Seared Pistachio & Wasabi Encrusted Tuna

Garlic Scapes, Snow Peas and Baby Spinach

Pan fried Ziti with Feta and Kalamata Olives

This meal began as I was making room in our freezer for nearly twenty pounds of fresh pick-you-own strawberries. Something had to go.

Pulling out a couple of flash frozen tuna steaks, eyeing the bowl of pistachios on the counter, and knowing that, if we’re going to get garlic out of the garden, we’ll have to keep it from going to seed, and that we had snow peas ready for picking…these thing all conspired to determine the menu. With the pan fried ziti (a planned leftover from the fridge), the easiest and final piece of the puzzle fell into place.

Tuna

We know that, by being near the top of the food chain, these big fish concentrate mercury in their tissues. This is a profoundly sad part of living in the world we’ve made. We eat tuna rare and rarely, favoring fish lower in the food chain that live shorter lives and have less time to concentrate industrial toxins in their tissues. Children should not be eating tuna at all.

The oceans, which used to seem so big, are now small compared to the amount of toxic elements falling, being poured and running into them. We definitely need to start aggressively exploiting decentralized, non-toxic, renewable energy sources. Anything you can do in this regard will help. Go turn off those lights in the other room.

I opened the heavy bags in which the tuna was flash frozen somewhere out in the middle of the Pacific, and smelled the ocean. This is what you should smell. Anything else is bad news.

I washed and dried the tuna steaks, cut each steak in half across the grain, and set them out on wax paper and paper towels while I prepared the crust ingredients.

Pistachios & Wasabi crust

We shelled the pistachios with admiration for any restaurant that tries this sort of dish. Then I took a piece of that open-mesh plastic bag that onions come in (I always keep a piece of this in the kitchen somewhere), and wrapping up the shelled pistachios rubbed them vigorously against one and other in the bag, which strips a lot of the papery cover off the nut meats while making a big mess. I do this over a large cutting board, but you’d have to clean the counter, too.

I put the pistachios in the third, and only, nut-chopper that has ever worked and quickly rendered them a step toward pistachio dust. Adding a couple of heaping tablespoons of powdered wasabi (Japanese horseradish powder, familiar to sushi enthusiasts), I combined these and poured them onto a plate.

Press the tuna steaks firmly into the nut and wasabi mixture, turn it over and do it again. Lay them out on a plate and refrigerate them loosely covered with wax paper. This will help set the crust mixture and keep the tuna bright and fresh.

Garlic Scapes & Snow Peas

Garlic scapes in this case came from our crook-necked garlic beds in the back yard, but this time of year you can find their cute curly-cued little necks at farmer’s markets and in some better fresh vegetable departments.

I slivered these lengthwise, leaving pieces about an inch to an inch and a quarter long, doing the same to the snow pea pods, cut on the diagonal and set them aside together.

Baby Spinach

This stuff was so alive at the farmer’s market this morning that it was literally talking to me. I couldn’t leave it there. When I got it home, I washed it in a big mixing bowl of cold water and spun it dry in my salad spinner, then wrapped it up in paper towels and put it into a plastic bag. It would keep for days like this, but why? Dinner!

Did I mention the Red Onion?

Um, no. Well, all this green on the plate (wasabi, spinach, snow peas, garlic scapes…did I mention the pistachios?)  and the dreamt of red center of the seared tuna steaks called for a red garnish of some sort. I nearly forgot this when we made the plates and had to go back and take photos a second time.

I peeled, halved and sliced the onion into 1/8^th inch rounds and put them into a rice vinegar and sugar mixture into which, in an inspired moment for a meal some weeks ago, I had put a curl of cinnamon bark for a day or so.

Left for about an hour before the meal was ready, this garnish sent the whole plate over the top with just a hint of the (by then, forgotten) cinnamon. It was a revelatory detail.

Cooking

This was the tricky part:  everything seemed to want to be cooked at the same moment – the tuna hot and fast, the snow peas and scapes medium, the spinach slowly…

Snow peas and scapes went into a spacious pan first to sweat with a little olive oil and then out into a bowl to keep warm.

On Green Things: If you want things like spinach and snow peas and green things to remain green, you have just under 9 minutes of heat before the chlorophyll breaks down into an unappetizing kachi grey. Vinegar will do this almost instantly, too, cooking the plant material and rendering it a dull and unhappy grey. I cooked these for about two and a half minutes or so, saving their crunch and their beautiful color.

Tuna searing next in my biggest, heaviest hot cast iron frying pan. You want room around the fish for the heat to escape, searing just the cooked surfaces, not the interior or the sides.

Once the tuna was in the pan, I turned a mountain of spinach out into the pan I’d used for the snow peas and scapes and turned it carefully on low heat, minding the tuna at the same time.

Turning the tuna, I set a cookie rack over some wax paper on the counter to receive the tuna from the pan. Removing the tuna carefully, I set it on the racks to rest, cool a bit and become sliceable. Try to slice this fresh from the pan and you’ll ruin it.

I turned the spinach some more and shut the pan off before the last leaves were wilted, turning them under the cooked portions and letting the residual heat do the rest.

The Ziti leftovers

The pan fried ziti were next (and actually only became a part of the meal because the timing worked out just right).  I fired up the heavy cast-iron pan I’d used for the fish and scattered one layer of ziti in it, gave it a shake and let them sit to crust up a bit on one side, while the fish was resting and gave them a toss later as the plates were being readied.

I touched up the edge on one of my Japanese sushi knives and carefully sliced two of the tuna steaks, fanned the slices out over a foundation of spinach topped with garlic scapes and snow peas and added the ziti to the side. Lightly pickled red onions on top, which as noted, I nearly forgot.

