Ratatouille

Did anybody (or did everybody) see that Pixar movie, Ratatouille? It was surprisingly entertaining, especially if you are the sort of person who would read a food blog. Without trying to give away the ending, let it suffice to say that at some point in the movie, they make ratatouille. And their recipe looks really delicious, to the extent that computer animated food can look delicious. But I've made a few different ratatouille recipes in the last few years, and while they all look about as colorful and well-presented as the dish in the movie, they also end up tasting... well... a bit bland.

It is really unfortunate, because whenever I've served ratatouille, my guests tend to be really impressed with how beautiful the dish is, but then I notice that there is plenty left over once dinner is over. I suspected that there is more to this classic dish than just carefully overlapping colorful vegetables.



The thing that sparked my determination to try it again was a recent episode of Anthony Bourdain's No Reservations, where Bourdain goes to Provence, France. He attempts to treat his Provençal hosts to his own take on the local cuisine and one course that he serves is "ratatouille."

Now, quotation marks might be appropriate there because when the hosts come to the dinner, they tell Bourdain that he has made a very nice dish of vegetables, but that it is NOT ratatouille. So what is ratatouille? I have no idea really. The people of Provence surely reserve the right to discredit any American attempt. But there is someone that I trust who has graciously provided us with a fantastic ratatouille recipe that, if not authentically ratatouille, is at least not bland.



In fact, if this isn't ratatouille, then I don't really care because Julia Child's ratatouille is amazing! No, it's not a carefully presented stack of colorful veggies. It is more like a stir-fry really. And it is damn good.




Just in case a fantastic vegetable recipe isn't sufficient to keep your attention, I also made garlic aioli, another Provençal specialty that is basically garlic-bomb mayonnaise. If you think of garlic less as a seasoning and more as a food, then you're going to love this stuff. I ended up spreading some of it on my ratatouille, because the only thing better than enjoying your vegetables is enjoying your vegetables with some emulsified olive oil on them.

So, without further delay, I present my adaptation of Julia's ratatouille:

Ratatouille
Adapted from Mastering the Art of French Cooking, Vol. 1 by Julia Child, Louisette Bertholle, and Simone Beck

1 large eggplant
1 zucchini
2 tomatoes
2 green bell peppers
1 medium yellow onion
2 cloves of mashed garlic
3 Tbsp parsley
1 tsp salt
4 Tbsp olive oil

Peel the eggplant and cut it into pieces approximately the size and shape of steak fries. Slice the zucchini the same way. Toss the eggplant with salt and let stand for 30 minutes.

Saute the eggplant in olive oil for a minute on each side in order to brown lightly. Then remove the eggplant from the pan and put it in a dish off to the side. Saute the zucchini in the same manner as the eggplant. Remove the zucchini to the same side dish as the eggplant.

Slice the onion very thin, and slice the green pepper about a 1/2 inch thick. Cook the onion and pepper together in the pan with olive oil for about 10 minutes, until tender but not brown. Stir in the garlic towards the 8th or 9th minute.

Remove the inner seeds from the tomato so you just have the outer pulp. Slice the tomato pulps into 3/8 inch strips and lay them over the onions and peppers. Cover the pan and cook on low for 5-8 minutes until the tomatoes have begun to render their juice. Baste the tomatoes with the juices, using a baster or a spoon. Salt and pepper to taste.

Layer the tomato/onion/pepper mixture between layers of the eggplant zucchini mixture, starting and finishing with the tomato mixture in a casserole dish. Sprinkle minced parsley atop the tomato mixture.



Cover the casserole and bake for about 15 minutes, then uncover and bake for another 20 minutes. Baste occassionally. Julia's recipe actually calls for cooking the casserole on a stove, but because of the dish that I used, I ended up using the oven and it worked just fine. I think you can make due either way. You'll know its done when most of the juices have evaporate and become pure flavor in your veggies. Be sure to say something in French when serving.

Springing

The Lake has thawed. The Devils are about to begin their playoff run at the Stanley Cup, St. Patrick's day and Easter both came and went. Things are moving quickly folks.

