I wasn't going to post this. I'll admit it. It was a series of mistakes and random ingredients. The wife, however, considers this a recipe box and demanded it be posted. So here we go.
What if you were about to be lazy and make an aglio e olio, having chopped the garlic and all, and then realize you're out of olive oil?
Sigh.
Well, we have corn tortillas and corn oil, right? Let's do... that.
Well, it turns out we also have ingredients for those wonderful black beans. Minus the onions and chicken stock, but we have red and water, right? Perfect.
So we'll dice up a few chicken breasts and then toss them in corn oil with the garlic, add some whole cumin, and then add oregano and paprika as it settles. Maybe some leftover enchilada sauce? Absolutely. Some salt will round that out nicely. That will all simmer while we're waiting on the beans, which do take a bit longer.
In the meantime we'll find some asadero and maybe some queso blanco and cube that to about 1/8th inch. Romaine and yogurt should round that out.
When it's all done, quickly get some corn oil hot and briefly toast the tortillas on each side. And suddenly: dinner.
Jan 18, 2011
Jan 2, 2011
Indian dinner
Way back when I just started writing this blog and wasn't sure what to do with it I started to draft some sort of essay on Indian cooking. Check the archives; it never made it to publication. Since then I've posted three Indian(ish) recipes, one of which hardly even counts despite having a semi-accurate flavor profile and ingredient list.
Which is all leading up to say: Indian cooking can be tricky. Forget the ingredients; they're really not that unusual for the most part. We all know about cumin and ginger and mustard and cinnamon and even some of the less obvious things spices like turmeric, coriander, and even cardamom aren't anything all that special. In the end dal is just lentils and asafoetida isn't strictly necessary.
And yet it still ends up being somewhat tricky to figure out -- largely because of the process involved. But rest assured, tricky doesn't mean hard. Just... tricky. All the rules about what goes in when and why in French cooking get tossed out the window (note: same is true of most Asian cuisines; it's just that Indian food is also quite different than anything with Sino-Japanese influences). You end up building your spice profile from the beginning rather than the end, use odd thickening tricks, employ dairy in weird ways... etc, etc, etc. But once you get the hang of it it's actually pretty hard to screw it up. At least not too badly. After trying a few (good) recipes (that actually try to explain themselves) and maybe using some of those boxed spice mixes (and analyzing what's in them and what each ingredient adds) improving becomes relatively simple.
Case in point: new year's eve 2010. The wife (am I going to get used to saying that sometime?) calls on the way home and requests Indian. A quick inventory of the kitchen and a run to the store yields:
Looks viable... right?
Of course. We'll start with the rice:
Then move on to bigger, better things. Like building a spice profile and braising a bit. In a skillet combine:
In the meantime cube up your meat of choice. Since mine was beef I felt obligated to conservatively apply salt and pepper. Brown that in the superheated oil then transfer to a stock pot (along with some of the oil, naturally).
Take the heat down in the skillet, add a touch more oil along with the seeds from a half dozen cardamom pods. Bring the heat back up a bit until they become pungent and then quickly add onions chunked rather largely and toss until they're just slightly cooked. Then transfer everything to the stock pot, scraping for all the little bits of goodness left behind from the high heat.
Now you're just stewing. Add:
And that's it. Walk away. When the potatoes are done you have dinner.
Serve in a bowl with layers of rice, stew, and yogurt. Garnish with cilantro if you're so inclined.
See? Simple. The spices toasted at the beginning are the primary flavor modifiers -- and they had to be whole in order to stand up to the high heat without burning. The secondary spices are more mellow, present primarily to round out the flavor. The onions are left nearly raw, imparting a very different flavor than the long sweats and browns you're used to. The jalapenos add just enough heat to notice without being overpowering. The potatoes take on the flavor of the broth, oil, and tomatoes. And it all works wonderfully.
But yes, it does take some getting used to.
Which is all leading up to say: Indian cooking can be tricky. Forget the ingredients; they're really not that unusual for the most part. We all know about cumin and ginger and mustard and cinnamon and even some of the less obvious things spices like turmeric, coriander, and even cardamom aren't anything all that special. In the end dal is just lentils and asafoetida isn't strictly necessary.
And yet it still ends up being somewhat tricky to figure out -- largely because of the process involved. But rest assured, tricky doesn't mean hard. Just... tricky. All the rules about what goes in when and why in French cooking get tossed out the window (note: same is true of most Asian cuisines; it's just that Indian food is also quite different than anything with Sino-Japanese influences). You end up building your spice profile from the beginning rather than the end, use odd thickening tricks, employ dairy in weird ways... etc, etc, etc. But once you get the hang of it it's actually pretty hard to screw it up. At least not too badly. After trying a few (good) recipes (that actually try to explain themselves) and maybe using some of those boxed spice mixes (and analyzing what's in them and what each ingredient adds) improving becomes relatively simple.
