you might not recognize me.
I can’t believe I’ve waited this long to post when such big things have developed in the clatter universe in the last few days. It’s hard to imagine that I’ve left many of my readers in the dark when a transformation beyond your imagination has occurred. Drum roll please…................
clatter has gone VEGAN!
Did you gasp? Shriek? Throw your laptop out the window? Lose all faith in yours truly? I’m sure your reaction wasn’t nearly as dramatic as I would hope (I’d sure be flattered if you sent me a bill for your computer replacement), but I still have little doubt that at least some of you are taken a little by surprise. After all, how can a girl who loves to talk and write about, and yes, sometimes even eat all types of food suddenly go from her meat and cheese-centric existence to animal and dairy-free living? Well, as the child of one who claims I’m not afraid to try anything, I wasn’t about to ignore my curiosity (and slight boredom) tugging at me to give veganism a shot, even if only for a couple of weeks.
I really never gave a second thought to veganism over the years, except for the occasional sneering (“Who’s crazy enough to give up cheese voluntarily?”) and celebrity associations (whatever happened to Alicia Silverstone?), but since moving to Portland, I feel like the word VEGAN and all of its constituents keep popping up everywhere. Of course I’m residing in a place where devoted bicycle-riding, Birkenstock-wearing folks run the show, so the vegan presence is to be expected, but even so, the signs seemed to be everywhere. So I decided that instead of making fun of the granola lifestyle, I could learn a thing or two from it in one of the cities that knows it best.
Like any new adventure, I knew I needed to do my homework before I could take on such a challenge. After perusing the shelves at the Hollywood branch of the Multnomah County Library earlier in the week, I grabbed a stack of vegan cookbooks and headed to the checkout. I wasn’t standing there 30 seconds before the older man behind me struck up a conversation. “Oh, are you a vegan?” he asked me. Without enough time to decide how I wanted to approach his inquiry, I stumbled over my words and ended up muttering something about doing an experiment. “Ohhh, I see. Are you a chef?” Geez, am I that transparent? “Not exactly…” I replied, again, unprepared to answer. He ended up telling me about a great vegan place close by, what I should order, and how I’d probably see him there for lunch, as he frequents the place three to four days a week. Who needs Yelp when you can receive unsolicited restaurant recommendations while at your local library?
Beyond the books I checked out, I also did some internet research to clear up a few questions I still had about the vegan philosophy. Funnily enough, upon reading about The Great Honey Conundrum (who knew it was such a point of contention?), I came across a whole series of articles from an Oregonian food writer who recently did a similar month-long vegan challenge. And so, for the record (once again) take note that I am not trying to steal someone else’s idea and pretend like it’s my own. However, the idea and motivation behind this challenge was purely conjured up on my own and the fact that Portland’s own Grant Butler has written about veganism this year is coincidental. Promise. I only wish I had the discipline and tenacity (oh, and the time) to write about it daily like him. I suppose it'd also be nice to be getting paid to do it...
My kitchen well-stocked with various beans, lentils, grains, and soy products, along with lots of fruits and vegetables, fast forward to what is now Day Three of the challenge and just know this: not only am I still alive, but I feel great (cue Flashdance’s "What a Feeling")! I’m wondering how long my elation and enthusiasm for my healthiest. eating. ever. will last, but I’m going to [soy] milk this feeling for as long as I possibly can. These next couple of weeks will test my willpower and culinary creativity like I’ve never known, so be sure to stay tuned. Things could get interesting.
Friday, May 28, 2010
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Kitchen CLOSED
Ahhhhhhh…. The feet are up, the tea is steeping, and I am slouched on the couch with the laptop in, well, my lap. This feels good. Really good. With the floor mopped, the microwave wiped, the stove scrubbed, the fridge organized, the grout cleaned, the sink bleached, the dish towels and apron spinning in the washer, and the stand mixer detailed, the clatter kitchen is now closed until further notice. (Ok, I didn’t clean the grout, but the rest really is true.) After spending the last five of seven days baking countless hours for an event clatter’s affiliate, Delectables (or is it that clatter is Delectables’ affiliate? – I guess it doesn’t matter since it’s the same girl), had this morning, the kitchen needed a good scrubbing and Allison could use a vacation. Tonight’s dinner might consist of wine and microwave popcorn.
Well, turns out it’s exhausting to balance two careers - lawyer by day, baker by night. I learned this week that trying to handle everything myself when baking for a crowd of 300 in a kitchen apartment with one small oven and limited freezer space while having another full-time job can be a challenge (I had to call in my associate – my mother – to handle some of the load). I also learned that trying to make as many of those multiple step, complicated desserts I’ve been wanting to try when I have limited time and resources is not always the best idea. I still had a blast this week, and aside from the two minor floods in the kitchen yesterday (not the most convenient time for my dishwasher to give out) and pissing off my downstairs neighbor (again) for playing my music too loudly, the preparation, execution, and reception of the desserts went without a hitch. As an added bonus, I didn’t burn myself once all week. I still can’t believe it.