For some reason that is surely related to John Jameson's life's work, I failed to take any pictures of the food that I made on St. Patrick's Day. That was really weak, I know. But, if you were there, you know that there was nothing weak about my Colcannon, which contained a 1/2 lb. of butter, and 1 lb. of bacon. Purely awesome, my friend.

Once spring gives way to summer, you'll probably notice that a lot of cooking expeditions mentioned on the site will change too. I do about as serious a BBQ as someone from New Jersey can do. I smoke ribs. I smoke shoulder. I've been smoking chicken since last year, and this year I'm thinking about smoking some fish.



In the mean time, I'm still pretty focused on perfecting my Chinese food. I could eat Chinese food just about everyday; there are over a billion people on earth who do! Ok, that was a lame joke. I admit it.



Anyway, I've got pictures. There is no guiding theme other than the fact that this is what I've cooked recently. I would give you the recipes, but frankly it's been so long since I made them that I barely remember what was in it.

The first picture at the top is of a tofu and vegetable stir-fry that came out really well. Tofu can be hard to make well, but I've found that using a REALLY hot pan, and getting a good crisp going on the outside does wonders. Also, pat the tofu dry before cooking, knucklehead!

The second picture is of a curry sole stew with sweet potatoes. I had a hell of a time getting the sweet potatoes to fully cook without murdering the fish into a mush, but I found a balance somewhat and it was pretty good.

The third picture is of zucchini mac and cheese with salted chopped chilies. In case you haven't heard, you need salted chopped chilies in your life. Here's how.



The picture immediately above this paragraph was of some noodles with ginger, garlic, and chopped leaks.

Ok, now to other big news. The beer is FINALLY done! Yes, you heard right, I tasted the beer today.



I have to say that it smelled absolutely wonderful. This is some of the toastiest, delicious smelling beer I've ever had. It's also a pretty good looking beer. My wife and son are both redheads, and it seems that my beer is a redhead too now. I don't mind that one bit. The taste is something else though. I made this beer with the intention of producing a hoppy batch of beer with a VERY high alcohol content. I wanted this beer to knock you on your ass. And it does. The beer is at least 10% alcohol. And it tastes like it too. It's a somewhat bitter, very intense flavored beer. The jury is still out on how well it'll age. It might mellow out a bit in the next few weeks and taste like the complex thing that it is.

All Apologies

Hi Everybody,

I recognize that it's been a while since I've written. Fellow law students will recognize the post-spring break, pre-finals period as the time in the semester when one has to get a handle on upcoming deadlines before the shit hits the fan. So, here we are. In an effort to keep the fan pristine (i.e. free of shit), I've had to take a blogging hiatus that, I hope, won't last too long.

Love,
Jim

Tofu Espagnole

Earlier in the week, I made a sauce for some fried tofu that came out really well. You might notice that, yes, there is indeed chicken in this. So... be warned. I only gave up eating solid pieces of meat for my Lenten fast. I didn't give up using broth for flavor.

Anyway, the sauce came out really well. It was full of flavor, warm, and thick. The thickness made the tofu and mushroom stick together to form almost a stew, which just about put the dish into the "comfort food" category because of its warmth and savoryness. The tofu itself held up really nicely to the sauce, not overdone, but cooked in oil for a sufficient period of time to brown the outside of the tofu and give it some texture. I generally find that ghost-white tofu in soup is OK, but I prefer my tofu to have some color on it if I'm serving it as a meal. Per usual, having homemade stock on hand was a must for this recipe. Anyway, enjoy. This dish made me forget about meat for a solid 5 hours.



Tofu Espagnole

Ingredients
14 oz. Package of Firm Tofu
2 Tbsp. Peanut oil
2 Tbsp. Butter
2 Tbsp. Flour
3 Cups Chicken Stock
1 Cup Baby Bella Mushrooms
1 or 2 Sprigs of Fresh Tyme
1/2 tsp Salt

You'll need a very large skillet for this recipe, or you can use two medium-large pans.

Heat oil in large skillet on high heat. While the pan is warming up, drain the tofu and pat dry with a paper towel. Cut the tofu into 1 inch by 2 inch by 1 inch rectangles. It is easiest to do this while keeping all of the pieces together in the same shape that they came in the package such that when you are finished cutting the tofu rectangles, they are all still neatly stacked together into one big rectangle.

