I am always awed
by the bounteous spirit
of our garden’s soul
Fresh seafood was a staple on our dining table as I was growing up in Hawaii. On weekend mornings, we’d go to the beach, catch fish and gather limu (seaweed) and, if we were lucky, find an octopus or two or some panapana (sea urchin in Ilocano). These items would be simply prepared, sometimes steamed with ginger, sometimes fried to a wonderful crispiness, many variations of seafood stews, or sometimes eaten raw (like the sea urchin) and limu.
I like my fish unadulterated. I want to taste the ocean that they breathed and the seaweed that nurtured them. Whenever I go back to Hawaii, I eat poke, a popular raw fish dish in Hawaii that has a variety of preparation methods. Ingredients might include fish, shrimp and octopus, and might be flavored with seaweed, green onions, kukui nut, sea salt, chili water, even kimchee seasoning. The main thing is that the fish flavor is enhanced, not smothered.
The few glazed fish dishes I have eaten in restaurants were either over-cooked or over-sauced. It was as if someone covered dark, rich koa or cherry wood with a thick paint. Quite disrespectful!
In the interest of trying a new recipe, however, I set out to look for a glaze that might help me be more open-minded. I found a wonderfully simple recipe from America’s Test Kitchen (yet again!) that had only three ingredients to add to the salmon. Now that is simple.
In fact, it was too simple, so I decided I needed to stretch a little and bake a peach cobbler from a recipe I found in an August 2005 Martha Stewart’s Living magazine. The peach filling is tasty with just a touch of ginger, but it is the taste and texture of the topping that renders this dessert a lavish end to a simple meal.
MAPLE-SOY GLAZED SALMON
The preparation time for this meal was 40 minutes, which is the time it takes to cook basmati rice in a rice cooker. The actual time for the preparation of the maple-soy glazed salmon was about 2 0minutes, including the gathering of ingredients and cutting a side of salmon into fillets.
I simmered a 1/2 cup of maple syrup and 1/4 cup soy sauce for a few minutes until the mixture was the texture of syrup. I baked six salmon fillets, skin side down, at 450 degrees for about three minutes then basted each piece with the glaze. I baked it about three more minutes adding a little more glaze at the end.
I then sprinkled chopped up green onions and toasted sesame seeds on the top and the dish was ready. It was served with rice and a mixed green salad with ginger tofu dressing.
SALMON SIMPLY GLAZED TO PERFECTION — IN TEXAS!
PEACH COBBLER ALA MODE!
When I was five years old, I accompanied Papa (my grandpa) to the open market on Maunakea Street in Honolulu. These were special trips, and we ignored bins of fresh vegetables, meat hanging on hooks and colorful fish piled on ice on our way to a small shop lined with cages. I was entertained by live chickens, brown and white birds, proudly clucking and strutting. Grandpa examined each cage and eventually picked two or three. The shopkeeper tied the chicken’s feet and wrapped each bird tightly in white butcher paper. I was allowed to sit in the back seat to watch them as they lay still on their sides, heads sticking out, eyes blinking and occasionally a cluck.
At home, Mama placed a large metal bucket about two feet wide and one foot high on the kitchen floor. As she poured boiling water into the bucket, Papa deftly broke the chickens’ necks, cut off their heads, and we proceeded to remove feathers after the chickens were placed in the water. On those weekends, our extended family had fried chicken and various chicken soups and stews. Every part of the chicken, including the necks, feet and some of the innards, were used.
Because I was willing (eager actually) to help in the process, especially in the pulling of the feathers, I was allowed first pick at the chicken pieces. Inevitably, I selected pieces with the most skin. The wings, drumsticks and thighs were mine for the asking. Today I still choose dark meat pieces – on Thanksgiving, in a KFC bucket, at a potluck. I often replace chicken thighs for breasts when I cook.
I was therefore delighted to find a recipe on americastestkitchen.com specifically designed to optimize dark meat attributes. The host of America’s Test Kitchen (ATK), Christopher Kimball, explained that the collagen in dark meat turns into gel and absorbs a lot of liquid. The tendency of white meat, on the other hand, is to lose water and dry out during the cooking process.