With all the time I spent writing briefs in the office, schmoozing with lawyers outside the office, and baking in the kitchen this week, naturally I started thinking about what it would be like if I switched careers entirely – to give up a life in law for a life in the kitchen. Of course, when making any major life decision, it’s important to weigh the advantages and disadvantages. So, I’ve come up with a few considerations of my own. This is certainly not an exhaustive list. Heck, I’m only getting started!
PROS:
1) The baker's attire doesn't require ironing or dry cleaning. Apron or business suit? This is a no-brainer.
2) The baker sees the results of her hard work, from raw ingredients to finished product, within hours.
3) Did you hear about that baker with the greedy/seedy/slimy/sleazy/dirty reputation? Yeah, me either.
4) The baker loves what she does. So does the lawyer…but it’s the exception, not the rule.
CONS:
1) The lawyer bills her client for one hour of work what the baker receives for days’ worth of labor.
2) The baker suffers from achy legs/feet/back and risks life and limb with occupational hazards such as high temperatures, sharp tools, and sophisticated appliances.
3) The baker lacks intellectual stimulation and legitimate excuses to make arguments for the sake of making arguments.
4) The lawyer can show off the prestige and sophistication that comes from her higher education and corporate experience.
Of course this list is all in good fun (as speaking in absolutes and stereotypes often is) and maybe I’m not quite ready to take the plunge (I’d say to the dark side, but I guess I’m already there), but it’s still tempting sometimes to throw pragmatism - and my well-earned, expensive education - out the window to work in the kitchen. I think for now though, I’m just going to look forward to my future, unpredictable and full of possibilities. I’m looking forward to that glass of wine tonight too.
Well, turns out it’s exhausting to balance two careers - lawyer by day, baker by night. I learned this week that trying to handle everything myself when baking for a crowd of 300 in a kitchen apartment with one small oven and limited freezer space while having another full-time job can be a challenge (I had to call in my associate – my mother – to handle some of the load). I also learned that trying to make as many of those multiple step, complicated desserts I’ve been wanting to try when I have limited time and resources is not always the best idea. I still had a blast this week, and aside from the two minor floods in the kitchen yesterday (not the most convenient time for my dishwasher to give out) and pissing off my downstairs neighbor (again) for playing my music too loudly, the preparation, execution, and reception of the desserts went without a hitch. As an added bonus, I didn’t burn myself once all week. I still can’t believe it.
With all the time I spent writing briefs in the office, schmoozing with lawyers outside the office, and baking in the kitchen this week, naturally I started thinking about what it would be like if I switched careers entirely – to give up a life in law for a life in the kitchen. Of course, when making any major life decision, it’s important to weigh the advantages and disadvantages. So, I’ve come up with a few considerations of my own. This is certainly not an exhaustive list. Heck, I’m only getting started!
PROS:
1) The baker's attire doesn't require ironing or dry cleaning. Apron or business suit? This is a no-brainer.
2) The baker sees the results of her hard work, from raw ingredients to finished product, within hours.
3) Did you hear about that baker with the greedy/seedy/slimy/sleazy/dirty reputation? Yeah, me either.
4) The baker loves what she does. So does the lawyer…but it’s the exception, not the rule.
CONS:
1) The lawyer bills her client for one hour of work what the baker receives for days’ worth of labor.
2) The baker suffers from achy legs/feet/back and risks life and limb with occupational hazards such as high temperatures, sharp tools, and sophisticated appliances.
3) The baker lacks intellectual stimulation and legitimate excuses to make arguments for the sake of making arguments.
4) The lawyer can show off the prestige and sophistication that comes from her higher education and corporate experience.
Of course this list is all in good fun (as speaking in absolutes and stereotypes often is) and maybe I’m not quite ready to take the plunge (I’d say to the dark side, but I guess I’m already there), but it’s still tempting sometimes to throw pragmatism - and my well-earned, expensive education - out the window to work in the kitchen. I think for now though, I’m just going to look forward to my future, unpredictable and full of possibilities. I’m looking forward to that glass of wine tonight too.