Add the tofu to the pan, gently stirring every 3 minutes or so. The tofu should begin to brown on all sides. While the tofu is cooking, rinse, pat dry, and slice the mushrooms. When the tofu has browned on each side, add the mushrooms to the pan. Continue to stir, this time every minute or so.

When the mushrooms have begun to soften up and release their water, push the tofu and mushrooms all to one side of the pan, leaving as much room as possible on the other side for making the roux.

On the empty side of the pan, melt the butter in the pan, being careful to keep the butter all on the empty side of the pan and not mix with the tofu and mushrooms. Do not burn the butter! Once the butter is half or mostly melted, add the flour and mix with the butter until it forms a paste. Bring the paste closer to the middle of the pan and stir quickly until the paste darkens to a light to medium brownish color. Once your roux is brown, slowly add the stock and mix rapidly with the roux so that a brown sauce forms. Once the roux is fully incorporated into the stock, combine the tofu and mushrooms with the sauce. Turn the heat down and simmer the sauce, tofu, and mushrooms until the sauce is reduced by half. Shred the thyme with your fingers and add to the sauce while it is reducing. Add salt only at the end (since your sauce is reducing, early salting will just get concentrated later on). Serves 3-4.

Some Stale Bread

Well, the first batch of maple sap came in. Much of the bucket contained snow, despite it being mostly covered. But it seems to me like I had a decent amount of sap, about a gallon or so, and that I was on my way to making at least, like, two tablespoons worth of sap. Alas, another setback. Once I boiled off most of the sap, I had a maple syrup-like substance. It was sweet, with the sort of smoky rich flavor that real maple syrup has. But it also came with a shockingly bitter sort of flavor that really overpowered any good effects from the sweetness. It basically tasted like a combination of maple syrup and poison.



There's a pic of sap boiling off. Anyway, I've taken steps to better cover the spouts and will come back and check my containers on Friday for more sap. I did have a good time drinking beers with my grandfather while we tried to boil off the sap on his wood burning stove. It didn't boil much, but I had a few Long Trail IPAs that were really nice.

This past week, I made a few noteworthy dishes. Most of them are pretty basic. For instance, last night, I made some pea soup. Sorry, I'm not going to write out a pea soup recipe for you. Mine is pretty straightforward. Have a ham bone left over, buy some Goya split peas, soak 'em overnight, and follow the directions on the bag with the exception of bouillon cubes and flavor packets. Use your homemade broth dummy!

The croutons I threw onto my pea soup are worth expounding on, though. This is especially true since I've been making a lot of bread lately, and not all of it is great. So, as discussed previously, one of the things you can do with crappy old bread is make croutons with it. And it's really easy too. I used a food processor, but you really don't have to. If you have a garlic press, that would be helpful, but you could just chop the garlic and rosemary very finely.



Rosemary-Garlic Croutons

Ingredients
1 Tsbp. Chopped Rosemary
1 Clove Finely Chopped Garlic
1/4 Cup Extra Virgin Olive Oil
2 Cups of "Experienced" Bread, cut of shredded into crouton-sized bits.
1/2 tsp. salt

Notes: I don't generally condone cooking with extra virgin olive oil. The point at which extra virgin olive oil begins to smoke, chemically decompose, and lose its flavor and nutritional value is often lower than the temperature that it can reach while in a hot pan. This is called an oil's smoke point. But, our croutons aren't getting pan-fried or broiled, they are just going to soak up that oil, garlic, and rosemary flavor and get a bit of a crunch.

Preheat oven to 325 degrees. Mix oil, garlic, salt, and rosemary in a medium sized bowl. Use a food processor if possible, or just chop and mix with a spoon or fork. Add the bread and gently stir the bread so that it soaks up as much oil as possible. Spread the bread around on a flat surface. Discard any extra oil (or put it on your salad if you really love garlic and are in the sort of relationship where garlic breath won't be a dealbreaker). A baking sheet works best, but a casserole dish works too (just takes longer if the croutons are piled up). Put the mixture in the oven for 25-30 minutes. Stir if necessary halfway through. After 25 minutes, check to see how crunchy the bread got. It will vary depending on how stale the bread started out, how much oil it absorbed, the size and depth of the container, and whether you had to double stack the croutons. Give 'em another 5-10 minutes if need be.