This is an Italian braised dish that uses common pantry items. I dried and peppered nine pieces of chicken thighs and set that aside while I prepared the braising sauce.
To oil that was shimmering hot, I added about three ounces of prosciutto that was cut about 1/2 inch thick and diced into 1/4 inch cubes. After cooking this until it was lightly browned, I added four garlic cloves that were sliced lengthwise. As I set it aside, I wanted to make sure that it would be okay, and tasted a couple of pieces of prosciutto. It was “okay” (excellent!).
Next, I upped the temperature, added a little more olive oil and set the chicken in, skin side down. Although the written recipe called for skinning the thighs, the video noted that the crisping of the skin is part of the tastiness of this dish. Of course I kept the skin on!
I removed the chicken after about five minutes on each side, then reduced the oil to a couple of tablespoons. I added two cups of Mondavi chardonnay and a cup of chicken broth and while it simmered that for a few minutes, I scraped the chicken crusted at the bottom to get every bit into the sauce. I added four cloves, two bay leaves, twelve sage leaves and a sprinkling of red pepper flakes. I stripped a four-inch stem of rosemary of its leaves, added the stem to the sauce and chopped up the leaves to use at the end. I then nestled the chicken, skin side up, into this liquid and stuck the pan into the 325 degree oven.
I prepared two simple side dishes that would complement the strong flavors of chicken canzanese. Al dente gemilli pasta sprinkled with fresh parsley and topped with chopped fresh tomatoes was light and perfect for soaking up the sauce. Steamed fresh asparagus rounded off the palate with its distinct flavor.
After about an hour and 15 minutes, I removed the pan from the oven and placed the chicken in its serving dish. I discarded all the leaves, simmered the sauce until it reduced to a little over a cup, and added the chopped up rosemary leaves, a tablespoon of lemon juice and a couple of tablespoons of butter. I poured the sauce over the chicken and it was ready to serve.
CHICKEN CANZANESE – CRISPY SKIN, SUCCULENT MEAT, AND A RICH, FLAVORFUL SAUCE!
Note: Many thanks to America’s Test Kitchen for their videos. While their written recipes are clear and instructional, their videos bring the cooking process to life and even someone like me can replicate their dishes.
The exotic engages our senses while evoking images. For some, the exotic might be the wispy scent of jasmine tea being poured by a procelain-skinned woman wearing a kimono. For others, it might be floating in warm Pacific waters as the tropical sun descends towards the horizon and fronds of tall coconut trees flutter in aloha. It doesn’t matter whether these exotic images actually exist. What matters is that these distant lands and cultures beckon us and allow us to dream, to hope, to imagine, to appreciate.
For me, the exotic is the fragrance of spices in temporary tents around an isolated oasis or in a cacophonous bazaar where one can haggle for roasted chicken on a spit or the coveted mace and saffron. Far off places like Marrakech, Casablanca, Fez – where travelers in caravans pause for a night of lamb stew, rest, and perhaps a tale or two.
For Week 5, I harkened back to this exotic scene and found recipes at morrocanfood.about.com that promised to arouse these images – if only for a night.
RAS EL HANOUT
I used a recipe that combined 13 spices. Most were in my pantry, though some rarely used. I bought a few in bulk at Central Market, the most intriguing of which was mace, which sold at $45.95 a pound. Mace is the bright red, lacy covering of the nutmeg seed shell. While its sweet fragrance is similar to nutmeg, its bouquet is stronger, more intense. I bought the exact two teaspoons I needed for the mixture.
I poured the following into a large glass jar and shook it well:
As I transferred the Ras El Hanout into a spice jar, I was as careful as if I were handling gold dust.
Just saying this is exotic. M’rouzia is a lamb dish with raisins, almond and honey. It is traditionally prepared in the days following Eid Al Adha, or “Festival of Sacrifice,” a major Islāmic holiday that commemorates Abraham’s willingness to obey God when he envisioned that he was to sacrifice his son.
I used three pieces of lamb shank, which yielded about three pounds of meat. The Central Market butcher was kind to remove the bone and cut the meat into stew-sized pieces (I later boiled the bones for our dogs and kept its broth for uses I have yet to figure out). The meat was rich in color and texture, plump, interwoven with fat, sinew and tendon.
