Entries Tagged as 'cooking'

Coping with Tomato Overload

September. This is a special time of year, just right for the Queen of the Garden, the tomato.

So enraptured have we become over this cousin to deadly nightshade that we have cultivated no fewer than 2,700 varieties of tomato, in a rainbow of colors and a seemingly endless assortment of sizes and shapes. Volumes of history have been written about it, Louis Armstrong sang about mispronouncing it, and everyone seems to know that people used to think it was poisonous (some actually are, and the leaves and stalks of most are toxic).

The tomato has been prized for its versatility, cherished for its supposed aphrodisiac qualities, and utilized as a projectile in Vaudeville. Those aerodynamic qualities are still exploited in Buol, Spain, where the last Wednesday in August becomes an orgy of tomato wallowing, ostensibly in honor of the town’s patron saint, San Luis Bertran. Since the fight is usually a “boys vs. girls” affair, it rapidly becomes something of a wet T-shirt contest.

In this country we have come to be a bit more respectful of the tomato, but we do have our moments of degradation. Chief among these is the curious American obsession with eating out of season. This has resulted in those flavorless, mealy pink baseballs that are shipped green from Mexico, force-ripened with ethylene gas in train cars en route to Chicago, then passed off as tomatoes at your local grocery store in February. The tomato is one of those vegetables that, like asparagus, are best eaten during a particular season, and the season is upon us.

Read the whole story at Huffington Post.

Walnut Season Arrives (And a recipe for Shiitake and Wild Black Walnut “Tartare”)

When I was growing up in central Ohio, school began right after Labor Day.  This was advantageous compared to today’s August starts not just because of the longer summer break, but because we would have scads of black walnuts to hurl at each other as we walked to school that first morning.

They littered the ground all along Stanwood, Denver, and Remington streets on my route to Maryland Elementary School.  It was customary to announce your approach behind fellow students by pelting them with the large green orbs.  The nuts seemed to have been created especially to be launched by nine-year-old boys.  Two inches across, perfectly round, and with a slightly rough texture that we imagined made it possible to throw curveballs with them.  The ripest ones were best because if they could be made to explode on impact they left an indelible stain and a smell that followed the target around school all day. I have been both victim and perpetrator numerous times.

Today I use the sweetmeats for far more peaceful purposes such as cakes, breads and salads, though when no one is looking I occasionally test my aim out on the flood plain behind my house.  Still haven’t mastered that curveball. [Read more →]

Eggs Got You Scared? Here’s the Scoop

What annoys me about the coverage of the current egg recall is that it almost always says, “traced to an Iowa farm.” But, proud as I am of my home state, it’s not misguided regionalism that makes me take offense at this statement. It’s the use of the word “farm.”

Wright County Egg and the rest of serial offender Austin “Jack” DeCoster’s operations are not farms, but factories. They’re the textbook example of everything that’s unhealthy and unsustainable about the industrial model that has hijacked American agriculture.

via Nourish Network Eggs Got You Scared? Here’s the Scoop.

Basil Abundance

Summer in Iowa always brings the same delightful dilemma – what to do with all that basil.

Few herbs are as surrounded by mythology and folklore as basil. Its origins are debated, but most seem to think it came from India where besides its innumerable culinary uses, a devout Hindu has a leaf of basil placed on his breast when he dies, as a passport to paradise. It is famous in Christian history as well as the herb Salome used to cover the smell of decay from John the Baptists head. In Haitian Voodoo practice the herb is a powerful protector, and a Romanian man is engaged when he accepts a sprig of basil from a woman.

All this trivia is of little use though, when faced with bushels of the stuff that we all pull out of our gardens the afternoon before we expect the first heavy frost of autumn. Get a jump on that by beginning your “puttin' up” now. You can blanch and freeze it all with a quick dip in boiling, salted water followed by an instantaneous plunge into ice water – then drain, pat dry and freeze in Ziplocs, but that only postpones the inevitable pesto, and pesto is best with fresh leaves. A voluptuous pesto is of course a good way to reduce the volume quickly and have something everyone loves to show for your efforts.