Sorry I didn't take a picture of the final product. We were hungry! Besides, you know what croutons look like.

A Poached Pear, A Tapped Maple, and Some Momofuku-like Homecookin'

By now you might have recognized that I like to make things from scratch. So, the first of many announcements for today is that I tapped some maple trees at my grandfather's house this weekend. I've got my mom and grandfather recruited to the cause of homemade maple syrup, and will be back at the house to check on the trees sometime over this coming weekend. I don't have extremely high hopes for this project, but it seemed easy enough, and if it works, what a grand success! Of course, my Vermont-based family members have all made syrup before and are not at all impressed. But, the NJ crowd will surely be in awe when I douse my blueberries pancakes with syrup that's fresh from Lake Hopatcong.



In other news, you may find that many of my recipes over the next couple months are vegetarian or pescatarian in nature. I've given up meat for Lent, so there it is. I did it partially because I like to really challenge myself for Lent and give up something that is very dear to me. Additionally, I've been struggling to reconcile my love for the taste of animals with the ethical implications of supporting an industry that profits off of disease and torture. I'll kill animals and eat them, but that doesn't mean that I don't care about how they are treated.

Apparently David Chang of Momofuku fame agrees with me. He had something really interesting to say about sustainable meat in his new cookbook, which I got a chance to peruse over the weekend:

"Pigs have heads. Every one of them does. Farmers do not raise walking pork chops. If you're serious about your meat, you've got to grasp that concept. And if you're serious about sustainability and about honestly raised good meat-which is something we're dead serious about at Momofuku and we try to get more in touch with every day-you've got to embrace the whole pig.

A farm turns out a head on each beautiful, well-raised pig, but nobody's rushing eat it. That's where the cook steps in: you take it, cook it, make it delicious. That's the most badass way you can connect with what you cook: elevate it, honor it, lavish it with care and attention-whether you're slicing scallions or spooning out caviar or boiling up half a pig's head. Turning ingredients into food, and sometimes almost literally turning a pig's ear into a silk purse, is what cooks do in the kitchen" See Momofuku Cookbook, p. 201.

Chang goes on provide a recipe for "pig's head torchon" which looks nothing like a pig's head and sounds pretty amazing.

Speaking of Momofuku, I did make a Momofuku inspired ramen with shrimp, some scallions, and a slow-poached egg. The slow-poached egg concept is another thing I pulled out of that cookbook. Pretty cool. Basically, you put an egg in hot water, kept around 140 degrees or so for 40-45 minutes. Keep the egg off the bottom of the pot though to prevent overcooking. I put it in a metal vegetable steamer-type colander. Whenever you're ready, crack open the egg and you've got a perfect poached egg that is cooked whites and goey, beautiful yolk. Made me feel like a rock star when I tried it.



The shrimp ramen came out really, really good. I have become somewhat of a master broth maker, and this time I used a mixture of chicken broth that had also simmered with some mean-as-hell roasted Jamaican hot peppers, combined with some shrimp shell broth. It just made it extra-seafoody. You could try it with the shrimp broth or just regular broth.

And since we're sharing pictures. I took a picture of a super freak of a mushroom that was in the package of mushrooms that I bought from Whole Foods. It was too weird not to take a picture of it and share with you.



The recipe that I want to leave you with, though, actually comes from Anthony Bourdain's Les Halles Cookbook. It is really simple and, if presented well, an absolutely beautiful dessert. Did I mention that it's freaking delicious? Here it is:



Poached Pears
Adapted from Les Halles Cookbook

Ingredients
1 bottle of somewhat cheap red wine
1 cup of sugar
1 cinnamon stick
3 star anise pieces
4 pears, peeled and cut lengthwise

In a medium pot, combine wine, sugar, and spices. Bring to a boil, and let boil for 5-10 minutes. Add the pears, cover, and let simmer for about a half an hour or until the pears are soft and could be eaten with a spoon. Remove from heat, uncover, and let cool. Serve the pears with the sauce they were cooked in and/or with vanilla ice cream.