I soaked a 1/2 cup of golden raisins in water. In my favorite Le Creuset pot, I mixed the meat with grated onions, pressed garlic, two cinnamon sticks, two tablespoons each of Ras El Hanout and ground ginger, a 1/2 teaspoon of turmeric, salt, ground pepper, 2 cinnamon sticks, crumbled saffron and 1/2 cup butter. I cooked this on medium high heat for about 15 minutes.
I added water to cover the meat and simmered this wonderfully fragrant brew for a couple of hours. I then added the raisins, honey, a teaspoon of cinnamon and a 1/2 cup of blanched slivered almonds. This simmered for an additional 30 minutes, as the liquid became thick and syrupy. The meat became tender chunks that came apart when prodded with a fork.
RICE PILAF WITH SAFFRON
I’m accustomed to preparing rice in a rice cooker. This dish was cooked in a large skillet. While I heated four cups of chicken broth in a saucepan, I mixed white long grain rice with two tablespoons each of butter and olive oil, a chopped onion, two finely chopped garlic cloves, and two cinnamon sticks. To this I added 1/2 teaspoon each of ground ginger, white pepper, cumin and turmeric. For vegetables, I used a yellow bell pepper and a zucchini, both chopped into small chunks, and a handful of cilantro.
This rice mixture was cooked on medium heat for 10 minutes, during which I had to stir frequently to keep everything from sticking. I then added the heated broth and some saffron, stirred it once, and let it simmer for about 25 minutes.
By the time the cooking was done, I imagined our house smelled like a Marrakech souk (traditional marketplace).
Of course, this meal would not be complete without the company of fellow sojourners, and we were fortunate to have dear friends, originally from England, dine with us. We shared stories over m’rouzia and rice pilaf, finishing off iced mint tea at almost midnight.
Our friends left amid promises of more meals and tales to share. Our paths shall cross again soon.
Until I lived in Texas, my experience with Mexican food was very limited. I ate a lot of bean burritos (no onions) from Taco Bell across the street from my office. The only Mexican food I made at home was tacos using McCormick dry mix, prepared corn tortillas and bottled picante sauce. Not proud of this; just stating the facts.
I’ve had great Mexican food in Texas, and two are my favorite. One is the brisket taco from Mi Cocina; it goes great with a marguerita on the rocks. The other is any food from a taquería. Taquerías remind me of lunch wagons back in Hawaii. The food is home-cooked, authentic and basic, plus it always hits the spot.
The 2009 Texas issue of Saveur Magazine quoted the owner of Casa Jurado restaurant saying, “We don’t eat Tex-Mex here. . . No combo plates.” The article intrigued me and I decided that new recipe #4 is that of this El Paso restaurant owner – salpicón, a shredded beef salad with lime and avocado. It was described as “pure, fresh-tasting food.” I hoped it was also easy.
Sangria ala Ricardo
He refrigerated it in the morning and its fragrance was quite heady whenever I opened the fridge. I was tempted to take a sip before dinner . . . but didn’t even stick in my pinkie for a tiny taste (applause).
The recipe called for two pounds of beef brisket, which is from the breast or lower chest of the cow. This is a very muscular cut; it has a lot of connective tissue because it supports 60 percent of the weight of a standing or moving cow. Thus, it needs a long cooking time to tenderize.
I simmered the meat with two smashed garlic cloves, two bay leaves and a large sliced onion. At about 2.5 hours, I was concerned that the beef didn’t seem to be getting any softer. I prodded it a lot. At about three hours, it started to come apart, and I let it simmer for 15 more minutes for good measure.
After it cooled, I shredded the meat and prepared the additional ingredients that included cubed Jack cheese, three Roma tomatoes that were cored and seeded, chopped cilantro, fresh lime juice, scallions, and chopped chipotle chiles en adobo.
The latter is a new addition to our pantry. In my Filipino culture, adobo is a term we use for chicken and pork that’s been cooked in various ingredients, the primary of which is vinegar. Spanish adobo is different. It refers to the immersion of raw food, in this case, chipotle chiles, in stock and spices. It was originally used as a process to preserve without refrigeration and enhance flavors. The chipotle chile en adobo has a wonderfully smokey flavor and I added more than the tablespoon called for in the recipe.