Dinner!

We set the table on the side porch and Barb said, “Maybe we should take some pictures…”

So, there you have it. Finally. Three weeks off the road, home at last, and not flat on my back in bed:  dinner for two.

Scott’s Smoked Jalapeno Shrimp & Grits

Many of my meals begin with an ingredient.

This Christmas a 24 oz. jar of “Smokin’ Dave’s All Natural Smoked Jalapenos” turned up under the tree. The thought of opening a 24 oz. jar of these babies and having them sit around in the fridge for months gave me pause. But, seizing the, um – jalapeno – by the horns, I opened the jar this week.

Amazingly rich and smoky, these jalapenos packed in vinegar were really HOT.

So, having returned from Charleston and the low country of South Carolina with a bag of stone ground yellow corn grits and a couple of cases of Blenheim’s Hot Ginger Ale, I decided to work up a version of the classic southern Shrimp and Grits.

The Day Before

Shrimp Stock for the Grits:

I shelled four pounds of medium shrimp, reserving the shells to make stock and sprinkled the shrimp themselves with some lovely Smoked Spanish Paprika from Penzey’s (a favorite spice vendor out in Ohio) and a mix of Cajun spices (cayenne, salt pepper, powdered garlic and onion-the usual) and set them in a sealed container in the fridge.

I drained all the liquid from the shells in a colander, heated up some oil in a saucepan and roasted the shells, a quartered yellow onion (with the skin on), the rough ends of a stalk of celery, black pepper, a pinch of salt, and six or seven bay leaves. After tossing them around until the shrimp shells had developed some good color and the vegetable started to wilt a bit, I took the pan off the heat.

After it cooled for a few minutes, I filled the pan with cold water and returned it to a low flame. Be sure to skim the broth as it comes to temperature. The proteins from the shrimp will cause the top to scum up and if left unattended that will cloud the broth. Better to get rid of that stuff as it develops. Skim every 10-15 minutes. Lowest heat you can imagine. At least an hour, more if you’ve got time.

Using this Shrimp Stock, I made up the grits a day early.

2 c. stone ground yellow grits

8-9 c. Shrimp Stock with water added as necessary.

Pinch of salt

Fresh ground pepper

And later:  2-3 c. of grated cheese (I used a Grafton White Vermont Cheddar)

When done:  fold in 1 c. minced drained, smoked jalapenos

I cooked them down slowly on top of the stove, grated a couple of cups of sharp cheddar cheese into them. When they were done, I mixed in about a cup of drained, minced Smoked Jalapenos. Laying out a piece of parchment paper on a baking sheet with sides, I spread the grits evenly across the pan. I misted a piece of plastic wrap with oil and covered them up and allowed them to cool and set over night. Tomorrow, once cool and set, with a quick misting of oil, these will be cut into squares and reheated/crisped up in a 475 degree oven.

Day Of The Dinner

With The Shrimp:

While walking around the grocery store the next morning, I decided the dish needed:

3 bunches of scallions

2 beautiful red peppers (they were on sale)

1 lime, and

2 pretty, nice-sized red onions

The Grits:

I cut the sheet pan of grits into squares roughly 3 or 4 inches on a side, carefully lifted them out of the pan and set them apart on a cutting board, patting them dry with paper towels while being careful not to break the square’s edges or corners.

I preheated my cast iron griddle on an upper rack in a 475 degree over, leaving it for about a 1/2 hour more, once the oven reached temperature.

Once at temperature, I misted the top of the grits squares with oil and opened the oven.

I misted the griddle and quickly set the grit squares on it, enjoying their sizzling, leaving about a 1/2″ between squares. I figured on two squares per serving. I was planning on feeding six of us. Twelve squares. And a couple left over.

Closing up the oven, and figuring on leaving them alone in there for at least 30 minutes, I turned to the shrimp prep work.

The Shrimp Prep, Part II The Vegetables:

I cleaned and cut up the red onions and peppers into medium sized pieces and set them in bowls.

Cleaned the scallions and cut the greens into about 3″ long pieces, setting them aside.

Just before the grits were done, with the assembled guest standing around in the kitchen, I began the top of the stove work by preheating two large cast iron frying pans, (so the shrimp wouldn’t be too crowded and steam each other).

I divided the red peppers and red onions between the two pans dry, tossing them into the hot pans without adding any oil or fat. This allows the vegetables to char, rather than fry or sauté and is a wonderful way to add smokiness to any dish. Tossing them in the pans after a few minutes of letting them sit still and char, I removed them before they’d really wilted to a large preheated bowl and covered them with a pan lid, to keep warm and finish cooking through.

Time for a Beer and Conversation:

Squinting at the grits in the oven, looking for crispness and color, I decided to hold up for a moment and let the grits crisp up a little more before proceeding. I turned off the cast iron pans and opened a beer, joking around with our company, testing Barb’s appetizers. Yum. Barb? Guest spot on the blog???

The Shrimp III:

When the grits had the color I wanted and with everything else ready, I heated the pans up to scorching heat again and added a small pat of butter to each pan and some olive oil to keep it from burning. Swirling that around the pan bottoms, I added the shrimp, gave the pans a shake to distribute them and let them sit.

The idea here is to sear some part of the shrimp without moving them. If you start shaking the pan immediately, they’ll steam each other. If you move them about, they won’t sear. You must realize that you can’t get them seared all over without terribly over cooking them. So what you’re after here is to sear some part of each shrimp. After a few minutes, turn them and shake them up. Then leave them alone for a little while.

While you can still see some translucence in some of the shrimp, toss in the scallions.