Serves 8 meager appetites, or 2-4 gavones.

Winter Root Stew

After our rich Saturday eating extravaganza, beginning with lunch at Les Halles (which is my new favorite restaurant by the way) and ending with dinner at Egan & Son's new location in West Orange, NJ, I figured I would make something less rich and more wholesome for Sunday dinner. Based on what I had left around from the food co-op, I decided to make a stew of various winter roots. My only concern was that it could end up being somewhat boring.

We've all made those dishes before where you know that it will be edible and you know that it will be more or less good for you, but you don't know if it will be exciting or something that you'll want more than a few bites of.

So, in the quest for flavor, I ended up using my chicken broth and about a pint of beer to give the stew a hearty, yet tasty flavor. Once that broth and beer mixture combined with the juices of the carrots, parsnips, onion, celery root, etc, it was pretty damn flavorful. I was also a little stumped on how to season it. I could toss in some maple syrup, maybe throw in some apples and cinnamon. I ended up with salt, pepper, some cinnamon and some nutmeg. Not too much though! The spices were subtle, which made it really nice. Boring, it was not. Although, it was interesting how the flavors of the root vegetables all seemed to blend together. It was difficult to tell whether you were eating a piece of turnip or a piece of celery root. It all sort of blended together into a delicious flavor; one that is sweet, but savory and evokes sitting by a nice warm fire on a cold winter day.



Next question was whether or not to add a meat. I happened to have a really nice piece of smoked Kielbasa that my upstairs neighbor gave me after a trip to the Polish butcher. I chopped into bite sized pieces and threw it in there. This way, there really wasn't enough meat to take over the thing and turn it into a meat stew. The Kielbasa just added a little something, turning the stew from a side dish to a main course. Vegetarians could totally go without the Kielbasa and substitute vegetable stock for the chicken stock. Carnivores can go crazy and throw in a slab of bacon-which I had considered, but decided against in light of the order by the Mrs. to "don't make anything rich". Another idea would be some beef to stew in with the veggies. You get the idea here. There is ample opportunity for improvisation.



Winter Root Stew

Ingredients
1 pint of dark beer (I used my homemade brown ale)
About 1 Quart Chicken Stock (can substitute with any stock, including vegetable)
1 onion, minced
3-6 cloves of garlic, minced
1 celery root
2 sweet potatoes
1 turnip
1 acorn squash
2 white potatoes
2 red potatoes
4 carrots
4 parsnips
1 Tbsp salt
1 Tbsp fresh ground pepper
1 tsp cinnamon
1 tsp nutmeg
2 Tbsp olive oil OR butter
1 Kielbasa sausage (or 1 lb of thick cut bacon)

Note: You'll want to use a dutch oven for this. If you don't have a dutch oven, you could just use a pot and keep it on the stove, although I liked not having to tend to it by putting it in the oven.

In a large dutch oven or large pot, warm the oil (or butter) on medium-low heat on the stovetop. While the pot is warming, mince your onion if it is not already minced. Add the onion and saute while mincing the garlic. Add the garlic and saute until golden brown. Pre-heat the oven to 325 degrees.

Chop the root vegetables into pieces approximately just small enough to fit onto a tablespoon. They will soften up after they are cooked and can be broken into bite-sized pieces with a spoon by the eater. Add the root vegetables to the pot. Next add the chicken stock and beer to the pot so that it just about covers the vegetables. Use as much stock as necessary to cover most of the vegetables.

Next, chop the kielbasa into spoon-sized pieces and add to the pot. Stir all of the contents of the pot around so as to mix them up and disperse the sausage throughout the pot. Now turn off the stovetop and put the pot into the oven for about an hour. Cooking time will vary depending on the size of the vegetables and amount of liquid added to the pot. Cook until the vegetables are soft and steamy. Add salt, pepper, cinnamon, and nutmeg after removing from the oven and then stir the contents again. If you do not have a dutch oven, simply the pot the on low heat, stirring occasionally for about an hour.

Serves 4-6


Don't forget to save any leftover broth from the pot. Freeze and add it to your next dish!