The result is a dish that truly tantalizes the palette. The different flavors complement each other, and because of the chunkiness of the ingredients, one is obligated to take several bites to savor the fullness of flavors.
p.s. The peaches in the sangria must be eaten!
I started off considering fried chicken in honor of Independence Day. Fried chicken is certainly an American favorite and this meant deep-fried. Baking chicken coated with mayonnaise and corn flakes does not count. My only deep-frying experience was years ago (crispy won ton).
My search for fried chicken recipes turned up a lot of similar techniques and ingredients. I wanted something a little different. I developed a liking for mochiko chicken on recent business trips to Hawaii. One of my clients indulged me and ordered a mochiko chicken plate lunch for me when we worked through lunch on Wednesdays. Mochiko chicken it was.
A Hawaiian plate lunch is unique to the 50th State. It’s not really take-out, because you can eat it in a restaurant. It’s not just lunch; you can order a plate lunch for breakfast, lunch and dinner, and a mini version for an afternoon or midnight snack.
Wikipedia attributes the plate lunch to Hawaii and notes it is a “quintessential part” of the islands’ cuisine. Given the ethnic diversity of Hawaii, the main entrée can be Hawaiian, Japanese, Filipino, Chinese or whatever, a combination of these, or a unique fusion dish created by a renowned chef or somebody’s aunt.
The standard plate lunch has two scoops of rice, a scoop of macaroni salad, one or two main entrées, and whatever else the proprietor decides to throw in. My favorite is to smother everything in gravy.
I decided to put together a plate lunch that featured mochiko chicken with two scoops rice and one scoop of macaroni salad, with haupia thrown in for dessert. Except for the rice, these would all be new to my culinary accomplishments.
Haupia is a traditional coconut-milk based pudding served cold, and a favorite dessert at luaus and parties. Its light texture and tropical sweetness would complement the rest of my plate lunch. I prepared it well in advance of the meal time. Haupia recipes all call for coconut milk, cornstarch, sugar and water. I selected a recipe from the Polynesian Cultural Center (polynesia.com/recipes/haupia.html) because it seemed so . . . island-y.
I expected this would be the easiest of the three new dishes and was surprised by what is probably obvious to most. I learned that 6 ounces of cornstarch is about weight, not volume, so my measuring cup was of no help. The weight of dry ingredients varies and It took several Internet searches before I found that 3 grams of cornstarch is equivalent to 1/2 teaspoon (wiki.answers.com). After converting grams to ounces with the help of an Excel spreadsheet and a calculator, I figured out that I needed 9 tablespoons of cornstarch.
Another adjustment resulted from the volume of coconut milk. All of the coconut milk brands at Tom Thumb and Central Market were 13.5 ounces, rather than the recipe’s 16-ounce cans (I don’t think these exist). I reduced all other ingredients by an eighth.
I was relieved that the actual cooking of haupia was as easy as I expected. I brought the coconut milk, sugar and a cup of water to a boil, stirred it a bit, then slowly stirred in cornstarch that was mixed with two cups of water. After it thickened, I let it cool to room temperature, poured it into a baking pan and refrigerated the concoction for a couple of hours.
One down, two more to go.
When I was growing up, rice was the only starch in our meals. Potatoes were only part of stew dishes. My father once asked to substitute rice in his pasta dinner at the Old Spaghetti Factory. When I got married, I expanded the starch menu to include pasta though it wasn’t my first choice. When my son wanted macaroni and cheese, he got Chef Boyardee. Recently he brought me a Saveur magazine with a fancy macaroni and three-cheese recipe. Hope springs eternal.
I bought my first box of macaroni last week. I found a great recipe from Cook’s Country Magazine (cookscountry.com), which is affiliated with America’s Test Kitchen, my source for last week’s recipe. This recipe understood the slightly tangy, slightly sweet taste of macaroni salad on a Hawaiian plate lunch. It noted that overcooking the macaroni was key to absorption of the dressing, and that the dressing had to be thin enough to soak in.