Monday, May 17, 2010
It's Just Another Organic Monday
I’ve had the Bangles’ famous song playing in my head all day, although using the word “manic” really doesn’t even do my day justice. (This is where I could probably use some choice expletives in addition to manic to describe my day, but clatter is a family-friendly blog.) Despite the crap I dealt with today, I knew that there was a glimmer of hope, a light at the end of the tunnel, a diamond in the rough (ok, you get the picture) once I got home. Most people are excited to leave the office after an exhausting Monday to come home to their spouse, their kids, their dog, or maybe just their nightly programmed guilty pleasure (cough cough, Gossip Girl), but tonight, there was only one thing waiting at home for me: my Organics to You box. For two Mondays a month, that brown box full of fresh, organic fruits and vegetables, mostly local, sits outside my apartment door until I arrive home from work (and if any of the klepto hobos collecting cans in our building’s recycle bin had any sense, the box probably wouldn’t still be there). Opening that box feels like Christmas morning for an enthusiastic (synonymously obsessive) cook like myself, and today I took extra pleasure in breaking the box’s seal to peer inside for its contents. For fear of boring you with the list, I will only invite you to visit the OTY website to see the complete list of produce I received this week: http://organicstoyou.org/. The clatter kitchen receives the bin for one and is especially excited about the uncharted territory it will be embarking upon with the fava beans from this week’s box...
Anyway, I would call OTY is an affordable luxury. It’s certainly not a bargain when you break it down price per item, but the fun of receiving a box full of unknown fruits and vegetables delivered right to your door makes it totally worth the money. I’ll admit I was skeptical at first of the concept. I always thought online grocery shopping was a crock, mostly because I don’t trust anyone but myself (and a few highly skilled individuals) to pick out my produce. Produce selection is a delicate and mindful process, and I take pride and a strange amount of joy in doing it myself. Yes, I am that dawdling girl who spends 10 minutes knocking on watermelons at Fred Meyer or smelling pineapples at Costco (clatter might even have a reader who could attest to my uncanny ability to detect the best of the bunch.) I used to make fun of the annoying Inas and Marthas of the world who revel in how gorgeous or luscious the produce at some market stand is, but I find myself slowly but surely, for better or for worse, morphing into one of them. So with that in mind, you can understand why I didn’t want that certain blissful experience of picking my produce to be eliminated from my world. However, after jumping on the OTY train (thank you, sister - enjoy that free bin for the referral!) I realized that even more delight can be found in the surprise of not knowing which produce you’ll get. (I even resist the temptation of checking the weekly list online as to not ruin the fun.) In the mere three boxes I have now received, I’ve noticed that OTY does a decent job of including “normal” fruits and veggies, along with a few “weird” ones, i.e. the ones that clatter gets most excited about. Not only does it force a growing cook like myself to use new ingredients, but if you’re lucky, you dear readers might learn something too.
As great as OTY is, inevitably you’ll find yourself devouring the greatest produce right away and leaving the less desirable ones in the fridge or on the counter until you’re forced to timely get creative or be delinquently wasteful. Well, I’ll admit that two weeks later, I still have a few of the poor unfortunate souls still left in the kitchen from my last box. Despite its dull, rough skin in desperate need of a good exfoliant (or a trip to the dermatologist), the sprouting potatoes on my counter were still good for something – and I had just the future for them tonight: homemade gnocchi.
I had a couple of sources to choose from for assistance with this challenge, but I ultimately decided to consult the one and only MSCS (if you’ve forgotten what that stands for, it’s probably because I haven’t referenced it enough yet). I love how MSCS describes potato gnocchi as “one of the small triumphs of the Italian kitchen.” Luckily for me today, it won’t take much! That said, after reading the instructions, I had a mini freak out because I realized that neither the ricer or the food mill, the two tool options Martha suggests to prepare the potatoes’ future marriage with the flour and egg, have a home in the clatter kitchen. Since the book specifically forbids the use of a food processor because the potatoes “will turn into a gluey mess”, it appeared that my yet-to-be-created gnocchi was S.O.L. Not to fear though, because clatter improvised and only broke the rules a little.
Like other homemade pastas and some yeast breads, gnocchi is not necessarily difficult to make, but it's definitely a process. Tonight it was a very therapeutic one for me. I’ll skip all the steps in how I made it, and I’ll just leave you with this: clatter was quite pleased with the results.
In addition to using the old potatoes, to make room for all my new produce from today’s box, I also had some swiss chard still chillin’ in the fridge. I thought I was completely ingenious to have come up with a swiss chard pesto to eat with my homemade gnocchi, but after googling it, I found out I’m not really a brilliant innovator after all. Even so, I didn’t even look at the recipe that Google found and did it my way, so I’m still calling it my own. Take that, Veg Box (whatever/whoever the heck you are)!
AR’s swiss chard pesto – makes about 1 1/2 cups
bunch of swiss chard, stems trimmed
2 cloves of garlic
10-12 raw almonds
fresh lemon juice
generous amount of ground black pepper & kosher salt
1/4ish cup of olive oil
1/4 cup grated parmesan
There may be a better process in pesto making, but for me, I just threw everything in my food processor and ran it through with the olive oil, adding ingredients as I saw fit. You should do the same. Serve with freshly made gnocchi, topped off with more freshly ground pepper and grated parmesan. Mmmmm!
