Friday the 13th and the Vanishing Index

A few weeks ago, one of the readers of Kitchen Primer, Jerry, asked for an index.  It’s on the way Jerry!  Thursday I figured out how to label entries and insert a list on the side.  Well, I thought I did.  Between yesterday (after having revisited over 50 of the entries, tagging them and reposting) and today, that work seems to have vanished (hate when that happens).

SO…  a little blog sleuthing is in order (not to mention some repeat work) and hopefully by next weekend there will be an index (or part of one) for your blog reading pleasure.

Please pardon the absence this week of not only the index but also anything else useful. I will work behind the scenes at New Kitchen Primer and with any luck (tell me that this has absolutely nothing to do with today being Friday the 13th) next week you will have an index to revisit past stuff and we can again move forward with some kitchen basics.

I'm going to leave you hanging (had to tie this in with the photo somehow) and see you next week after a bit of mystery solving.

True Grit and Asparagus

 

Here we are in May and I was just looking into the archives. March of 2010 was the time asparagus made an appearance here last.  I may not have written about these delicious signs of spring since then, but I’ve been eating this favorite whenever it’s available and now is the time to seize the asparagus moment!

Once you review the Asparagus entry of last year, I want to add to your asparagus erudition.  In fact, last weekend I added to mine.  After purchasing a nice fresh bunch at the local farmer’s market (not perfect as you can see), I rushed home to photograph a method of storage for you.  When bringing home some nice fresh firm spears (look for firm closed tips), treat them like lovely flowers.  Cut off just a bit from the bottom of the stalks (you can do this in one fell swoop, it’s just to get a fresh cut), stand them in a heavy glass or jar with a bit of water and pop them in the fridge.  Retrieve them soon (the fresher the better), cook and enjoy!  Sounds simple, doesn’t it? Well, it is in theory and in reality is pretty simple.  The mistake I made with this bunch is that I didn’t wash the spears enough.  The cooked spears were gritty and dinner was a sad occasion.  Thank goodness it was just Sylvia and I… this could have been one of those embarrassing culinary moments (that said, I’m a firm believer in getting well practiced at embarrassment.  Being good at being embarrassed is on top of my personal ‘life skills’ list… but I digress).

Enough about me, let’s take it from the top:

Pick firm spears with tops that point up, are tight, and compact. You want the entire spear to have good vivid color (asparagus comes in a variety of colors- green, white and purple).  Make sure the spears are without spots and not wilted in any way.

Fat or thin is fine (what ever you choose); spears should be of roughly the same size for even cooking.

Wash well!!!!  True grit is out of place here (see embarrassing paragraph).  Swish them in a basin and change the water until it is clear and grit-free.  Be careful not to damage the tips.

Snap off the woody ends and cook.

Last March’s entry explained how to poach them.  That’s a very nice method.   But if you are ready to practice a little bit of true grit in the kitchen, turn on the broiler and find your mitt.

After washing, pat your grit-free spears dry and put them in a single layer on a sheet pan (your heaviest). Here you can lightly toss them with some olive oil, salt and pepper.

With your oven set to broil, place them under the broiler for just a couple of minutes.

Check your spears and shake the pan, cooking them just a little bit more.  Don’t over do it!  This will not take very much time (5 minutes max) so keep your mitt on and don’t wander away from the stove.  Done!  Slide them on to a plate and turn off the oven.  Very easy and very delicious.

No grit and true grit all at the same time! 

600 For Lunch and Cake in a Box

Maybe Royal Weddings are not your cup of tea, but my guess is that around about now, the Queen is saying,  “ I’d give my kingdom for a quiet cuppa”.  Being The Queen, however, means behaving yourself at all times, so it’s certain that she is only saying this to herself.  Sure, Elizabeth ll has help, but entertaining 600 guests for a Royal Wedding luncheon at The Palace must be work even for the most practiced hostess.

So, now that we’ve seen the dress and the first kiss, it’s time to imagine what the food is going to be like.  You can go on the official Royal Wedding site to see the Royal Lunch menu, and check out how the cake will be made and decorated.  If you stick with it, the pastry chef will explain the symbolism of the decorative details.

