I have a little problem. I'm addicted to cookbooks, food writing, recipe collecting, and cooking. I have a lot of recipes waiting for me to try them, and ideas from articles, tv, and restaurants often lead to new dishes. I started losing track of what I've done. So now I'm taking photos and writing about what I've prepared—unless it's terrible in which case I forget it ever happened.
My latest inspiration-expedition into my recipe files turned up this red lentil dal from the February 2002 issue of Living. It was from an article about healthy peas and lentils. The pea bisque with shrimp and tarragon sounded great too, but the lentils worked well as starter or snack before a late dinner of Andhra scrambled eggs. I use red lentils pretty frequently for soup, and I find that they cook much faster than other lentils. Their texture is softer, and I would say they nearly melt in your mouth. When they begin to break apart a little while cooking and thicken the broth, I get very happy.
The pretty, red lentils were rinsed and then placed in a pot with water, broth, and turmeric and left to cook for about 20 minutes. In a small skillet, butter was melted and then garlic, cumin seeds, and crushed red pepper were added. Once fragrant, that was poured into the lentils. Diced tomatoes, mint, and salt were added as well. This could be served piping hot or at room temperature. Pita chips were suggested for dipping, but we used some store-bought, whole wheat naan instead.
The cumin and mint added nice flavor, and the heat from the crushed red pepper can be adjusted to your taste. It makes a delicious and filling snack. We went diving right into it only to realize that a couple of bites with naan were enough to tide us over until mealtime. Fortunately, the leftovers re-heated nicely, and it was delicious all over again a couple of days later.
I read Mangoes and Curry Leaves when I received it a few years ago, and it’s a beautiful, informative, well-crafted book. I also have Alford and Duguid’s equally gorgeous, newer book, Beyond the Great Wall, and it’s sitting in my to-read stack. Their books are part travel memoirs, but they are mostly in-depth looks at completely authentic regional foods. Despite having enjoyed reading Mangoes and Curry Leaves, I hadn’t cooked anything from it simply because I’m a big, big chicken. I feared failing horribly at my attempts to re-create what looks so incredible in the photos, and sub-continent cuisine is not my forte. I do wish to learn though, and there’s only one way to do that. So, what we have here today is the first item I cautiously attempted, and Kurt even more cautiously tasted. He knows when there’s a good chance we’ll have a failure on our hands, and he was rightly concerned when I announced I was going to make Andhra scrambled eggs.
The introduction to this recipe explains that these eggs are like ones author Jeffrey Alford had at a tea shop in rural Andhra Pradesh which is a day’s drive north of Chennai (Madras). To make the eggs, they were whisked in a bowl with some salt while sesame oil was heated in a large skillet. Minced garlic and ginger, chopped shallots and chiles, and turmeric were added. The chiles specified here were cayenne which I can never find in local grocery stores, although I did receive a few in a CSA pick-up last summer. I used serranos instead. Those ingredients were stir-fried in the sesame oil for a couple of minutes before chopped tomato was added. After another couple of minutes the eggs were added and stirred about to mix everything together. Once just barely set, the eggs were transferred to plates and topped with chopped cilantro leaves.
I was feeling a little cocky since this was just a simple egg dish, so I went ahead and made the hot chile oil paste from the front of the book as well. This involved chopping ginger, garlic, and dried red chiles in a food processor and then placing that in a heat-proof bowl. Minced scallions were added to that bowl. Then, vegetable oil was heated in a skillet until almost smoking, it was poured over the mixture in the bowl, and it was allowed to cool. I poured this cooled mixture into a jar with an air-tight lid, and it will last in the refrigerator for up to one month. I’m looking forward to using it as a condiment on all kinds of things like grilled chicken or fish, maybe a dollop on some soup, and maybe even use some on plain scrambled eggs. For the Andhra scrambled eggs, it was an added punch to an already very flavorful dish, but we used a little anyway.
And, the result? Satisfactory all around. Kurt was pleasantly surprised with the level of success achieved here and quite enjoyed the dish. I may have worked up enough confidence to attempt some other things. I’ll have to remember to plan ahead and allow plenty of time for tracking down some ingredients like curry leaves, but I’m looking forward to learning more and experiencing more of the food described in the book.