I then added a splash of rum and flamed the shrimp to get them all hot and finish their cooking. I added the red onions and peppers back into the pans and squeezed half of a lime over each pan and turned them off.

We put two squares of crispy grit cakes on each plate, one lapping on top the other. A couple spoonfuls of shrimp and vegetables were strewn over the top and headed for the table. Where a secret ingredient was waiting.

The Secret Ingredient: A Homemade, Sweet, Smoked Jalapeno Hot Sauce

The thought of using only an ounce or two of those Smoked Jalapenos-and being stuck with a nearly full open jar on the refrigerator door-was unappealing to me. So, the morning before the meal, I decided to make a Sweet Smoked Jalapeno hot sauce to go with the meal.

I reserved the smoky vinegar from about half the jar of Jalapenos, seeded them (being careful to wear a latex glove on my non-knife hand), cut them into strips and then minced them, red and green together.

I poured the reserved vinegar into a heavy sauce pan, added a lot of sugar and also a fair amount of corn syrup (not an ingredient I normally have or use, but…) and I began cooking the mixture over low heat. Watching it thicken, I added more vinegar from the jar. More sugar (it was really spicy). Some white vinegar. Then more corn syrup. A tablespoon of kosher salt….

Just when I figured I had the mix about right, I added in the minced peppers and brought it all back to a boil.

I scalded some small canning jars and lids and then canned the sauce. We opened a jar for the table and a generous scoop of this stuff over all the shrimp and grits had members of the party figuring there must be bacon in the dish. It was really smoky! And the heat, balanced by the sweetness, set of the dish in a way that cried out for the cooking blog. So, here it is.

Timing:

My stepson, Jesse Ackemann, came by in the late morning to pick up some things and visit. We had a nice red onion, red pepper, and feta frittata for breakfast with the end of the last batch of sourdough bread. And, the lucky fellow got sent home with a jar of hot sauce.

Timing is everything in life. Just ask Jesse. Or drop by sometime. You’ll see.

The process of ‘cooking’ fish or shrimp in a citrus marinade is ancient and still common in Central and South American coastal communities. Lime, lemon, grapefruit and bitter orange juices are employed to denature the proteins in fresh halibut, mahi mahi, sea bass, flounder, shrimp, octopus, squid, tuna and mackerel.

Traditional flavorings vary by region and can include salt, onion, chiles, avocado, coriander, parsley, cilantro, hot and sweet peppers.

This citrus pickling of fresh seafood can take from a few minutes to several hours, depending on the fish chosen and the thickness of the cut. More delicate fish like flounder or other white fish may be served after a brief period of marinating, while octopus and squid may take as long as 3-8 hours, depending on how they are cut and prepared.

The Menu

I decided to make ceviche while I was out running around to the banks and the post office. Summer is a perfect time to have a cool entrée. And summer in Vermont, which can furnish us with cool evenings, makes a wonderful setting for a contrasts. I ran by the grocery and developed the meal as I went.

Ceviche:

6 fresh limes
1 lb. of fresh 26/30 count Shrimp
1 sweet Red Pepper
A spray of vine-ripened Tomatoes
1 medium sized Fennel root
2 ripe Avocados

Crisp Fried Zucchini/Potato Pancakes:

1 large Zucchini
3-4 Russet potatoes
2 eggs

Pan Roasted Broccoli and Vidalia Onion:

3-4 Broccoli crowns
1 large Vidalia onion

Advance Prep

The key to making Zucchini/Potato Pancakes is getting the moisture out of the ingredients, so the first thing I did was to grate the zucchini and the potatoes into a heavy colander, toss them with salt and set them to drain over a bowl deep enough so the colander would never be sitting in the juice.

Pressing the pulp down firmly, I extracted nearly three cups of liquid from the pulp and pouring it out found a 1/4″ layer of white potato starch in the bottom of the bowl, which I might have used to thicken something, but didn’t. Note to self. I covered the pulp in the colander with plastic wrap and continued to return to it the press it down now and then over the course of the afternoon.

I shelled, de-veined and cut the shrimp in half lengthwise to shorten their curing time. I zested two of the limes after washing them carefully and then juiced all six, combining the prepared shrimp, juice and zest in a covered container with about 1-1/5 tablespoons of kosher salt. I set this in the refrigerator and gave is a shake once or twice over the next six or seven hours. It is best if the juice actually covers the seafood you choose.

I then trimmed and split the broccoli florets into one bowl, seeded and de-veined the red pepper, trimmed and skinned the Vidalia onion, washed and cleaned the fennel, and washed two of the ripest of the tomatoes, set them aside covered with plastic wrap and went back to my guitar.

Dinner Time

Ceviche:

I drained the shrimp, which were beautifully opaque, reserving the lime juice. Dicing the red pepper, taking thin shavings off the fennel root to julienne, cutting the tomatoes cross-wise and seeding them prior to a dice to match the red peppers, I put this all in the lime juice reserved from the shrimp.

My wife halved and cut the avocados into slices and then crosswise into shrimp-sized pieces and these also went into the lime juice briefly.  Then all were strained out and let to dry for a few minutes.

The shrimp were patted dry and all these elements were combined in a large bowl and set under wrap in the refrigerator.

Broccoli & Vidali Onion & Zucchini/Potato Pancakes:

I heated up my favorite wok, cut the onion into chunks and tossed them in a little browned butter over medium-high heat, then turned down to medium low.

I heated up my biggest cast iron frying pan and put about 1/4″ of canola oil in it.

I tossed the broccoli florets in on top of the onion in the wok and covered it, turning the heat down as low as possible. And preheated the oven to 400 degrees, putting a sided baking sheet with a cake rack in it to receive the pancakes as they were done.