What they don’t delve into on the website is the tradition of the English Wedding cake.  Just like the Monarchy, an English Wedding Cake it is based on solid long-standing traditions.  Comprised mostly of dried fruit soaked in brandy and aged (ideally for at least 3 months- this makes it easier to slice), the cake serves as a culinary metaphor for the institution of Royalty itself.  Dense, fruity, preserved (in this case with brandy) and covered in nuts (encased in marzipan which is almond paste), crowned in grand and symbolic ornamentation (in this case rolled fondant -the baker’s answer to Playdough), this institution is intended to last forever. 

Since Roman times, nutmeats have been associated with fidelity and fertility. With this in mind, the top tier of the cake is set aside to celebrate either the first anniversary or first child of the happy couple. Portions of the main cake are shipped off to friends and loved ones who were unable to attend. Growing up in The States away from my relatives in the United Kingdom, I remember the occasional the arrival via post of a little box containing cake.  There was usually some remnant of decoration atop the small slice.  Somehow this seemed so thoughtful.  Not only was there a bit of what is a remarkably substantial cake, there was also some of the fancy stuff.

Watching the telly this morning, the world witnessed the pleasure of embedded traditions (you did watch, didn't you?), and caught a glimpse of the fancy stuff as well.  I know that Monarchies are controversial in this climate, but just for today I’m sure many felt there will always be a Britain!

Miso Soup and Joining Zatoichi

A generous tablespoon of miso paste in a cup of hot water and quicker than Zatoichi can vanquish a bad guy (or flies, this is a fun link), you have soup. A delicious solution to a quick and healthy hot drink can be that simple. You really don’t need to know more.

But why leave it there?  It turns out that miso is very interesting stuff.  Typically miso is made from soybeans; it’s actually soybean paste (there are other variations, but we’ll save that for Advanced Miso).   For anyone even slightly interested in Japanese food this is pretty common knowledge, but a quick call to Mamie and we could have more knowledge tucked in our kimono sleeve!  My Japanese chef pal started out by explaining the dark/light thing.  This is a consequence of age (darker is older), and there’s more.  Miso is associated with different prefectures of Japan.  The milder white misos are from the Kyoto area, which is in Southern Japan.  This is where Mamie grew up.  She was quick to tell me that she prefers the milder white miso.   Kyoto was the seat of Japanese nobility and is associated with the arts and refinement, hence the more subtle and delicate miso.  As she was telling me this I had the distinct impression that mellow white miso was truly part of her culinary DNA.

But what if I was talking to someone from the north?  Would they praise the darker, saltier and stronger flavored miso?   The dark, more fermented misos are associated with rustic, rural, rugged mountainous areas of chillier Northern Japan.

I like the idea of food preference as embedded DNA.  We all have our comfort foods and engaging with familiar tastes can be like returning home.  But how dull!!!  Food is one of the simplest ways to experience something new.  You can’t go wrong with a small tub of miso.  Add some little cubes of tofu and a sliced scallion to your cup of miso and you can imagine dining with Zatoichi and some less savory characters!

Black Bean Soup

I don’t always do what I’m told, but Jerry, a reader of this blog, asked me for a black bean soup recipe.  This was just the sort of directive that is more like play than work, so here it is!  Thanks Jerry.

This recipe is adapted from Deborah Madison’s wonderful book Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone.  It couldn’t be easier, especially if you own an immersion blender.  An immersion blender is a blender on a stick.  Rather than transport soup to your food processor or blender and back, you simply put the immersion blender in the pot and pulse it until you are happy with the texture of whatever it is you are subjecting to little sharp blades at the working end of this handy machine.

But back to soup.

In advance:

• Sort, wash and soak 1 1/2 cups of Black Beans.  See earlier entries starting with Meet the Beans

Cook's tools you will need:

• A heavy soup pot or the closest thing you have
• Measuring equipment
• Knife and chopping surface
• Immersion blender, regular blender or food processor (or, if you have neither and are really determined, you could manually mash some of your soup when we get to this part)

Prepare and portion other ingredients:

• 2 Tablespoons of butter or vegetable oil
• 1 cup of finely chopped onions
• 1/3 cup of diced celery
• 1/3 cup of diced carrot
• 1 cup of diced green bell pepper
• 2 bay leaves
• 2 teaspoons of chopped fresh Rosemary
• 1 teaspoon of dried Thyme
• 1 Tablespoon tomato paste
• Salt (Kosher if you have it)

 Let's go!