Madhur Jaffrey's World Vegetarian is so great for browsing. When I have a particular vegetable to use, I can always find several possible dishes in it that each have different cultural influences. Last week I was a lucky winner of the Foodie Blogroll bi-weekly giveaway, and I was offered a product from FromTheFarm.com. I chose the hen of the woods, or maitake, mushrooms which were over-nighted in a cooler. I did feel some carbon guilt about receiving that package from Florida, but considering that a lot of my vegetables get trucked in from California, I tried not to dwell on it for too long (and a trip to the farmers’ market the next day made me feel better).
I wanted to use the hen of the woods mushrooms in a vegetarian dish, and Jaffrey’s Israeli couscous sounded perfect. I make several variations of pasta with sauteed vegetables, but for this dish, I followed along with the instructions to try a different approach. Something I make pretty regularly for weeknight meals is broccoli with penne. For that, I blanch broccoli and then saute it with sliced garlic, a lot of extra virgin olive oil, and black pepper. When the penne is added to that, it receives some butter, and it’s served with a snowy cap of shredded parmigiano reggiano. Delicious, yes, but there’s lots of oil and butter. For this couscous dish, Jaffrey suggested sauteing garlic and shallot in some olive oil and then adding the mushrooms and then the chopped asparagus. This cooked briefly before a half cup of stock and a quarter cup of vermouth were added. The saute pan was covered, and it was left for a couple of minutes. Then, almost-fully-cooked couscous was added, it was stirred to combine, and then parmigiano reggiano and parsley were incorporated.
The result was a lighter dish in which the stock and vermouth were absorbed by the pasta pearls. The parts of this simple dish worked together exactly correctly. The vegetables were left crisp tender and fresh tasting, and the flavor of the maitakes was superb. The amount of vermouth used was enough to add another layer of flavor but not enough to leave it boozy. The vermouth and stock together was just the right amount of liquid for the couscous to absorb without making the dish like soup. I added a bit more garlic than what was listed, I usually do that, and combined with the shallot, it was fantastic. This would work nicely with orzo and other vegetable combinations too. Now I have one more delicious, and lighter, way of preparing pasta and vegetables.
I had some leftover buttermilk and wanted to use it for a quick, snack cake. I flipped through Pure Dessert by Alice Medrich and found a simple cake with ingredients that I had on hand. This sesame seed cake comes from the Grain, nuts, and seeds chapter. In the introduction, Medrich explains that the strategic use grains and seeds can add flavor, texture, and tenderness. The simplicity of her recipes allows subtler flavors to come forward, get noticed, and be appreciated.
Luckily enough, I had some black sesame seeds in my refrigerator. I actually store most seeds, nuts, and grains in my refrigerator to keep them fresh longer. White sesame seeds would work as well; they just wouldn’t be as visible in the cake. To add to the sesame flavor, some toasted sesame oil was also used in the batter. The flour and other dry ingredients were sifted together three times, and this resulted in a very fine cake texture. Butter and sugar were mixed, and then eggs, whisked with sesame oil and vanilla, were added. The sifted dry ingredients and buttermilk were added in intervals. Then, I really should have followed the instructions which stated that you should use parchment in the bottom of your cake pan. I skipped it, and the cake did stick a little. I managed to get it out of the pan still looking mostly presentable, and I let it cool before dusting it with confectioner’s sugar.
It’s a small cake that bakes in one eight-inch round pan, and that was just the right size to provide a nice snack or dessert for two of us for a few days. The sesame oil flavor wasn’t as evident as you might think. It just slightly boosted the flavor already supplied by the seeds, and the pretty seeds dispersed throughout provided tiny bits of crunch. The cake got better and better as it sat from the first day to the second and then the third. The tenderness and flavor really made it seem like it should have been much more complicated to make.
I received the book Viva Margarita as a gift a couple of years ago, and Kurt and I flipped through it again last week to pick a couple of interesting cocktails. We’ve done wine tastings and beer tastings, so why not a cocktail tasting? There are several great drink ideas in the book, all involving tequila, like the Noches Mexicanas with half and half and Frangelico, the Avocado Colada, and the Mango Pellegringo, and choosing two was difficult. Our bottle of tequila had just enough left in it for two options, so we mixed and judged.