I combined two beaten eggs and some fresh ground black pepper with the well-drained and squeezed zucchini and potato pulp and tossed it around. Adding about 3/4 cup of this mixture to the hot oil in the frying pan I flattened it out with the edge of the spatula into a pancake 5-7″ across and let it brown well on one side.

I tossed the broccoli and onion mixture in the wok and uncovered it.

I turned the pancake using a second spatula for the top to keep it from splashing in the oil and browned the other side well. As these were done, I removed them in turn to the pre-heated cake rack/baking sheet rig in the oven until they were all cooked.

Plating Up:

We laid out fresh bib lettuce from the garden on the plates, put a crisp zucchini/potato pancake on that, eased a spoonful of the broccoli and Vidalia onion up against it and put a couple of heaping spoonfuls of the shrimp ceviche with red pepper, tomato, avocado, fennel shavings and lime zest on top of the pancake, opened a couple of beers and headed for the table.

Guest: Keith Murphy

Our neighbor here in what we affectionately call Brattleboro’s music ghetto, Keith Murphy, joined us for dinner and conversation on the side porch. The air was cool and relatively dry. Traffic on Washington Street was blessedly slow and infrequent. Our conversation meandered through music and politics, local personalities and the music business. Then we walked across the street to admire his new wooden fence.

You can hear Keith’s music at http://www.blackislemusic.com. and his work with Jeremiah McClain and Becky Tracy as “Nightingale” at http://www.nightingalevt.org. You will be delighted. Guaranteed.

Every year Barb makes these coffee cakes from a recipe she got from her sister-in-law, Sally Boscaljon.   Every year people ask her for the recipe, which she gladly shares.   The thing is,  it’s hard to explain in just words how to put this together, so here’s an illustrated recipe!  (The extra set of hands belong to Barb’s son Jesse who was part of the first-ever Bert’s Coffee Cake Ring!

The Recipe:

Bert’s Coffee Cake
(makes 4)

mix together like pie crust:
4 3/4 c. flour
1 c. butter or marg.
1/2 t. salt

Crush cake yeast with fork, add sugar and mix to liquid.  Add milk, eggs and mix.
(With dry yeast, dissolve in lukewarm milk, add sugar and eggs.)

1 1oz cake yeast or 2 pkg dry yeast
1/3 c. sugar
1 c. lukewarm milk
3 eggs

Add yeast mixture to flour mixture – it will be sticky!  Clean away from edge of bowl and pat with flour; cover and let chill overnight.

Divide in 4 parts.   Knead each  — the more the better.
Roll into rectangle like jelly roll.

Filling:
3/4 c butter or margarine
1 1/2 c. brown sugar
1 t. cinnamon
1 to 1 1/2 c. chopped pecans

Note:  This is very generous.  You could cut back on the amount of filling, or on the amount of butter.  I usually add more cinnamon, though!

You can melt butter and mix in other ingredients.  Dot and spread as best you can.
OR…. Mix filling ingredients in food processor and spread crumbs over dough. If you opt for spreading crumbs, it’s helpful to press them into the dough.  Flour your rolling pin and you can roll them and stretch the dough out even thinner!  (Thinner=more layers!  Yum!)

Roll up like jelly roll and cut in two lengthwise – but not quite to the end.

Rotate cut sides to expose cut edges of layers

and then lay one half over the other to make twist.

You can invert the uncut end to expose the filling.

Pinch ends together and transfer to a greased cookie sheet.

Cover and let rise 1 hour or so in a warm place – it will double in size.

Bake in 350° oven for 20 minutes – watch carefully!

Option for ring:  use two of your four pieces of dough.  Roll and  cut as above.  Open both out straight  and cross at center.

Braid from the middle out and form into a ring,

join ends and crimp together.

It’s helpful if you have a cookie sheet without edges which you may be able to slide under your creation.   Or… get some extra hands to gently lift this onto your cookie sheet!  Bake as above.

Gabe’s Cooking Audition

On Tuesday August 19, 2008, I was scheduled for a cooking audition between 3:00 pm and 6:00 pm at Top of the Hill Restaurant and Brewery, a local establishment in Chapel Hill, NC. I had no idea what ingredients I might face when I walked through the door.

My instructions were as follows: prepare two servings of one appetizer, one salad, and one entree. And in the three dishes I had to use the ingredients I was given at least once throughout the courses. My ingredients were:

1. Salmon
2. Bratwurst
3. Strip loin (the vein-y end that no one wants to work with)
4. Shrimp
5. Red Onion
6. Poblano Peppers
7. Artichokes
8. Chopped Precooked Bacon
9. Butternut Squash

I played with several ideas for each of the dishes. The salad was the first one that was set in stone, while the other two flipped around a bit. I settled down and set to work.

Grilled Salmon Appetizer

First, I seasoned the salmon with a season I call ‘Powder de Gabriel’ – salt, pepper, granulated garlic (a fair amount), granulated onion, and a pinch of white
pepper. I grilled it on their open flame grill, quarter turning
it to get the diamond effect. Then I sauteed artichoke hearts
in butter with garlic, roast tomatoes, basil ribbons, and chopped
bacon, and laid the saute mixture over the grilled salmon. I finished
the dish with a zig-zag pattern of a Chipotle Remoulade that
Top of the Hill has in house. I reserved one serving and sent the other to the judges.

Grilled Blackened Shrimp with Pesto Vinaigrette Salad

For the salad, I first prepared a dressing by mixing their in-house pesto with their balsamic vinaigrette dressing, adding a little extra balsamic vinegar for flavor. I took the mixed greens they have in house and made a bed for my salad, over which I put basil ribbons, red onions, and sliced tomatoes. I prepared the shrimp with a dry rub consisting of small amount of flour, salt, pepper, granulated garlic and onion, a dash of cayenne pepper, and blackening seasoning (A note to my dad: I would have used curry and cumin but they were not at my disposal). I grilled the shrimp quickly on the open flame grill and scattered them on the salad.