Gnocchi may be but a small triumph in the Italian kitchen, but tonight it felt much bigger than that in the clatter kitchen. And thank goodness for that - I needed this one.
Anyway, I would call OTY is an affordable luxury. It’s certainly not a bargain when you break it down price per item, but the fun of receiving a box full of unknown fruits and vegetables delivered right to your door makes it totally worth the money. I’ll admit I was skeptical at first of the concept. I always thought online grocery shopping was a crock, mostly because I don’t trust anyone but myself (and a few highly skilled individuals) to pick out my produce. Produce selection is a delicate and mindful process, and I take pride and a strange amount of joy in doing it myself. Yes, I am that dawdling girl who spends 10 minutes knocking on watermelons at Fred Meyer or smelling pineapples at Costco (clatter might even have a reader who could attest to my uncanny ability to detect the best of the bunch.) I used to make fun of the annoying Inas and Marthas of the world who revel in how gorgeous or luscious the produce at some market stand is, but I find myself slowly but surely, for better or for worse, morphing into one of them. So with that in mind, you can understand why I didn’t want that certain blissful experience of picking my produce to be eliminated from my world. However, after jumping on the OTY train (thank you, sister - enjoy that free bin for the referral!) I realized that even more delight can be found in the surprise of not knowing which produce you’ll get. (I even resist the temptation of checking the weekly list online as to not ruin the fun.) In the mere three boxes I have now received, I’ve noticed that OTY does a decent job of including “normal” fruits and veggies, along with a few “weird” ones, i.e. the ones that clatter gets most excited about. Not only does it force a growing cook like myself to use new ingredients, but if you’re lucky, you dear readers might learn something too.
As great as OTY is, inevitably you’ll find yourself devouring the greatest produce right away and leaving the less desirable ones in the fridge or on the counter until you’re forced to timely get creative or be delinquently wasteful. Well, I’ll admit that two weeks later, I still have a few of the poor unfortunate souls still left in the kitchen from my last box. Despite its dull, rough skin in desperate need of a good exfoliant (or a trip to the dermatologist), the sprouting potatoes on my counter were still good for something – and I had just the future for them tonight: homemade gnocchi.
I had a couple of sources to choose from for assistance with this challenge, but I ultimately decided to consult the one and only MSCS (if you’ve forgotten what that stands for, it’s probably because I haven’t referenced it enough yet). I love how MSCS describes potato gnocchi as “one of the small triumphs of the Italian kitchen.” Luckily for me today, it won’t take much! That said, after reading the instructions, I had a mini freak out because I realized that neither the ricer or the food mill, the two tool options Martha suggests to prepare the potatoes’ future marriage with the flour and egg, have a home in the clatter kitchen. Since the book specifically forbids the use of a food processor because the potatoes “will turn into a gluey mess”, it appeared that my yet-to-be-created gnocchi was S.O.L. Not to fear though, because clatter improvised and only broke the rules a little.
Like other homemade pastas and some yeast breads, gnocchi is not necessarily difficult to make, but it's definitely a process. Tonight it was a very therapeutic one for me. I’ll skip all the steps in how I made it, and I’ll just leave you with this: clatter was quite pleased with the results.
In addition to using the old potatoes, to make room for all my new produce from today’s box, I also had some swiss chard still chillin’ in the fridge. I thought I was completely ingenious to have come up with a swiss chard pesto to eat with my homemade gnocchi, but after googling it, I found out I’m not really a brilliant innovator after all. Even so, I didn’t even look at the recipe that Google found and did it my way, so I’m still calling it my own. Take that, Veg Box (whatever/whoever the heck you are)!
AR’s swiss chard pesto – makes about 1 1/2 cups
bunch of swiss chard, stems trimmed
2 cloves of garlic
10-12 raw almonds
fresh lemon juice
generous amount of ground black pepper & kosher salt
1/4ish cup of olive oil
1/4 cup grated parmesan
There may be a better process in pesto making, but for me, I just threw everything in my food processor and ran it through with the olive oil, adding ingredients as I saw fit. You should do the same. Serve with freshly made gnocchi, topped off with more freshly ground pepper and grated parmesan. Mmmmm!
Gnocchi may be but a small triumph in the Italian kitchen, but tonight it felt much bigger than that in the clatter kitchen. And thank goodness for that - I needed this one.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
The Mother Sauce
For lack of showering her with outlandish gifts, Hallmark cards, or overpriced flowers, I am posting today for my mother. Happy Mother’s Day from clatter! My mom and I had a conversation about the blog this past week, and she mentioned I should be posting three to four times a week. Ha! Maybe if I quit my day job! She might have been kidding, but it did get me thinking about clatter and how my combination of time shortage and garrulous propensities keep me from writing more often. So while I can’t promise to write more frequently, I will promise to write less today. Sorry - it’s the best I can do.