The first cocktail we selected was the Feisty Jamaican Splash. This is a little like a tequila mojito. Mint leaves were muddled in each chilled glass with some sugar and lemon juice. Tequila was added, then ice, and it was topped with Jamaican ginger ale. I initially thought that I would taste this and wish it had been made with rum. I was wrong. The tequila, surprisingly, worked quite well with the lemon and the mint. The ginger ale sweetened it up and added some fizz, and the drink was well-rounded and delicious. I gave this one four and a half stars out of five, and Kurt gave it four.
The second contestant in battle cocktail was Cuatro Amigos Liquados, or a blended cocktail involving raspberries and lime, lemon, and orange juices. Those ingredients were placed in a blender along with honey, half and half, ice, and tequila. I thought for sure this one would be the clear winner. It sounded like a great combination. Unfortunately, it was a little thick in texture and crunchy from the raspberry seeds. This did make an excellent alcoholic smoothie, but Kurt and I both scored it at three stars.
Perhaps the Feisty Jamaican won it because it caught us off-guard. A good ginger ale with a strong ginger flavor played very well with the lemon, mint, and tequila. It wasn’t too strong or too sweet or too anything, and it’s a simple enough cocktail to enjoy with hors d’oeuvres. The Cuatro Amigos was nice in its own way, but seemed more filling and somehow less interesting. Timing and atmosphere could affect the success of these drinks. For instance, if I were sitting outside on a July afternoon, this blended one would probably win it hands down.
Having already planned the fried chicken night, my goal was to locate a light vegetable side to go with the leftovers the next night. Another piece of my goal was to use some winter roots one more time before the season is gone. Most people are doing their best to rush spring into place, but I wanted to hang on to winter for just a moment longer. In truth, winter is actually already gone here in Austin. It was 88 degrees last Friday, and it’s going to be about 80 each day this week. And, spring doesn’t really happen; it just flits by and waves as it ushers in the ferocious heat of summer. I’m not complaining, really, the summer heat doesn’t bother me too much, but I did want to pretend that winter wasn’t gone just yet.
Needing a light, wintry, vegetable dish led me to Taste Pure and Simple by Michel Nischan. This book is all about applying healthful cooking techniques to pristine ingredients to create dishes that are pure in flavor and not masked by excess seasoning or fat. Fruit and vegetable juices are reduced and made into sauces without added starches or butter, while the main ingredients’ true characteristics are allowed to shine. I’ve had this book for a few years, and the reason I haven’t cooked from it more is that I don’t own a juice extractor. Making this root vegetable gratin with sweet potato sauce depended on locating some sweet potato juice. I wondered if I could find a bottled vegetable juice that would be close or maybe even a squash juice. No such luck. I asked at Whole Foods, and the juice guy, who had never seen sweet potato juice, suggested I sweet talk the folks at the juice and smoothie counter into making some for me. Thank you again to the juice and smoothie counter ladies who so kindly played along and obliged my unique request. They had never juiced sweet potatoes but were willing to give it a try. Two large sweet potatoes produced a large plastic cup full of juice, and all the other ingredients I needed were very easy to find.
The gratin was built with layers of thinly sliced rutabaga, russet potato, sweet potato, and parsnip. The layers were stacked and repeated, and each layer was seasoned with salt and pepper. Minced onion was spread in the middle. This was covered and baked for 50 minutes. At that point, the gratin was removed from the oven, the parchment and foil covering was removed, the top was sprayed with oil, it was sprinkled with chopped parsley, chives, and sage, and it was returned to the oven for another 20 minutes. Meanwhile, the sweet potato juice was poured into a saucepan while leaving the collected starches at the bottom of the cup. It was reduced to one cup and then left to steep with sliced ginger, chopped Thai chiles, and lemon juice. I tasted this as it was stirred and strained the sauce once the ginger and chiles had imparted their flavors.