Roasted Strip Loin with Poblano Peppers, Onions,
and Bratwurst Stuffing

I took the strip loin and sliced it into two pieces about eight
by 4 inches wide and about three quarters of an inch thick. I then
pounded it down to about half an inch thick. I season the
beef with their in-house beef seasoning and set it aside.

I sauteed the Poblano peppers with white onion in butter and a healthy amount of minced garlic. While they sauteed, I skinned and quartered the Brats lengthwise, and chopped it into little triangles. Once the peppers and onions were flexible, I threw in the bratwurst. After everything was heated thoroughly I took a handful of the pepper/onion/garlic/bratwurst combination and put it in the center of the beef and rolled
the beef around it, tying it with cooking twine. The meat went
into the oven at 350 for about twenty-five minutes and came
out a medium to medium rare. I plated it with steamed
butternut squash and sent it out front, starting the clock on the hardest 15 minutes I’ve had in a long time. I turned to the other cooks in the kitchen and said, “What do I do now?”

“Now,” they said, “You wait.”

The executive chef showed up in the kitchen about 15 minutes
after my dish was sent out. He called me over and pulled
out the second portions and said, “Let’s talk.”

After we had had a chance to discuss the dishes, he invited all the other chefs in the kitchen to try them. Everyone seemed to think that I had done fairly
well. A half an hour later, I had hours on the schedule at decent hourly rate.

It was a hair-raising, enjoyable experience.

A delicious meal prepared by our guest chef Eric Goodenough:

Cod with a topping of sautéed onions, red bell pepper, chipotle*, garlic, olive oil, freshly toasted and ground cumin, sea salt, fresh cilantro, one diced ripe tomato and juice of one lime.

Served with Brussels sprouts, sliced in half, cooked flat edge down in a pan with butter, rice, black beans and handmade corn tortillas from a latino market in Gaithersburg, Maryland.

The black beans were cooked with minced onion, toasted and ground cumin and ground cinnamon and cured lemons.

*A chipotle is a dried smoked jalapeño. Put it in a dry pan and heat it up. This softens it and allows you to get the seeds out. For more heat, you can leave the seeds in.

Cooking with Dried Mexican Chiles

For a long time, afraid of the heat, I was shy about cooking with Mexican chiles. Then I learned that if something is too spicy hot, one can calm it down – not with yoghurt, or potatoes, or cream, but – with sweetness. Experience teaches us that you can dilute all you want and all you’ll wind up with is a LOT more of something that’s too spicy. Sugar is your safety valve when it comes to playing with fire.

Whether it’s dried cranberries or apricots, raisins, sugar, you can tame a dish that has gotten away from you, if you’ll just allow yourself to partake of one (or some) of the sweeter things in life. (Consider striking a blow against your Calvinist upbringing; you know who you are.)

Science: The Scoville Scale

Chile peppers are hot (or more accurately, piquant) to the extent that they contain ‘capsaicin,’ a chemical compound that stimulates chemical-neuro receptors in the skin and more especially mucous membranes of the body.

Wilbur Scoville’s original (1912) method for rating chile peppers was to dilute a solution of the pepper extract with sugar water until the “heat” is no longer detectable on the tongues of a panel of (usually five) tasters. The degree of dilution determines a chile’s score on the Scoville scale. Higher the dilution necessary, the hotter the pepper.

A sweet pepper or a bell pepper, contains no capsaicin at all, and so has a Scoville rating of zero, meaning no heat detectable, even undiluted.

Conversely, the hottest chiles, such as habaneros, have a rating of 200,000 and more, indicating that their extract has to be diluted at least 200,000-fold before the capsaicin present is undetectable.

A jalapeno pepper, depending on where it’s grown will be somewhere between 2,500-8000. Cayenne is 30,000-50,000. Whereas pure capsaicin, not found in nature, is, well, 15,000,000-16,000,000. Just for comparison.

From this, I deduced that when a dish gets out of hand, sugar/sweetness is the key to bring it back into the fold. I tried this first with salsas, using habanero peppers that I grew here in Vermont.

Habaneros?

Because we got plenty of rain, these particular habaneros were not nearly so hot as a desert plant, but still, it was gutsy to think I could tame them. A little knowledge is a dangerous thing. Habaneros are really hot, but they also have a decidedly smokey flavor that is just wonderful, if you can dial back the heat enough to taste them.

When that experiment worked (discarding the seeds and veins, mincing the pepper fruit, sautéing it in olive oil, adding some sugar, dried apricots, chopped fresh mango, cilantro, parsley, and chopped Roma tomatoes), I lost my fear – though not my respect – for hot peppers.

Remember: latex gloves. I brushed the hair off my forehead and later saw the red trail that my gloved finger traced when I passed by a mirror in the house thirty minutes later. Take care with these puppies, even the dried ones.

So, armed with my sweet little fire extinguishing knowledge, I came home with several kinds of dried Mexican chile pods.

This is their story.

First Up: Toasting v. Soaking Dried Chiles

At first, following someone’s directions, something that is quite rare for me, (see my song on this site, “Don’t Obey,” for reference), I poured hot water over a few dried chiles, and waited. They do reconstitute after awhile, some (guajillos) have tougher skins and take a good deal longer than others, but they do soften up.

Donning latex gloves, I took a knife to them and removed the white veins and seeds, where a startling portion of the chile’s fire resides. This is a messy job and I found myself removing a good part of the inner fruit of the chiles along with the veins and seeds, something that ran counter to my instincts about preserving flavor.

