespoon of butter. Add shallots, and cook for 1-2 minutes or until soft. Add wine and dried cherries, and let it reduce to about 1/4 cup. Add chicken broth and bring to a boil and reduce by ½. Turn heat the heat off, and whisk in butter, 2 tbs. at a time – for a total of 1/4 -1/2 # depending on your taste. Adjust seasoning with salt, pepper and a small squeeze of lemon juice.

Thanks to David for taking pictures. He blogs about editing food photos here.

The Miracle of Latkes

Latkes-and-apple-sauce3
The original story of Channukah (or Hanuka, Chanuka, or Hanukkah) recounts the rededication of the second temple of Israel. During the first century C.E., the Holy Temple of Jerusalem was under Greek rule, and the Jews could not enter and pray in this sacred and holy place. Miraculously, in 148 C.E. the Jews defeated the Greeks and reclaimed their temple. It had been desecrated and needed to be rebuilt and cleaned up. The rededication of the temple lasted eight days, and included burnt offerings. This celebration became the annual holiday of Hanukah (the spelling my computer spell-check prefers).

Centuries later, the story is retold in the Talmud, and is embellished with the miracle of oil: When the Jews were cleaning up the temple, they need to oil to light the “Eternal Light.” They found an oil flask that seemed to contain only enough to last for 1 day, but instead lasted for eight. It is through this story that foods cooked in oil become the central theme of the holiday.

To me, the real theme of the holiday is potato pancakes (latkes in Jewish), a further stretch of imagination from the original story – since the potatoes are cooked in a only a modest amount. The shredded potatoes are mixed with onion and perhaps a little flour and egg for binding, and are served with either sour cream or apple sauce.

Modern culinarians have adapted the original recipe to include zucchini, parsnips or sweet potatoes. My preferred recipe is a blend of regular and sweet potatoes. I make homemade pink applesauce – the pink coming from the skin of red apples.

Sweet Potato Latkes

1sweet potato

2 medium new potatoes Idaho potatoes

2 onions

2 tbs. flour

1 egg

1 tsp. baking powder

¼ cup

plain oil

salt and pepper to taste

1. Peel potatoes and onions. Grate using the largest whole of a cheese grate or food processor. Pour into a colander and squeeze out the liquid.

2. Mix potatoes with flour, egg, salt, pepper and baking powder.

3. Heat a large skillet over medium high flame and add about 2 tbs. oil. Spoon about 2 tbs. of batter per latke – about 4 latkes per batch. Cook for about 5 minutes or until brown, flip and cook on other side. Repeat until all the batter is used

4. Serve with apple sauce or sour cream or both.

5. Latkes can be pre-made and recrisped in a 450F oven just before serving.

Pink Apple Sauce

3 empire apples, cored with the skin on

1/4 cup sugar

1/2 cup water

a few drops of lemon juice

1. Put apples, sugar and water in a sauce pot. Cook over medium heat, stirring until the sugar dissolves. Continue cooking over medium-low heat, covered, until apples turn mushy.

2. Remove from heat. Press sauce through a food mill to extract the peels from the sauce. Add a few drops of lemon juice.

Smoked Salmon Celeriac Cigars

Like most vegetables, there are many cultivars of celery. Some are grown for the stalks and some for the root. The root, called celeriac, has a mild celery flavor with a hint of turnip. When I planted celery this spring, I had visions of utilizing the stalks through the summer and then enjoying the root in the fall. When I dug up a plant a few weeks ago, I discovered I planted the wrong variety.

Nonetheless, celeriac is a prominent feature on my winter menus: pureed with a little cream and lemon juice, poached in cream and tossed with pasta or raw in a remoulade. The globes should be firm. With their knobby, funky shape they’re easier to peel using a paring knife rather than a peeler. If you cut them and discover a hollow, stringy center, you should it cut out and discard.

Smoked Salmon – Celeriac Cigars
4 oz. smoked salmon slices
1 small celeriac knob
spring roll wrappers
salt and pepper to taste
oil for frying

1. Peel celeriac, and cut into ¼” x 1/4” x 1” pieces

2. Put in a pot of cold water, salted water. Bring water to a boil over high heat. Let cook for one minute more, or until celeriac is tender. Drain.
3. Cut salmon slices into 3 pieces. wrap each piece around a slice of celeriac. Wrap each salmon/celeriac in a spring roll wrapper.