Read the rest at Huffington Post.

Table Wine: See what real hard cider is all about

A while ago, I regaled you with the true story of John Chapman, a.k.a. Johnny Appleseed, and his actual motives as more of a land speculator and hard cider maker than the happy-go-lucky wandering environmentalist we watched in filmstrips and Disney-animated cartoons in elementary school. He was a success because for many years in pre- and post-colonial times, the drink of choice in the U.S. was hard cider (more so than beer, wine or whiskey).

Its popularity in the U.S. waned, especially after the increase in German immigration, bringing with them their expertise in brewing beer from the abundant grains of the Great Plains. In northern Spain, however, the passion for Sidra, as the Spanish call hard cider, never went out of style. This despite the inexplicable decades-long banning of its production by Generalisimo Francisco Franco after the Spanish Civil War. It was especially true in the north, in the Basque and Galician regions, where the best Sidra is still made today.

The best Sidra is made from one ingredient: Apples. Today many large-scale producers add things such as residual sugar, artificial carbonation, grape juice or preservatives. The finest is still nothing more than fermented apple juice, served fresh and slightly chilled.

via See what real hard cider is all about | press-citizen.com | Iowa City Press Citizen.

Thrill o’the Grill: Wrap It Up!

If you are looking for an easy way to impress your guests at you backyard grill, here’s a simple trick that’s sure to make your favorite salmon fans drool: wrap it in banana leaves.

A classic method in tropical climes for centuries, this method is still relatively unknown in the States, but we are familiar with some methods that operate on the same principle, which uses a grill’s high heat on an enveloped piece of meat, fish or poultry to steam it in its own juices.  Many use foil, or multiple sheets of wet newspaper, or cook sweet corn while it’s still in the husk (popular here in Iowa).

The advantage of the banana leaves is that you get the best of both worlds: the healthy, juicy speed of steam with the rich aroma and flavor of smoke from the grill.  Plus there’s no sticking to the grill, despite the lack of added fat.

Banana leaves are easy to find in just about any Asian grocery, and many Mexican bodegas carry them as well.  They usually come frozen, but they thaw very quickly just sitting on your counter, or overnight in the refrigerator, and I have re-frozen leftovers two or three times with no noticeable loss of quality. [Read more →]

Paella: From Tradition to Simplicity

Perhaps no dish conjures up more images of Spain than paella. Steeped in history and distinctive spices, to prepare this dish is to summon the soul of Spain and the spirit of her people.

For the uninitiated, paella (pronounced “pie-AY-ya”) is kind of a rice casserole, traditionally prepared in a special kind of pan (from which it takes its name) over an open fire. And it’s prepared by men.

Food carries a very strong cultural imperative in Spain, and customs are not swept away merely for the sake of political correctness. Throughout Spain, there are exclusive all-male clubs dedicated entirely to cooking and to the pleasures of the table.

Paella has at least 400 years of history, and its origins are in the province of Valencia, on the southeast coast. There, they grow the medium-grain Valencia rice that absorbs flavors wonderfully and is the key to the dish. The first paellas were made by peasants, using their native rice and whatever was available–often snails, onions, and that curious import from the New World, the tomato. [Read more →]

The Secret of True ‘Cue || Nourish Network

No type of cooking inspires as much passion, competition, obsession, and plain old American hometown pride as barbecue. There are local, regional, and national ‘cue contests that bring together hundreds of pathologically devoted cooks and thousands of BBQ-scarfing chowhounds to debate about which wood to use and to lie about their recipes.

Barbecue may, in fact, be the original way to cook. Historians believe man’s ancestors first ate cooked meat by scavenging in the aftermath of forest fires. More recently, Spanish conquistadors “exploring” tropical islands were fascinated by the aromas coming from the small green-wood grills New World natives called barbacoa. From these origins came the huge variety of barbecue that exists around the world. No other country, though, pursues the ‘cue with such passionate abandon as the United States.

via The Secret of True ‘Cue | Nourish Network.