By the next time I reached for the chiles, I had read that one could dry toast the pods in a heavy skillet. The thought of adding flavor by toasting them seemed like an eminently fine idea. I toast raw spice pods to make curries.

So, at this point, still intent on soaking them later, I scattered a few dried chiles in one of my cast iron frying pans over low heat and watched them. And smelled them. When you do this, move them around some, turn them over: burnt is bad, toasted is good.

Turning them over with my hands, I realized that the heat was relaxing the peppers. They were pliant, not brittle, as they warmed. I wondered if I might clean the seeds and veins out of them after the toasting, skip soaking them and avoid the mess and the loss of inner fruit I’d experienced before.

This is exactly what I did.

I have not soaked a chile since. It’s still a good idea to wear latex gloves, though, especially if you wear contact lenses. The voice of experience, here. We don’t all have to make the same mistakes, right?

Which Chiles?

You will find a variety of names, sometimes for the same chile. Jalapenos become Chipotle when they’re dried and smoked. And if they were red Jalapenos, rather than green when they were smoked they become Moritas. The ancho chile – a broad, dark, raisin-y dried chile pepper with a tame Scoville rating of 500-1000 units, is wrongly called a ‘Pasilla,’ in California. They seem to have similar flavors, but a true Pasilla chile is 5-7 inches long and skinny. You’ll find good guides to these peppers on the internet, or in any good cook book on Mexican foods.

I have been regularly using:

Ancho Chiles Wrongly labeled in the photo as ‘Pasilla’ (sigh…see above note), these smell fruity and wonderful with a distinct raisin like wrinkle and smell. They are not particularly spicy, even for the faint of heart and three or four of them find their ways into lots of sauces.

Chipotle & Morita Chiles Smoked green and red jalapenos, respectively, these are interchangeable. The Chipotle (green) chiles are a little hotter. The Morita, a bit tamer. Both supply a wonderfully smokey quality to whatever dish includes them.

[**I recently tossed one into a bunch of sautéing Vidalia onions, added a couple of cut up apples and put the pork roast I’d browned in the pan back in, burying it in the apples. I covered this and put it in a very slow oven (240 degrees, F) and left it alone for a few hours. The savory apples that resulted were stunning. The Chipotle was just perfectly moderated by the sweetness of the apples and the apples were appropriately smoked up and spicy.]

Guajillo Chiles These are shiny, smooth-skinned, burnt red to reddish brown in color. They are widely available and are hotter than the more tame Ancho chiles.

Proportions?

Typically, I’ve been using three or four Ancho; two or three Chipotle or Morita Chiles; and two Guajillo chiles. This provides rich and interesting flavors and a heat index that can easily be moderated for even the tenderest Northern palettes.

Dried Chiles in a White Sauce: Once toasted, deveined and seeded, I have reduced chile mixes like these in a half a bottle of reasonably dry Chardonnay, adding the balance of the bottle as it cooks along, less a glass or two for the cook. Then pureed this with an immersion blender (one of my very favorite sauce tools), and add either a puree of caramelized onions or heavy cream (or a little of both) to thicken it into a sauce for roasted vegetables, meat or fish.

This particular sauce was not at all hot in the mouth. We were all enjoying our first bites over chicken breasts and asparagus with considerable relish, when perhaps ten minutes into the meal, we were all mopping sweat off our our foreheads. This is a part of the beauty of these chiles. Their heat often appears from inside the body, not necessarily inside the mouth. It is a wonderful, stealthy trait that continues to delight me.

Mexican Chile Barbecue Dry Rub:

Toast until pliant, devein and seed:

4 dried Ancho Chile pods

2 dried Guajillo Chile pods

3 dried Morita Chile pods

Break the pods up into pieces and place in a food processor with a chopping blade.
Add a couple tablespoons of strong instant espresso. I used the ‘Cafe Bustelo’ brand.

Grind this up into a fine powder.

Add and then blend together:

1 – 1-1/2 c. Brown sugar.

How?

I brine the pork ribs for a couple hours in a standard brine (proportions: 2 qt. water, 1 cup kosher salt, 1/3- 1/2 c. sugar) with the juice of a lemon squeezed into it, rinds added.

Then I drained them, discarding the brine and drying off the racks with paper towels.

Food Safety Note: I always keep a very close eye on where raw meat has been in the kitchen. I have yet to let unwanted bacteria loose on my friends and family. (Knock on wood.) I keep a spray bottle of weak bleach-water handy, use hot soapy water liberally, and sometimes wear latex gloves to protect my hands as I’m handling the meat. Brines, marinades, and such are either carefully discarded, or in the case of flavorful marinades, heated to well above the 160 degrees F for five minutes or so, to make sure the little buggers expire. You can’t tell if they’re there or not by sight or smell, necessarily, so best to treat all raw meant as contaminated and behave accordingly.

I spread a couple layers of plastic wrap long enough to fully wrap the racks on a clean cutting board. Spreading some of the dry rub with brown sugar, dried chile and coffee dust prepared above, I lay the rack on it and begin to massage it in to both sides of the meat, paying special attention to the meatier side, but making sure there is some on both sides.

I wrap these up tight and put them in a non-reactive high-sided baking pan and move on to the other racks, using up all the dry rub and the meat together. Fully wrapped and seasoned, I put these in the fridge overnight. You could leave them longer if you think that far ahead. Being a touring musician, today and tomorrow are about it for my innate sense of time. No yesterday. No next week. Everything else is written down somewhere.