Case in point: new year's eve 2010. The wife (am I going to get used to saying that sometime?) calls on the way home and requests Indian. A quick inventory of the kitchen and a run to the store yields:
- Almost 2 lbs of tri tip (thank god for discount meat but note that there's absolutely no reason to use this if you want to be authentic or otherwise cost-conscious; just replace with boneless skinless chicken breasts if you prefer)
- 2 yellow onions
- 3 bell peppers
- 3 jalapenos
- 7 red potatoes
- Chicken broth
- 1 large can diced tomatoes
- 1 can tomato paste
- Olive oil
- Cumin (whole; this is important)
- Coriander (whole; this is important)
- Cardamom pods (always pods; the flavor difference is substantial)
- Ginger (powder is fine but raw grated is always good)
- Cinnamon (ground; sticks are fine)
- Yogurt
- Rice
- Salt/pepper
Looks viable... right?
Of course. We'll start with the rice:
- Make rice
Then move on to bigger, better things. Like building a spice profile and braising a bit. In a skillet combine:
- Olive oil
- Cumin seeds
- Coriander seeds
In the meantime cube up your meat of choice. Since mine was beef I felt obligated to conservatively apply salt and pepper. Brown that in the superheated oil then transfer to a stock pot (along with some of the oil, naturally).
Take the heat down in the skillet, add a touch more oil along with the seeds from a half dozen cardamom pods. Bring the heat back up a bit until they become pungent and then quickly add onions chunked rather largely and toss until they're just slightly cooked. Then transfer everything to the stock pot, scraping for all the little bits of goodness left behind from the high heat.
Now you're just stewing. Add:
- Bell peppers, also chunked
- Jalapenos, I like them ring sliced, seeds and all
- Diced tomatoes with juice
- Chicken broth
- Ginger
- Potatoes, large chunks
- Cinnamon to taste -- but don't go overboard
- Tomato paste to thicken
And that's it. Walk away. When the potatoes are done you have dinner.
Serve in a bowl with layers of rice, stew, and yogurt. Garnish with cilantro if you're so inclined.
See? Simple. The spices toasted at the beginning are the primary flavor modifiers -- and they had to be whole in order to stand up to the high heat without burning. The secondary spices are more mellow, present primarily to round out the flavor. The onions are left nearly raw, imparting a very different flavor than the long sweats and browns you're used to. The jalapenos add just enough heat to notice without being overpowering. The potatoes take on the flavor of the broth, oil, and tomatoes. And it all works wonderfully.
But yes, it does take some getting used to.
Jan 1, 2011
Another christmas dinner
Ok, this was actually Christmas Eve. But the sentiment was there.
Nothing fancy; just meat, salad, and bread. Well, ok, maybe a little fancy.
First, a compote to go with the meat (and the bread the next day). In a small sauce pan I combined:
The salad was fairly simple: red chard, cilantro, sesame seeds, cranberries, and mandarin oranges. If nothing else it was quite pretty. Dressing went like this:
Pretty and festive. And delicious.
Nothing fancy; just meat, salad, and bread. Well, ok, maybe a little fancy.
First, a compote to go with the meat (and the bread the next day). In a small sauce pan I combined:
- 2 cups water
- 1 cup raw sugar
- 1 cup cranberries
- 2 meyer lemons (yeah, I still had some left over)
- Generous amounts of allspice
The salad was fairly simple: red chard, cilantro, sesame seeds, cranberries, and mandarin oranges. If nothing else it was quite pretty. Dressing went like this:
- White wine vinegar
- Olive oil
- Honey
- Garlic
- Black pepper
- Cayenne (not too much; just a slight bite to offset the cranberries and complement the honey)
Pretty and festive. And delicious.
Mediterranean fun
A few weeks ago I ran across a huge sale on meyer lemons (and chicken thighs) and was left with very little idea as far as what to do with them. So it was experiment time. In this case I decided to look around the Mediterranean area and see what I could pull together.
First, the lemons. I took two, sliced them thin, and brushed them with olive oil. They went on a baking sheet with half a head of garlic and then in to the oven at about 325 for half an hour. The lemons ended up slightly browned and the garlic was wonderfully mellow and mushy.
In the meantime, I dredged the chicken in flour, cayenne, paprika, and allspice and then browned it in an olive oil butter combination.
Once the lemons and garlic were ready, I chopped them along with kalamta olives and capers.
I added all the leftover flour to make a roux around the chicken then added everything in with a bit of chicken broth and simmered it down until the sauce was fully integrated and the chicken cooked through.
This worked wonderfully over pasta and would have done just fine on couscous as well.
Nice to have a slightly different flavor profile once in awhile.
First, the lemons. I took two, sliced them thin, and brushed them with olive oil. They went on a baking sheet with half a head of garlic and then in to the oven at about 325 for half an hour. The lemons ended up slightly browned and the garlic was wonderfully mellow and mushy.
In the meantime, I dredged the chicken in flour, cayenne, paprika, and allspice and then browned it in an olive oil butter combination.
Once the lemons and garlic were ready, I chopped them along with kalamta olives and capers.
I added all the leftover flour to make a roux around the chicken then added everything in with a bit of chicken broth and simmered it down until the sauce was fully integrated and the chicken cooked through.
This worked wonderfully over pasta and would have done just fine on couscous as well.
Nice to have a slightly different flavor profile once in awhile.
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