I wondered if the gratin with no cream or cheese or butter would taste of boringness and earth or if the root vegetables and onion would develop into something fantastic on their own. Develop they did. This was full of bright, vegetable flavor without any heaviness. There is plenty of moisture in the vegetables which prevented the gratin from being dry. Really tasting each vegetable layered upon one another was delightful. The sauce was sweet and spicy and rich but only in flavor. Really experiencing the simplicity of ingredients is a lovely thing, and it greatly reduces the guilt of eating fried food for two meals in a row.
Every now and then, I’ll notice a book on the shelf that I haven’t used for a long time. Last week, my Dean and Deluca Cookbook seemed to be giving me puppy dog eyes and wondering why I hadn’t opened it in so long. This was one of the very first cookbooks I acquired before a collection even began to form. I remember seeing David Rosengarten on the Today show promoting this book back in 1996, and I got the book shortly thereafter. I learned how to make risotto from this book. I clearly recall a very hot summer night when we were living in a tiny apartment, and I had decided to attempt risotto. Why I thought it would be a good idea to stand over a steaming pot of rice and broth while it was about 100 degrees outside I have no idea, but it turned out very well and I’ve made all sorts of risottos several times since then. There’s so much great information in this book, and the origins of the food presented span the globe. I sat down with it last week and flipped through the entire book again. I made a few mental notes of things I’ll try soon, but the first thing I had to make was spicy fried chicken.
This recipe was intended as a multi-culti, their wording, dish due to the chicken being marinated in buttermilk with garlic, ginger, lemon, and chiles. I chose to focus on a more southwestern kind of approach and left out the ginger. To speed up the initial steps, I bought chicken pieces instead of a whole chicken. I intended to buy some breasts and wings, but for some reason, Central Market only had wing drumettes. So, I marinated some breasts and the drumettes in the buttermilk mixture for about six hours in the refrigerator. I stirred and re-arranged the pieces twice during that time. Then, the chicken was removed from the marinade, tossed in seasoned flour, and left to rest while the oil heated to 350 degrees. Frying is a messy venture, so I recommend frying a lot of chicken while you’re at it. Leftovers re-heat nicely in the oven, and the more you have in the end the more the mess will seem worth it. It takes about 20 minutes total in the oil to cook chicken, and it came out golden and crispy.
I can’t even remember the last time I fried chicken, so this was a rare treat in our house. The crunch of the hot, freshly fried coating was almost as satisfying as the flavor. The meat was very tender and the lemon and garlic accented it nicely. The jalapeno flavor was more subtle, and we would have preferred it even spicier. We decided we should have left some pieces of jalapeno on the chicken before flouring it, so we’ll go that route next time. Although, there’s also a cornmeal-molasses fried chicken recipe in the book, and that may have to come first.
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My latest inspiration-expedition into my recipe files turned up this red lentil dal from the February 2002 issue of Living. It was from an article about healthy peas and lentils. The pea bisque with shrimp and tarragon sounded great too, but the lentils worked well as starter or snack before a late dinner of Andhra scrambled eggs. I use red lentils pretty frequently for soup, and I find that they cook much faster than other lentils. Their texture is softer, and I would say they nearly melt in your mouth. When they begin to break apart a little while cooking and thicken the broth, I get very happy.
The cumin and mint added nice flavor, and the heat from the crushed red pepper can be adjusted to your taste. It makes a delicious and filling snack. We went diving right into it only to realize that a couple of bites with naan were enough to tide us over until mealtime. Fortunately, the leftovers re-heated nicely, and it was delicious all over again a couple of days later.
when I received it a few years ago, and it’s a beautiful, informative, well-crafted book. I also have Alford and Duguid’s equally gorgeous, newer book, 
I was feeling a little cocky since this was just a simple egg dish, so I went ahead and made the hot chile oil paste from the front of the book as well. This involved chopping ginger, garlic, and dried red chiles in a food processor and then placing that in a heat-proof bowl. Minced scallions were added to that bowl. Then, vegetable oil was heated in a skillet until almost smoking, it was poured over the mixture in the bowl, and it was allowed to cool. I poured this cooled mixture into a jar with an air-tight lid, and it will last in the refrigerator for up to one month. I’m looking forward to using it as a condiment on all kinds of things like grilled chicken or fish, maybe a dollop on some soup, and maybe even use some on plain scrambled eggs. For the Andhra scrambled eggs, it was an added punch to an already very flavorful dish, but we used a little anyway.