I smoked these at between 180-250 degrees on our charcoal grill/smoker, with a pan of water underneath them, coals and fire to the side, for about three hours, basting them regularly with the marinade that wept off the meat overnight (that had been brought up to a boil for a few minutes to kill of the bad bugs).

These ribs, my first attempt, were stunning.

I’m writing about them so I won’t forget what I’ve done, or when I do, I can be aimed back here to remember. A part of making it up as you go along is forgetting how to repeat dishes. Barb wanted the blog, I think, so she can gently remind me of the dishes here and get some fairly close approximation, accepting on the spot variations as a part of my temperament.

Dried chiles are turning up in groceries all over the nation, following latino workers and immigrants into the heart of even remote rural farm regions around the country. I encourage you to get some and start playing with them in your kitchen. You will be delighted with their murkiness, smoke, and flavors. Asking advice, you might also make new friends among our Latino companions. After all, not many Anglos are buying these ingredients. Be the first on your block….

Best wishes,

s.

One Sunday evening in early May, while preparing to perform in the schools of this Rochester, NY region, I literally stumbled upon the chock full parking lot of the Yard of Ale restaurant.

A full parking lot out in the middle of nowhere is a fine recommendation for a restaurant. I pulled into the lot and joined the other patrons inside. The dishes I walked past looked hand made, interesting, well-proportioned.

The special that caught my eye that evening was a Chipotle-Bourbon Pork Chop with crispy onions, garlic mashed potatoes, beans and summer squash.

I started the meal with a local beer and an optional caesar salad (a real caesar salad, by the way: anchovies obvious in the dressing and optional on the salad itself…the best caesar salad I’ve had in years).

The chop was spectacular. Done medium, moist with grill marks (not easy to do in a busy restaurant), with a lovely balance of smokey chipotle and sweet bourbon. The green beans and squash were toothsome and brightly colored. The garlic mashed potatoes were actually made from real garlic and real mashed potatoes.

Followed by good coffee and a reasonable bill, this is a place to put on your own internal map and hunt down if you’re in the area. It was friendly, relatively quiet, as establishments that are in old homes and inns usually are (small rooms and hall spaces). And in just unlikely enough a spot to be a wonderful surprise to the traveler.

Tell Brian and Ed I sent you.

Chef Brian Simmons

Brian grew up in Nunda, NY, son of Patricia and Dennis Simmons. He first started working in restaurants as a dishwasher at the age of 15, at State Street Station in Nunda. He attended SUNY Morrisville and earned an Associates degree in 2000 in Restaurant Management and Culinary Arts. While there he fell in love with the profession and excelled more than he had anticipated. During his second year in the program, he began working part-time, mostly during breaks, at the Yard of Ale. He gained increasing responsibility over the years, eventually becoming Chef. His dedication to the restaurant has only grown since then, along with his continuing passion for creating unique, eclectic dishes from fresh, high-quality food.

Brian’s greatest culinary influence has been Chef Bobby Flay, whose hearty and bold All-American dishes have inspired him for years.

He and his wife, Liz, live in Piffard with a brand new addition to the family; Audrey Josephine.

Ed Simandl

A native of Long Island, Ed has spent more than 30 years in the restaurant business. He came to the area years ago to attend SUNY Geneseo. After graduating, Ed stayed and later worked in many local restaurants, from the Beachcomber to Knickers. He was the food and beverage manager at the Holiday Inn for 8 years before selling liquor and wine for the past 26 years. Ed recently became partner in running the Yard of Ale with long time friend Brian in August 2007. Ed’s cooking abilities cross many cuisines, but his true love is in Cajun style, featuring the blackening of chicken, meats and seafood.

Brian Simmons, Chef
Ed Simandl
Yard of Ale/Canal House Inn
3226 Genesee Street, Rte 63
Piffard, NY 14533
585-243-3380
www.theyardofale.com

I toss these in with green beans or roasted asparagus;  chop them up with roma tomatoes and fresh herbs to put on fish, chicken or pork; lay them on top of baked meats of all kinds, toss them into soups or pasta dishes. I’ve been thinking about combining them with calamata olives and dried cranberries (but it’s going to be pretty salty)….

I gave little jars of these away for Christmas. They can survive outside the refrigerator for a week or so without suffering, but should be refrigerated after mailing. The bright red color mixed in is difficult to resist.

Here’s how it’s done:

Plunge 12 Lemons in boiling water, drain, rinse and wipe lemons clean.
Dry them and slice very thin, discarding the ends and removing the seeds.

Mince and combine 5 shallots, 6 garlic cloves.
Mix 2/3 c. kosher salt and 1/3 c. sugar.

[I often put red peppers and red pepper flakes in with the herbs. Haven't used shallots yet. A few hot peppers never hurt.]

In the bottom of a french canning jar or other non-reactive container with a top:
Arrange a layer of lemon slices, sprinkle with garlic and shallots mixture and then some salt/sugar mix. Repeat, layering until the final slices are topped with the last of the sugar and salt mixture. Colicchio suggests at this point to cover and refrigerate.

But, I press down the slices with a jar until the juice rises to the top and leave it out for three or four days at cool room temperature and then refrigerate. You can use these after three or four days, or cover them with olive oil and keep them in the fridge for months. They are bright, lemony, mellow rather than acid, and a magnificent ingredient with which to toy.

Let me know how you fare with these.

Cheers and peace to your kitchen,

s.

The fortieth anniversary of the murder of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. I performed at his memorial service in our high school with the first black teacher I had ever seen, Winfield Pate. He played piano, I played guitar. We sang “I Shall Not Be Moved.”

Preliminaries:

Buy shrimp in the shell. the shells are loaded with flavor. This is true for bones in meat and fowl, too. Clean the shrimp and save the shells, freeze them to make stock later, or roast them and then boil them to make a flavorful sauce for the dish. It takes a little longer, but what’s your rush? You want fast food?