The dressing included 1.5 cups milk, 1 cup mayonnaise, 1 tablespoon brown sugar, salt and pepper. It seemed too thin, then I realized I used low-fat milk. America’s Test Kitchen specifically warned that low-fat milk would make the dressing too thin. I added about .5 cup of mayo, but the consistency still seemed a little thin.
I prefer al dente pasta, so cooking the small elbow macaroni for 15 minutes was major anomaly in my book. I must have tasted a quarter cup of macaroni during the cooking process to make sure I wasn’t ending up with mush. Truly, this was a test in my faith in America’s Test Kitchen!
After the designated time, I drained the pound of macaroni and tossed in 0.5 cup of apple cider vinegar. I let it sit a bit to cool, then stirred in the dressing. I added a little more mayo, shredded carrots and substituted celery seeds for fresh celery. The dressing was fine and it tasted how I remembered. The recipe from America’s Test Kitches was right on the mark. I stuck the mac salad in the fridge to cool.
Two down, one to go.
Mochiko is rice flour that comes in a box that seemed to be the original 1940s packaging. It seemed so exotic that last August I brought a box back to Texas from a business trip to Hawaii. I had no idea of what I would do with it.
I found a simple yet reliable recipe for mochiko chicken at alohaworld.com. The batter included mochiko flour, cornstarch, sugar, salt, eggs, Aloha shoyu, six garlic cloves (minced) and about a tablespoon of minced ginger.
The type of shoyu, or soy sauce, is important. Kikkoman shoyu is available in Texas supermarkets, but the recipe called for Aloha Shoyu which is lighter and smoother than Kikkoman and a local staple in Hawaii. I found Aloha at HMart, an Asian market in Carrollton.
The batter seemed a little thin but I let it stand. For extra taste, I added a couple of tablespoons of sesame seeds and a sprinkle of red pepper flakes. I marinated about 5 pounds of boneless chicken thighs in the batter overnight, and turned it several times the next day. The batter seemed to have thickened.
I don’t have a deep fryer, but a wok did the job perfectly. Its shape evenly retained the vegetable oil at a high temperature and was wide enough to allow efficient frying of several pieces at one time. Richard volunteered to do most of the frying, and he did a great job! We used an entire bottle of oil!
DINNER – PLATE LUNCH STYLE
In keeping with the tradition of a plate lunch, we needed paper plates or at least foam containers. Red plastic plates that we keep for parties had to suffice.
I sprinkled furukake (Japanese dried seaweed mixture) on the two scoops of rice and threw in some kim chee (Korean garlic-pepper pickled vegetables) to spice it all up. Of course, chopsticks are standard issue for a plate lunch.
A Hawaiian plate lunch for our Texas dinner to celebrate Independence Day!
As they say in Hawaii, this was ONO (delicious)!
This week I tried two new recipes! The first was really practice. After I posted the prelude to this effort (6/15/11), I was beginning to doubt my culinary ability and commitment to try something different. So I looked for something that seemed relatively easy – Thai Peanut Sauce. Then, for my real new recipe, I tried Osso Bucco.
I found this recipe at shesimmers.com/2009/03/how-to-make-thai-peanut-sauce-my-moms.html. What attracted me to this recipe was the author’s claim that it was easy. And it was! I just needed coconut milk, unsweetened natural peanut butter, Thai red curry sauce, white vinegar, sugar salt and water. Heat this all in one pot for a few minutes, and it’s ready!
I used this as a dipping sauce for grilled chicken, zucchini and sugar snap peas, and served it with basmati rice. The leftover sauce is refrigerated for a side dish later this week.
Somewhat emboldened, I set out to make something that we might order in a restaurant because we’d never have it at home. This was to be a Father’s Day dinner so I looked for something that Richard might want. Osso bucco would hopefully satisfy his Italian palate.
I found a recipe at foodnetwork.com/recipes/giada-de-laurentiis/osso-buco-recipe. This is from Chef Giada De Laurentiis who received an Emmy for Outstanding Lifestyle Host and has become one of Food Network’s most recognizable faces. I was afraid that I am way out of her league. I must have read the recipe ten times before I committed to it.
I bought about 2 1/2 pounds of veal shank and had to tie a string around each piece to keep the meat on the bone. I had never done that before and one of the pieces came apart during the cooking process (I really am a cooking neophyte!).