Besides this posting, my other contribution to the Mother’s Day celebration today was making brunch for three generations of mothers in my family. Since I’m not a mother myself, I got stuck working the event, along with my brother-in-law (the dynamic duo, back again, after our wildly successful Easter brunch). Of course, being “stuck” in the kitchen is precisely where I wanted to be, so there was no complaining on my end (except maybe for the aftermath of the kitchen disaster he and I created in the process). In case you were wondering, our brunch menu consisted of: spring salad with caramelized fennel, toasted almonds, and shaved parmesan, drizzled with a sherry-maple vinaigrette; open-faced croque monsieurs (or madames with a poached egg upon request), complete with smoked ham and prosciutto, topped with a gruyère/comté mornay sauce (quick lesson: this is the cheese variety of béchamel - one of the five MOTHER sauces of French cuisine); roasted red potatoes with thyme and fresh basil; and bellinis. Not bad, eh? Beats the Mother’s Day Brunch Special at IHOP anyway…
Feeling full and tired from the Mother’s Day celebration this morning, I retreated to my apartment balcony for a lazy afternoon of sipping on sun tea and reading. But once the sun went behind the clouds, I decided I would work the double shift and get back in the kitchen. Maybe I wanted an excuse to use that well-sought out ancho chili powder I bought last week, or experiment with possibilities for an upcoming catering event, but mostly, I had a hankering for something sweet and needed to do something about it, stat. I suppose I could have run down the street, flailing my arms like a crazy person until I caught up with the ice cream truck I faintly heard in the distance earlier today, but I’m still fairly new to the neighborhood and would prefer to make a more glowing impression on my neighbors if I can help it. So instead, I decided to try out Baked’s famous Spicy Brownies in my kitchen.
I’m sure the two guys behind the tiny Brooklyn bakery who created this brownie deserve all the attention they’ve received (they seem pretty well-humored and cool, after all), but having Oprah tell the world that they’ve created the best brownie she’s ever eaten certainly doesn’t hurt (now if only clatter could get that kind of publicity…). I’m pleased to admit that I heard about and was intrigued by Baked before the Oprah phenomenon, but it wasn’t until I saw their recipe in O magazine for the Spicy Brownie last year (http://www.oprah.com/food/The-Baked-Spicy-Brownie) that I knew I could bring Baked’s innovations into my own kitchen (subsequently I’ve tried out a couple of other recipes out of their cookbook). I’ve been holding onto this particular recipe until I could get my hands on some ancho chili powder. Now that I had, I wanted to finally put this alleged OMG-shrieking brownie to the test.
With a hint of cinnamon, dark chocolate, and that ancho chili powder, this brownie definitely creates a different kind of sensation in the mouth than your typical brownie. It’s good, but it lacks the kick I was expecting to make it worthy of its name. If/when I make these again, I’d definitely increase the amount of chili powder so that there’s no question that this brownie is indeed "spicy". I suppose my elimination of the ginger may have altered the flavor a little, but in my experience with the ginger + chocolate combination, it’s not the best idea (don’t get me started on my recipients’ reactions to MS’s chewy chocolate ginger cookies I made a couple of years ago). I’m sure Baked does something extra and top secret than their dumbed down version printed in O that make its Spicy Brownie really special, so I’ll be sure to visit the bakery next time I’m in NYC to see for myself (but because I want to go, not because Oprah told me to!). For now though, my chocolate craving has been fulfilled, and luckily for some unsuspecting co-workers, there might be a plate of brownies in the office kitchen tomorrow…
Besides this posting, my other contribution to the Mother’s Day celebration today was making brunch for three generations of mothers in my family. Since I’m not a mother myself, I got stuck working the event, along with my brother-in-law (the dynamic duo, back again, after our wildly successful Easter brunch). Of course, being “stuck” in the kitchen is precisely where I wanted to be, so there was no complaining on my end (except maybe for the aftermath of the kitchen disaster he and I created in the process). In case you were wondering, our brunch menu consisted of: spring salad with caramelized fennel, toasted almonds, and shaved parmesan, drizzled with a sherry-maple vinaigrette; open-faced croque monsieurs (or madames with a poached egg upon request), complete with smoked ham and prosciutto, topped with a gruyère/comté mornay sauce (quick lesson: this is the cheese variety of béchamel - one of the five MOTHER sauces of French cuisine); roasted red potatoes with thyme and fresh basil; and bellinis. Not bad, eh? Beats the Mother’s Day Brunch Special at IHOP anyway…
Feeling full and tired from the Mother’s Day celebration this morning, I retreated to my apartment balcony for a lazy afternoon of sipping on sun tea and reading. But once the sun went behind the clouds, I decided I would work the double shift and get back in the kitchen. Maybe I wanted an excuse to use that well-sought out ancho chili powder I bought last week, or experiment with possibilities for an upcoming catering event, but mostly, I had a hankering for something sweet and needed to do something about it, stat. I suppose I could have run down the street, flailing my arms like a crazy person until I caught up with the ice cream truck I faintly heard in the distance earlier today, but I’m still fairly new to the neighborhood and would prefer to make a more glowing impression on my neighbors if I can help it. So instead, I decided to try out Baked’s famous Spicy Brownies in my kitchen.