Here’s how the trouble started:

On this early spring – in Vermont, late winter – evening, I was facing:

• a bunch of fresh asparagus (which had briefly fallen below $2.99 a pound)
• some broccoli crowns
• a red pepper
• a red onion
• a can of yellow corn kernels
• some light cream, this side of its expiration date
• about a pound and a half of shrimp

and some:

• fresh garlic
• fresh ginger
• hot pepper flakes
• fresh grated nutmeg
• smoked salt (marvelous ingredient, a gift from Robert Resnik)
• fresh ground black pepper
• dried hot red pepper flakes
• Jamaican Jerk seasoning powder
• Thai sweet-hot chili sauce (my own)

I set the corn to drain over a bowl, reserving the liquid for stock, and started cleaning and cutting the red onion and red pepper up into roughly corn kernel sized pieces.

I cleaned the broccoli and split the florets and cut it and the asparagus into about 1.5 inch length (roughly shrimp-sized) pieces.

I shelled the shrimp, saving the shells, and minced five or six cloves of garlic (I keep trying to put too much garlic into a dish – only done it once) and a bunch of fresh ginger root, and combined the shrimp, garlic, ginger and some smoked salt and black pepper in a bowl.

At this point, a little sherry wouldn’t have hurt, or some white wine, but I had neither. Not for me, you understand, but to splash on the shrimp.

Cooking I:

With all the ingredients prepared, heat up a pan or two.

I started heating up a large, heavy cast iron frying pan to receive the onions, red peppers and corn kernels.

And a medium-sized sauce pan to roast the shrimp shells.

Once the pans reach temperature, toss in a small pad of butter to brown and once it’s browned, add olive oil. [More oil to the saucepan for roasting the shrimp shells; less oil to the frying pan for the onion/pepper/corn mixture.]

Adding oil too soon stops the butter from developing that nice nutty flavor, so don’t rush this part. You’ll miss out on the flavor.

The onion/pepper/corn mixture should be cooked at a high temperature in a fairly dry pan, tossing and moving the pieces around frequently. A little blackening benefits both the corn and the red pepper; too much oil or liquid will cause them to sauté rather than roast and develop a little char.

Meanwhile, the shrimp shells go in the saucepan with a bit more oil, and should be moved around as they brown. This browning intensifies the flavors in the shells and makes a huge difference in the broth you’re building. Once they’ve browned a bit, you’ll want to remove the pan from the heat and let it cool off a bit, stirring the shells now and then to make sure they don’t burn with the residual heat. Once cooled, add a fair number of slices of fresh ginger, the Jamaican Jerk seasoning powder. Cover with the liquid drained off the corn kernels and a couple cups of water to the shells and return the pan to the heat.

Bring the roasted shells, et al, to a boil uncovered and simmer for ten or fifteen minutes, then cover them and let them rest as long as you can. When ready, you’ll strain out the shells for your compost pile and save the liquid for the broth. Let it cool a bit and add some light cream to this. Set it on low heat and grate some fresh nutmeg into the combined corn and shrimp shell liquid. [This will fool your guests into thinking there is bacon in the dish. I swear.] Stir the broth now and then to keep a skin from forming. Don’t boil it.

Cooking II:

When the onion/pepper/corn mixture is sparsely flecked with charred places and well-roasted, remove it to a larger sauce pan or stock pot. [This will, of course happen in the middle of your dealing with the shells. The shells can wait; won’t hurt them a bit.]

Bring the heat down a bit, rebutter with a small pad, add oil again as above, and when it’s at temperature, add the split broccoli florets and asparagus. Toss them and cover them with a stock pot lid. After a few moments, lift up the edge of the lid and spray some water under it with your handy kitchen spray bottle, trapping the steam under the lid. Let it cook for a minute or two. Check the color and do it again. When it’s bright green and softened just a bit, turn it out of the pan, adding it to the onion/pepper/corn mixture, which becomes the onion/pepper/corn/broccoli/ asparagus mixture. Scheez.

Bring the heat down a bit, rebutter with a small pad, add oil again as above, and when it’s at temperature, add the shrimp/garlic/ginger/smoked salt mixture. Grind some black pepper over it and toss in a few hot red pepper flakes for good measure.

Cook the shrimp mixture moving it constantly just until they start to go translucent, then turn them into a large sauce pan or stock pot with the onion/pepper/corn/broccoli/asparagus mixture.

Assembly:

Now, that big, heavy cast iron frying pan has been busy: roasting corn, red peppers and onions, the broccoli and asparagus, and finally the garlic/ginger/shrimp mixture. It would be a shame to let the intense flavors that are stuck to the bottom of that pan be washed down the sink. A damn shame, really. So:

Keeping that frying pan hot, pour the corn-shrimp shell-cream broth into the frying pan and make sure it gets hot, but not boiling. With a wooden spoon, stir any bits off the bottom of the pan into the broth. Add some Thai sweet-hot chili sauce, if you like heat.

Just this side of a boil, add the garlic/ginger/shrimp/onion/pepper/corn/broccoli/ asparagus mixture. Give it a quick stir. If the shrimp are really under done, you can let this sit for a minute, but not much longer. Those puppies overcook in a heartbeat and get tough as a sneaker. Serve it.

Next Day?

I bought a bunch of watercress, washed it, cut it in half crosswise and wilted it as I gently reheated the chowder. It was at this point that Barb wanted to photograph it.

Then, as we were finishing lunch she gently suggested that I should write about it for the blog. And, not receiving a response, she offered to put the blog back up on the site, if I’d write about it…

So, there you have it.