Blue Plate Special: Chilled Sorrel Soup

Among the foods that gardeners and gastronomes fawn over, yet others rarely even know, stands sorrel.  An early spring green with brash lemony flavor that comes from an abundance of oxalic acid, it is a powerful addition to soups and sauces, and is tasty in salads when picked young.

Sorrel is classified in the genus Rumex, and its origins lie somewhere in what is now Russia, where the Ural Mountains divide Asia from Europe.  It was well known in Roman times, though not cultivated since it was plentiful in the wild.  Culinary historians find it falling in and out of favor throughout Europe in the Middle Ages, and it seemed to do a curious dance over the English Channel as at times the French preferred it, then the English more so, then back again.  It was popular in the court of King Henry VIII, then all but eradicated from the British Isles by the late 1800s when it had danced over to the US.

Still by the middle of the 20th century and even today most of the time, if you want sorrel in America you have to grow it yourself.  Thankfully, very few things are easier to cultivate.  It loves this bizarre spring we’ve had, with cool sunny day alternating with lots of rain.  And it’s a perennial, so once you have it, it’s there to stay.  It has no pest problems since that oxalic acid is a great natural defense, and the yield is quite high because you can keep clipping it all spring, and harvest again in the fall.  A single sorrel planting can yield well for eight or ten years before needing to be replanted.

Plant sorrel seed in early spring in rich composted soil about a half-inch deep and six inches apart.  When the plants are seven or eight inches high, thin them to 12 inches apart, and make sure they stay well watered.  As they grow, cut the leaves for use and wait for what seems like just a minute before the new leaves jump back up.  Later in the summer, you’ll see the buds of rust-red flowers begin to appear.  Pinch these off unless you want more seed, else you’ll see little yield in the fall.

After three or four years, dig up the plants and split them at the root.  Give a few to your friends and plant the rest in another sunny, fertile part of the garden for a few more years.  It’s that easy.

In the kitchen, sorrel matches its ease of cultivation with simple versatility.  The young leaves add a potent zing to baby green salads.  As they get older, they leaves are popular in fish dishes, classically shad or pike.  Anything that likes lemon will like sorrel, so veal, chicken and pork dishes can benefit from it as well.  Perhaps the most popular use is this eye-opening chilled sorrel soup, perfect for your first lunch on the patio:

Chilled Sorrel Soup

2 cups (packed) sorrel leaves, stemmed
2 shallots, peeled
2 cups cold chicken stock (vegetable may be substituted)
8 ounces crème fraîche (sour cream can substitute)
1/3 cup heavy cream
Salt and white pepper to taste
Fresh tarragon or mint (for garnish)

In a blender or food processor, chop the sorrel and shallot to a fine puree.  Gradually add the stock and continue to blend, stopping occasionally to scrape down the sides of the bowl, until all the stock is mixed in.

Add the crème fraîche and the cream and pulse lightly until just incorporated.  Season to taste with salt and pepper, then chill one hour to overnight.  Serve very cold garnished with tarragon or mint.  If desired you could also add more crème fraîche, some croutons, even an ice cube.

The Humble Root | Nourish Network

root-veggies-postWhen researching the history and lore of a particular food, something I do with perhaps more frequency than the average person, one of my favorite resources to turn to is the late Waverly Root, an American journalist assigned to Paris for most of his career, and his indispensable Food: An Authoritative Visual History and Dictionary of the Foods of the World. And, honestly, how could I not turn to Root when writing about three often overlooked winter vegetables: turnips, parsnips and rutabagas? Despite the fact that in our modern day they play second fiddle to carrots, these three are wonderful, hearty winter fare, delicious in a mash with other root vegetables, in soups and stews, or roasted in the oven until crisp and savory. They are also well appreciated in the lean months because of their long shelf life and low cost.

via The Humble Root | Nourish Network.