• Drain the beans. Set aside.
• Melt butter or heat oil in soup pot and then add the vegetables and herbs.
• Cook over medium heat for about 5 minutes or until lightly colored.
• Stir in the tomato paste and cook for one more minute (be sure to distribute it as much as possible)
• Add the beans and 2  1/2 quarts of water (10 cups)
• Bring all to a boil then lower heat and simmer partially covered for 1 hour
• After an hour add 2 teaspoons of salt and continue cooking until your beans are tender (15- 30 more minutes)
• Remove bay leaves and by using either your emersion blender or other device, blend until about 2/3 of the beans are pureed (like baby food).  If you used a blender or food processor, return soup to the pot and have a taste.

Decision time!

Deborah Madison finishes this recipe by adding 1/2 cup of Madeira (a fortified wine that is a cross between sherry and port) and 1/2 cup of cream, along with some chopped parsley.  This was very nice, but a little rich for my taste.

Other Options to finish soup:

I like a spoonful of yogurt and some chopped cilantro.  Crème fraiche would also be nice.

Then there is always the classic addition to black bean chili- some grated muenster and onions.  Chopped parsley too (something green and fresh is important).

For you soup virgins, this may sound complicated, but really, it’s quite easy.  Again, just imagine the steps, prep your ingredients ahead of time and give it a go!  It’s chilly and rainy here in Brooklyn, just the sort of weather for some nice soup.  Bon Appetite! 

Aw Nuts!

Up to this point I have assiduously avoided (or attempted to avoid) blogging as a medium of personal exposé.  I’ve tried to make it ‘like me’ but not ‘about me’.  I don’t know if that’s possible or even if I’ve been successful (notice how many I’s there are already in this entry?).  There are so many blogs out there…. many of them food related.  And why not?  Food is the stuff of life and we all eat.  We have to!  Guaranteed that every one reading this has eaten something and recently.

So why blog?  Pardon this week’s moment of personal indulgence and public rumination.  My sister Cathy reminds me that New Kitchen Primer is something that I love to do.  It keeps me writing and requires that I shoot food (both things that I love).  Does it take time?  Yes!  Have I been learning along the way?  Undoubtedly.  Do I have readers?  Not a lot, but enough to know that someone is reading.

All that said, I really don’t want this to be simply my little moment of weekly self-indulgence.  Kitchen Primer started out as an attempt to help my daughter and her pals navigate their kitchens.  I wanted to offer basic advice that wasn’t patronizing and maintained a sense of fun.  I also wanted to take some of the fear out of the kitchen. 

I know that many of my current readers don’t have these issues with their kitchens.  This has given me pause and made me feel a little under-cooked in the purpose department.

So, this weekend, I am taking a break.  Chances are I’ll be back next week with something to share, but in the meantime, if any of you out there in the internet cosmos have any suggestions or ideas, feel free to make a comment or just call me nuts!

Friends with Glass

Done!  It’s all about whom you choose to hang out with and it’s high time I started thinking about substance, longevity and good clean fun (one has to grow up eventually).  Am I about to change my social network?  April Fools!  I’m talking storage containers!

Most of the bulk stuff at Chez Pip is already stored in glass, but I’ve been meaning for some time to purchase glass storage containers for leftovers and other stuff that needs to be refrigerated and often re-heated.  Aren’t they beautiful?

Here’s why:

There is more and more evidence that storing food in plastic is bad for your health.  It’s a case of the company one keeps and the petrochemical crowd (aka plastic) likes to insinuate itself with any food it’s hanging with. Glass knows how to maintain it’s own identity and that’s always the best kind of friend.

What about plastic and your microwave!?? Fuhgeddaboudit.  Just don’t do it.  Cooking in plastic is a very bad idea.  Here’s a link to the USDA (United States Department of Agriculture) Food Safety site.  They explicitly say not to have any plastic touching your food in the microwave.  It’s all about migration; as in heat and plastic conspire to leach chemicals into your food.  A very unhealthy relationship!

There’s also the simple issue of flavors not getting attached to glass.  All good, easy to clean fun.  (We only want healthy attachments!)

Finally, let’s not forget looks.  Call me shallow, but who wouldn’t rather live with beauty and longevity?  Glass is not just a pretty face.  It may be expensive to get started with, but glass will be there for you in the long haul and that means it’s more economical in the end, not to mention better for the planet when it finally does hit the recycle bin.