I’m sure the two guys behind the tiny Brooklyn bakery who created this brownie deserve all the attention they’ve received (they seem pretty well-humored and cool, after all), but having Oprah tell the world that they’ve created the best brownie she’s ever eaten certainly doesn’t hurt (now if only clatter could get that kind of publicity…). I’m pleased to admit that I heard about and was intrigued by Baked before the Oprah phenomenon, but it wasn’t until I saw their recipe in O magazine for the Spicy Brownie last year (http://www.oprah.com/food/The-Baked-Spicy-Brownie) that I knew I could bring Baked’s innovations into my own kitchen (subsequently I’ve tried out a couple of other recipes out of their cookbook). I’ve been holding onto this particular recipe until I could get my hands on some ancho chili powder. Now that I had, I wanted to finally put this alleged OMG-shrieking brownie to the test.
With a hint of cinnamon, dark chocolate, and that ancho chili powder, this brownie definitely creates a different kind of sensation in the mouth than your typical brownie. It’s good, but it lacks the kick I was expecting to make it worthy of its name. If/when I make these again, I’d definitely increase the amount of chili powder so that there’s no question that this brownie is indeed "spicy". I suppose my elimination of the ginger may have altered the flavor a little, but in my experience with the ginger + chocolate combination, it’s not the best idea (don’t get me started on my recipients’ reactions to MS’s chewy chocolate ginger cookies I made a couple of years ago). I’m sure Baked does something extra and top secret than their dumbed down version printed in O that make its Spicy Brownie really special, so I’ll be sure to visit the bakery next time I’m in NYC to see for myself (but because I want to go, not because Oprah told me to!). For now though, my chocolate craving has been fulfilled, and luckily for some unsuspecting co-workers, there might be a plate of brownies in the office kitchen tomorrow…
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
All I'm missing is the sombrero
I saw an old friend over the weekend who’s living in Los Angeles now, and that got me thinking about my ol’ days of breathing in that notorious thick, brown air while basking in that predictable 350-days-a-year sun years ago. Of course I have a great deal of fond memories from my college and post-college days in LA, but I can still say with the utmost confidence that the city is not one that I have missed even once since leaving it almost four years ago. While I’ve often wondered the same thing that Death Cab for Cutie sings about in its tirade of Los Angeles, perplexed with “why you'd want to live here” - the city does seem to have at least one redeeming quality: its Mexican food.
I may not have been a foodie or even remotely interested in food like I am now when I lived in LA, but I still knew good Mexican food when I tasted it, and it usually came from the shadiest of streets in the ghetto. You know the kind - those certain hole-in-the-wall establishments that have you scratching your head, wondering how the county health department could have possibly posted that “A” on the front door (answer: bribery by carne asada). As the rules of the game go, the scarier the place looks, the better the ethnic food tastes (and the worse indigestion you’ll experience). People love to throw the authentic word around (I’m just as guilty as the next person), and considering I’ve never crossed the southern border, I’m certainly no expert on authentic Mexican food. But I’ve got to have something to show for my six years in Los Angeles (besides a college degree from a top university, of course).
So I’m sure you’re not shocked by my subject du jour (or should I say de la semana). Today is Cinco de Mayo after all and I have to stay true to yet another favorite, seemingly American (this is where an otherwise political clatter would go off on topical Arizona legislation-related tangent) holiday. Who doesn’t want an excuse to overdose on a large bowl of guacamole and tortilla chips or imbibe an ice cold, salt-rimmed margarita? In my experience, it’s usually the whitest of folks with absolutely no connection to Mexico whatsoever who get the most excited about such a prospect. It’s possible I fall into such a category…
Tonight I decided to go the real Mexican food route, but I wasn’t sure how I would accomplish that. The first thing that popped into my head? Chorizo. Why that’s the first thing I thought of I’m not sure (Allison’s brain works in mysterious ways), but I decided I’d just go with it…and so I did. After doing a little research (are you noticing that clatter is starting to establish a pattern here?), I came across several recipes for the chorizo/potato combo. I was intrigued enough to try it and figured a taco with chorizo and potato was just unusual enough that I could call it authentic and easily get away with it. June’s issue of Food & Wine features it, calling it a “staff favorite” (how could it be bad?). So with that recipe in mind, I headed to Whole Foods after work once again.