4. Heat oil over medium-high heat. Fry cigars until golden brown on all sides.

5. Drain on a paper towel. Serve with green goddess dressing.

Reduce, Reuse, Recycle: Black Bean Dip

It was only in the past few months, as I’ve been reading about sustainability and participating in the Cambridge Recycling Committee, that I finally understood the dictum, “Reduce, Reuse, Recycle.” You can see it on grocery bags at Whole Foods, or any sort of green initiative. Reuse and recycle are obvious – for example, the plastic water bottle you purchased – reuse it by refilling it with filtered water, instead of purchasing a new bottle, and when you are done with it, recycle it. People often justify wasteful behavior by explaining that they will recycle. “Yes, I took more paper napkins than I need, but I will recycle them, so it’s okay.” Reduce was a harder concept for me to grasp. Reduce means only taking as many paper napkins as you need. Sure, it’s great that you’ll recycle, but we must also consider the energy expended and the chemicals used to create the napkins – the tree that was cut down, the plant that processed the paper and packaged it, the truck that shipped the napkin to the supermarket, etc.

When it comes to food and entertaining, the mantra would be “Reduce, Reuse, Recycle, Compost.” With cooking, I find it much more challenging to reduce. In terms of shopping, the stores often dictate the quantities I purchase: I must buy a 1 cup container of sour cream, even though I will only use 2 tablespoons. I’ll admit it’s getting better: I can now buy chicken broth in one cup packages instead of one quart. Most grains are sold in bulk bins. Even celery is sold by the stalk. Most challenging is gauging what quantity to prepare for dinner parties, especially buffets.

So it happened when Dina and I hosted Mole cannoli – a feast of two of our favorite foods. The final guest count was a moving target – between the quest for finding a babysitter or the new boyfriend we didn’t realize would be coming. And we wanted a nice variety of moles, salads and garnishes. Needless to say, we did not do a very good job of reducing – there were ample leftovers. The best I could do was reuse and recycle. We ate leftovers for a few days, and the excess of black beans and mole sauces went into the freezer.

Last week, inspired by Lydia’s black bean dip post, I pulled the black beans out of the freezer. I intended to make the dip for a friend’s party, but as I set out to make the recipe, I realized I didn’t have most of the ingredients on hand. But! I did have ½ cup of leftover green mole from that same evening that generated the black beans. I pureed the two together and, Voila! Black Bean dip. (P.S. The sour cream on top was leftover from another dinner the previous week)

Where the Magic Happens

I rarely complain about the size of my kitchen. And it’s tiny at 9 feet long by 7 ½ feet wide — and that’s the area according to the ceiling. When you consider a few appliances, cabinets and a sink, there’s barely enough room for me in there. I joke that my refrigerator has a self-regulating mechanism that prevents me from over-eating and becoming too big. If I gain too much weight, it’s a logistical impossibility to open the refrigerator to eat more food. And yet, when friends visit, they are always surprised by the coziness of the space. More curious to them, when I talk about renovating my house (a pipe-dream in its own right), I talk about adding a fireplace or a foyer, but never do I suggest that I want a bigger kitchen. Would it be nice? Yes! Are there other places I’d rather spend my money? Most definitely! So until I become independently wealthy, I’ll make do.

Mark Bittman’s
Manhattan kitchen is even smaller – 7 feet by 6 feet. Yet he manages to test all the recipes for his cookbooks and newspaper articles. In today’s New York Times, he writes that most chefs, food writers and cooks that learned their skill pre-world war II agree that size does not matter. Fancy equipment does not make a better cook; skill, practice and taste do.

Working in restaurants, I learned to contain my work to the area that’s just as big as my cutting board, plus about a 6 inches perimeter. Other cooks would encroach on my space from either side. I learned to work efficiently and neatly. Cooking at home, I’ve become a bit sloppy, but I can only go so far because my kitchen is still small.

My saving grace is the mini speed-rack I had custom built. The shelves hold 9 half-sheet pans. It’s a standard counter height with a wood block on top to match the size and shape of the other counters. I use the sheet-pans for cooking and as shelves. When things come out of the oven they slide right onto the speed rack until they’re cool. I can also store prep on the shelves until ready to be used. It’s an incredibly efficient space-saving piece of furniture/equipment.