I wanted to use the hen of the woods mushrooms in a vegetarian dish, and Jaffrey’s Israeli couscous sounded perfect. I make several variations of pasta with sauteed vegetables, but for this dish, I followed along with the instructions to try a different approach. Something I make pretty regularly for weeknight meals is broccoli with penne. For that, I blanch broccoli and then saute it with sliced garlic, a lot of extra virgin olive oil, and black pepper. When the penne is added to that, it receives some butter, and it’s served with a snowy cap of shredded parmigiano reggiano. Delicious, yes, but there’s lots of oil and butter. For this couscous dish, Jaffrey suggested sauteing garlic and shallot in some olive oil and then adding the mushrooms and then the chopped asparagus. This cooked briefly before a half cup of stock and a quarter cup of vermouth were added. The saute pan was covered, and it was left for a couple of minutes. Then, almost-fully-cooked couscous was added, it was stirred to combine, and then parmigiano reggiano and parsley were incorporated.
It’s a small cake that bakes in one eight-inch round pan, and that was just the right size to provide a nice snack or dessert for two of us for a few days. The sesame oil flavor wasn’t as evident as you might think. It just slightly boosted the flavor already supplied by the seeds, and the pretty seeds dispersed throughout provided tiny bits of crunch. The cake got better and better as it sat from the first day to the second and then the third. The tenderness and flavor really made it seem like it should have been much more complicated to make.
The second contestant in battle cocktail was Cuatro Amigos Liquados, or a blended cocktail involving raspberries and lime, lemon, and orange juices. Those ingredients were placed in a blender along with honey, half and half, ice, and tequila. I thought for sure this one would be the clear winner. It sounded like a great combination. Unfortunately, it was a little thick in texture and crunchy from the raspberry seeds. This did make an excellent alcoholic smoothie, but Kurt and I both scored it at three stars.
Perhaps the Feisty Jamaican won it because it caught us off-guard. A good ginger ale with a strong ginger flavor played very well with the lemon, mint, and tequila. It wasn’t too strong or too sweet or too anything, and it’s a simple enough cocktail to enjoy with hors d’oeuvres. The Cuatro Amigos was nice in its own way, but seemed more filling and somehow less interesting. Timing and atmosphere could affect the success of these drinks. For instance, if I were sitting outside on a July afternoon, this blended one would probably win it hands down.
The gratin was built with layers of thinly sliced rutabaga, russet potato, sweet potato, and parsnip. The layers were stacked and repeated, and each layer was seasoned with salt and pepper. Minced onion was spread in the middle. This was covered and baked for 50 minutes. At that point, the gratin was removed from the oven, the parchment and foil covering was removed, the top was sprayed with oil, it was sprinkled with chopped parsley, chives, and sage, and it was returned to the oven for another 20 minutes. Meanwhile, the sweet potato juice was poured into a saucepan while leaving the collected starches at the bottom of the cup. It was reduced to one cup and then left to steep with sliced ginger, chopped Thai chiles, and lemon juice. I tasted this as it was stirred and strained the sauce once the ginger and chiles had imparted their flavors.
I wondered if the gratin with no cream or cheese or butter would taste of boringness and earth or if the root vegetables and onion would develop into something fantastic on their own. Develop they did. This was full of bright, vegetable flavor without any heaviness. There is plenty of moisture in the vegetables which prevented the gratin from being dry. Really tasting each vegetable layered upon one another was delightful. The sauce was sweet and spicy and rich but only in flavor. Really experiencing the simplicity of ingredients is a lovely thing, and it greatly reduces the guilt of eating fried food for two meals in a row.
I can’t even remember the last time I fried chicken, so this was a rare treat in our house. The crunch of the hot, freshly fried coating was almost as satisfying as the flavor. The meat was very tender and the lemon and garlic accented it nicely. The jalapeno flavor was more subtle, and we would have preferred it even spicier. We decided we should have left some pieces of jalapeno on the chicken before flouring it, so we’ll go that route next time. Although, there’s also a cornmeal-molasses fried chicken recipe in the book, and that may have to come first.