My fishmonger friend was there again behind the meat counter, but this time he had his butcher hat on. After being extremely tempted to cheat and just buy chorizo to save myself some time tonight, I knew that clatter had to maintain its integrity and make it from scratch. So Mr. Fishmonger/Butcher cheerfully (albeit less chatty than last time) gave me my requested pound of ground pork, I grabbed a few other items (including ancho chile powder, thus ending an exhausting sixth month arduous search for such), and I was on my way.
For the most part, I followed the F&W recipe. Considering I’ve never made this before and didn't know what to expect, not to mention I was on that certain quest for authenticity, I probably shouldn’t have made any changes. But as always, I just couldn’t resist the temptation to up the ante. To follow F&W’s version, here it is: http://www.foodandwine.com/recipes/fresh-chorizo-and-potato-tacos. But if you want to see how clatter did it, please continue reading.
AR’s take on F&W’s Fresh Chorizo and Potato Tacos (I halved the recipe and still have tons of leftovers)
3 potatoes
1/2 pound of ground pork
2 teaspoons kosher salt
2 cloves of minced garlic
2 teaspoons paprika (I didn’t have sweet, so I used regular)
2 tablespoons chopped canned chipotle in adobo (I had never used these before…and WOW. It takes the smoky/spicy combination to a whole new level. Keep reading to find out what I did with the leftoever adobo...)
1/2 teaspoon ground coriander
1/2 teaspoon oregano
1 tablespoon cider vinegar (don’t worry, I was skeptical of this too – and had to plug my nose because it reeks)
vegetable oil
small corn tortillas
fresh tomatoes, chopped
cilantro (this becomes the “lettuce” of the taco, so pile it on - the more, the merrier)
lime wedges (but I ate mine sans because I forgot to buy one. Very upsetting.)
fresh salsa verde (I love green salsa…although I was slightly disappointed with the one I bought at WH today because it had too much onion)
anaheim pepper, sliced (this is a mild pepper, so you don’t even need to worry about avoiding the seeds)
Boil the potatoes in water and then simmer until soft enough to peel and coarsely mash. I got impatient and didn’t cook them long enough, so my mashed potatoes were VERY chunky. (Maybe that’s how they do it in Mexico??) Add all the spices and vinegar in a bowl with the pork and incorporate them into meat. You might think it’s gross to get down and dirty with it, but it’s just so much easier to use your hands. In a weird and sick sort of way, I think it’s fun to work ground meat through my fingers, but beware of the chipotle adobo staining your hands orange. Inhaling the fumes from the adobo may also cause mild to moderate discomfort. (These are the sort of things that F&W never seems to tell you.) Add the potatoes to your newly created chorizo.
Heat just enough oil to coat the pan. “Fry” the potato/meat combo until golden brown on medium high heat, flipping over occasionally. Warm tortillas and fill them with everything mentioned above. F&W didn’t do the tomatoes, green salsa, or the pepper, so this is where I diverted. Quite delicious I must say! Although the chorizo had a little bite, there just wasn’t quite enough spice to make me disturb my neighbors with cries of “My mouth is en fuego!”, so I decided to make a little side dish to change that…
I had a can of black beans already open in the fridge, so I added them to a saucepan with that extra adobo, and a little bit of water. I turned the heat on high until the beans softened and soaked in that incredible smokiness. Once cooked, I shredded some pepper jack cheese on top (I didn’t have any cheese on the tacos, so I had to get my cheese in somewhere!) until melted. Yowza – now that was spicy.
Well, another Cinco de Mayo has come and gone, and clatter did its best to honor the holiday. Who knows if I even got close to authenticity tonight, but I figure if my insides are still burning from all that spice come tomorrow morning, I’ve got to be on the right track.
I may not have been a foodie or even remotely interested in food like I am now when I lived in LA, but I still knew good Mexican food when I tasted it, and it usually came from the shadiest of streets in the ghetto. You know the kind - those certain hole-in-the-wall establishments that have you scratching your head, wondering how the county health department could have possibly posted that “A” on the front door (answer: bribery by carne asada). As the rules of the game go, the scarier the place looks, the better the ethnic food tastes (and the worse indigestion you’ll experience). People love to throw the authentic word around (I’m just as guilty as the next person), and considering I’ve never crossed the southern border, I’m certainly no expert on authentic Mexican food. But I’ve got to have something to show for my six years in Los Angeles (besides a college degree from a top university, of course).