I used rosemary, thyme and a bay leaf from my garden. I also found some cloves in my cupboard although I can’t remember the last time I used cloves to cook. To make the bouquet garni, I had to substitute bandage gauze for cheesecloth, which is not something I normally have need for.
Luckily, the broth, olive oil, tomato paste and flour are standard pantry issues. And, of course I always have some dry white wine in my fridge. And, really now, carrots, celery and onions should also be common staples.
I did everything the recipe called for, including browning the floured meat, cooking the vegetables until transparent, adding the tomato paste and combining all in the pot. I added the 1/2 cup wine, but at the end of the designated time, I couldn’t figure out if the liquid decreased by half. Nevertheless, I added the two cups of chicken broth and started the simmering process.
For the next 1.5 hours, I turned the meat and checked the liquid level every 15 minutes. I never added the third cup of broth that might be needed in case the liquid too low. Towards the end of the simmering process, I prepared the mashed potatoes.
My first osso bucco!
P.S. There were no leftovers . . .
In the last three weeks, I’ve thrown away six overripe bananas. Wasting food really bothered me so when the remaining three bananas on my counter started even looking mushy, I decided to make banana nut bread. Having never made this, I had to research it. I ended up baking the “World’s BEST Banana Bread – No Kidding” as posted on www.spinningsugar.wordpress.com (3/13/2007). And the bread met all expectations. It was very moist and the combination of nuts and the chunkiness of the bananas gives this bread some ooomph! In the process I also learned that banana bread is not purely of Hawaii origin. But that’s another story.
But here’s the deal. I wouldn’t have baked a new thing if I didn’t have a compelling reason. In this case, I can’t stand throwing food away. It’s not because my parents reminded me of global starving children. They simply forced me to clean my plate. So I would not throw away one more banana.
I began considering my culinary experiences. My dad did all the cooking and did not want any help. When I moved out, I was inept in the kitchen. I was 24 when I learned how to cut vegetables and make a grilled cheese sandwich. Cooking was survival and function. It’s not that I didn’t like to cook. I associated it with something I have to do.
I recently told some friends that I like to cook. I surprised myself, then realized that I am at least average in my cooking interests. These are some of my cooking magazines. I tab the recipes that “someday over the rainbow” I might try.
Plus I have great cookbooks and frequent www.foodandwine.com, www.americastestkitchen.com and www.allrecipes.com when I’m looking for a recipe. I add Internet recipes to my Favorites list and I diligently file printed recipes that I have collected over the years.
So why is it that, when it’s time to prepare dinner at home, I rely on the usual suspects? Like last night. I wanted to concoct a meal from ingredients already in my fridge and pantry. The dish had to include either pork chops, chicken, trout or ground beef, since these were in my freezer (I don’t do vegetarian). I searched my recipe sources and there was always something I didn’t have, like coconut milk, lemons, celery . . . Spontaneous dishes mean not having to go to the store.
I ended up adapting a recipe from Saveur, a magazine that my son picks up at airports when he flies in to visit us (he throws many such hints). Tian Tian Chao Mian (May 2010 issue) is “everyday fried noodles.” I did not have the ground pork, garlic, seedless cucumbers, bean sprouts and scallions that are called for in the recipe. But I did have chicken, sugar snap peas, ginger, carrots, peanuts, the liquid ingredients (soy sauce, sesame oil and rice cooking wine) and lo mein noodles.
Plus the wok is a magic cauldron. One cannot go wrong with a wok as long you remember HOT and QUICK. This dish turned out quite tasty, and I look forward to the three tablespoons of leftovers.
Nevertheless, this dish was an improvisation, a modification, of something I’ve done before. Teriyaki anything, for example, is not a new recipe for me. Neither is pasta sauce using turkey rather than pork sausage. Or variations of chocolate or custard pies. Or any kind of quiche.
I want to try recipes of dishes that I have not yet prepared. Something N-E-W! I need to reinvent my culinary skills (such as they are) and awake my palate.
So I’m on a mission. I will try one new recipe a week. One a week may not seem much to most foodies, but it’s a start.
I will post the results of the next new recipe next Monday,
Who knows? Someday I may make up a new recipe myself . . .