So I’m sure you’re not shocked by my subject du jour (or should I say de la semana). Today is Cinco de Mayo after all and I have to stay true to yet another favorite, seemingly American (this is where an otherwise political clatter would go off on topical Arizona legislation-related tangent) holiday. Who doesn’t want an excuse to overdose on a large bowl of guacamole and tortilla chips or imbibe an ice cold, salt-rimmed margarita? In my experience, it’s usually the whitest of folks with absolutely no connection to Mexico whatsoever who get the most excited about such a prospect. It’s possible I fall into such a category…
Tonight I decided to go the real Mexican food route, but I wasn’t sure how I would accomplish that. The first thing that popped into my head? Chorizo. Why that’s the first thing I thought of I’m not sure (Allison’s brain works in mysterious ways), but I decided I’d just go with it…and so I did. After doing a little research (are you noticing that clatter is starting to establish a pattern here?), I came across several recipes for the chorizo/potato combo. I was intrigued enough to try it and figured a taco with chorizo and potato was just unusual enough that I could call it authentic and easily get away with it. June’s issue of Food & Wine features it, calling it a “staff favorite” (how could it be bad?). So with that recipe in mind, I headed to Whole Foods after work once again.
My fishmonger friend was there again behind the meat counter, but this time he had his butcher hat on. After being extremely tempted to cheat and just buy chorizo to save myself some time tonight, I knew that clatter had to maintain its integrity and make it from scratch. So Mr. Fishmonger/Butcher cheerfully (albeit less chatty than last time) gave me my requested pound of ground pork, I grabbed a few other items (including ancho chile powder, thus ending an exhausting sixth month arduous search for such), and I was on my way.
For the most part, I followed the F&W recipe. Considering I’ve never made this before and didn't know what to expect, not to mention I was on that certain quest for authenticity, I probably shouldn’t have made any changes. But as always, I just couldn’t resist the temptation to up the ante. To follow F&W’s version, here it is: http://www.foodandwine.com/recipes/fresh-chorizo-and-potato-tacos. But if you want to see how clatter did it, please continue reading.
AR’s take on F&W’s Fresh Chorizo and Potato Tacos (I halved the recipe and still have tons of leftovers)
3 potatoes
1/2 pound of ground pork
2 teaspoons kosher salt
2 cloves of minced garlic
2 teaspoons paprika (I didn’t have sweet, so I used regular)
2 tablespoons chopped canned chipotle in adobo (I had never used these before…and WOW. It takes the smoky/spicy combination to a whole new level. Keep reading to find out what I did with the leftoever adobo...)
1/2 teaspoon ground coriander
1/2 teaspoon oregano
1 tablespoon cider vinegar (don’t worry, I was skeptical of this too – and had to plug my nose because it reeks)
vegetable oil
small corn tortillas
fresh tomatoes, chopped
cilantro (this becomes the “lettuce” of the taco, so pile it on - the more, the merrier)
lime wedges (but I ate mine sans because I forgot to buy one. Very upsetting.)
fresh salsa verde (I love green salsa…although I was slightly disappointed with the one I bought at WH today because it had too much onion)
anaheim pepper, sliced (this is a mild pepper, so you don’t even need to worry about avoiding the seeds)
Boil the potatoes in water and then simmer until soft enough to peel and coarsely mash. I got impatient and didn’t cook them long enough, so my mashed potatoes were VERY chunky. (Maybe that’s how they do it in Mexico??) Add all the spices and vinegar in a bowl with the pork and incorporate them into meat. You might think it’s gross to get down and dirty with it, but it’s just so much easier to use your hands. In a weird and sick sort of way, I think it’s fun to work ground meat through my fingers, but beware of the chipotle adobo staining your hands orange. Inhaling the fumes from the adobo may also cause mild to moderate discomfort. (These are the sort of things that F&W never seems to tell you.) Add the potatoes to your newly created chorizo.
Heat just enough oil to coat the pan. “Fry” the potato/meat combo until golden brown on medium high heat, flipping over occasionally. Warm tortillas and fill them with everything mentioned above. F&W didn’t do the tomatoes, green salsa, or the pepper, so this is where I diverted. Quite delicious I must say! Although the chorizo had a little bite, there just wasn’t quite enough spice to make me disturb my neighbors with cries of “My mouth is en fuego!”, so I decided to make a little side dish to change that…
I had a can of black beans already open in the fridge, so I added them to a saucepan with that extra adobo, and a little bit of water. I turned the heat on high until the beans softened and soaked in that incredible smokiness. Once cooked, I shredded some pepper jack cheese on top (I didn’t have any cheese on the tacos, so I had to get my cheese in somewhere!) until melted. Yowza – now that was spicy.
Well, another Cinco de Mayo has come and gone, and clatter did its best to honor the holiday. Who knows if I even got close to authenticity tonight, but I figure if my insides are still burning from all that spice come tomorrow morning, I’ve got to be on the right track.
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