24 September 2007

Fig Salad Redo



My fondness for figs is no secret. But I was turned onto their pairing with cheese and cured meat at Fraîche in Culver City where they do an appetizer of fresh figs, burrata, and speck. Above is my version with prosciutto.

Jamie Oliver has a similar fig salad, but with fresh mozzarella—which he calls the "easiest, sexiest salad in the world". I like to use his plating style of weaving the meat around the figs, as well as scoring the figs in his fashion, sectioning them, but slicing through them.

Sometimes I add a bed of arugula when I want to give the salad more mass, as when I made it for a casual patio party at S. and D.'s pad. Drizzle olive oil and balsamic vinegar; and sprinkle salt, black pepper, and basil; and you're good to go. Other times I do without the extra greens, as when I made a single serving for myself last week.



But regardless of how you do it up, you can't go wrong with fresh figs--they're a fabulous fruit.

Labels: , , ,

20 September 2007

From the Garden to the Dinner Table

I live most my life with no desire to grow things—I don’t even have a potted plant. But that doesn’t mean I don’t experience some pleasure from the good earth. There’s something life affirming and grounding about picking fruits and vegetables from a garden that even the urban girl that I am is not unmoved. Even if the garden I’m referring to isn’t mine and I gave no sweat in producing its bounty—it’s my dad’s garden—I still gladly take from it and I am thankfully for it.

One evening's reaping:

Bunches of herbs—mint, rosemary, sage, thyme, basil, and oregano
Bucket of tomatoes, many varieties, all shapes, sizes, and colors
One large cucumber
Three small eggplants
Three small ears of corn
And a quart of blackberries from a bush that grows wild on the edge of the garden

Picking stuff is fun, but it’s in the kitchen were the real fun begins for me as cooking becomes creation when I look at all I’ve gathered and decide what to make.

The cucumbers become a salad; the corn and tomato combine into another; the eggplant goes into a vegetable stew with more tomatoes and a squash plucked earlier; and the blackberries make a dessert. Mashed Potatoes around out my dinner menu with lamb as the entrée; and herbs get used wherever they can.



The cucumber salad was inspired by Jamie Oliver, from his third cookbook, Happy Days with the Naked Chef. I made my own dressing with ginger, rice wine vinegar, sesame oil, soy sauce, salt, and pepper; and omitted the cilantro with the cucumbers, but I’m giving his recipe in full as a reference.



The corn and tomato salad was my doing, although I’m sure it’s been done before. Boiled corn was cut from their ears and tossed with fresh (mostly) cherry tomatoes; chopped mint and basil also got thrown in. The dressing was your basic balsamic vinaigrette: olive oil, balsamic vinegar, touch of fresh lemon juice, salt, and pepper.



My mashed potatoes are nothing special, although I prefer a combination of milk and buttermilk verse other creams—sour cream, heavy cream etc…. I also like to use white pepper for cosmetic reasons, but grabbed the pepper grinder by force of habit so I had to live the black specks.



The lamb recipe came from the September issue of Bon Appetite and its article on Gordon Ramsey. I used it as guide, following the directions but substituting ingredients as I wished. The herbs on the crust for the lamb became sage, rosemary, mint, and thyme. The recipe specified English mustard, but I used French mustard instead because it was in the fridge—a Brit might reel at this switch, but I’m not British.

But regardless of my lack of addition to its details, I would say this recipe is winner—and a keeper for me. The crust was very flavorful and seasoned the lamb perfectly. This was my first time making lamb. On the whole I think it turned out well; and although I would have liked the meat to be a little pinker than it was, it was still wonderfully tender with a texture like butter.



I was going off of memory of Tyler’s Ultimate Ratatouille for my stew. Some people can make amazing ratatouille: I’m not one of those people. Ratatouille is supposed to be a wonderful stew where the flavors meld together, evoking warmth and comfort—yes I saw “the rat movie.” But mine don’t seem to workout that way and invariably fall in that no man’s land of mush that’s midway between a stew and soup. It happened again here. And while the end result passes as food, it won’t make anyone breakdown in tears, recalling their childhood.

My ratatouille was a garden “dump”: yellow squash; purple and white eggplants; tomatoes of all kinds; and herbs by the palms-full. But unfortunately, I once again cooked it ‘til it was a pulpy mess.



I would call this a cobbler, but the recipe says it’s a grunt. Whatever, it’s still good; but how can you go wrong with any warm dessert topped with ice cream.

In the end, it's all still about getting food on the table, but it's nice when you can go out to your backyard and pick it, too.

_______


Japanese Cucumber Salad with Ginger, Cilantro, Mint and Rice Wine Vinegar Dressing

Serves 4

Wash 3 cucumbers and finely slice along their length with a mandolin or one of cheap old potato peelers. Place the strips on a plate and spread them out. Sprinkle with some ripped-up fresh mint and cilantro and drizzle generously with ginger and rice wine vinegar dressing

Ginger and Rice Wine Vinegar

6 tablespoons of olive oil
3 tablespoons rice wine vinegar
1 teaspoon sugar
1 large thumb-size piece of ginger, peeled and finely grated
1 stick of lemongrass, outer leaves removed, inner ones finely chopped
sea salt, ground black pepper, and a little soy sauce

Mixed everything in a bowl and seasoned to taste

Cheese and Herb Crusted Rack of Lamb

6 Servings

2 ¼ cups fresh breadcrumbs made from crust-less sourdough bread
1 ¼ cups freshly grated Parmesan cheese
6 tablespoons chopped fresh mint
6 tablespoons chopped fresh Italian parsley
2 tablespoon chopped fresh thyme
2 ½ tablespoon olive oil, divided

3 1 ¾ to 2-lbs racks of lamb, most fat trimmed
3 tablespoon prepared English mustard

Combine first 5 ingredients in processor. Blend until herbs are finely chopped. Transfer crumb mixture to bowl; season with salt and pepper. Drizzle 1 ½ tablespoons oil over; toss to coat.

Using sharp knife, make diagonal cuts in fat side of 1 lamb rack, spacing lines 1-inch apart. Make cuts in opposite direction, forming diamond pattern. Repeat with remaining lamb rack. Heat 1 tablespoon of oil in heavy large skillet over high heat. Sprinkle lamb with salt and pepper. Place 1 lamb rack, scored side down, in skillet. Cook until golden, about 5 minutes; transfer to work surface. Repeat with remaining lamb racks. Spread scored side of each rack with 1-tablespoon mustard, than coat with 1/3 of crumb mixture, pressing to adhere. Place on rimmed baking sheet.

Preheat over to 425˚F. Roast lamb until golden and thermometer inserted into center of lamb registers 135˚F for medium-rare, about 40 minutes. Let stand 10 minutes. Cut racks into chops.

The Ultimate Ratatouille

1/3 cup plus 1/2 cup extra-virgin olive oil
1 pound smallish Italian eggplant, cut into 1-inch cubes
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 pound zucchini, cut crosswise into 1-inch sections
3 anchovy fillets, finely minced
2 onions, finely chopped
3 garlic cloves, finely chopped
1/4 cup chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
Leaves from 1/2 bunch fresh basil, coarsely chopped
Leaves from 4 fresh thyme sprigs
2 pints cherry tomatoes
1 dried chile
Splash balsamic vinegar

Line a large platter with paper towels. Heat 1/3 cup olive oil in a medium saucepan over medium heat. Add the eggplant, season generously with salt and pepper, and let that cook down for 10 to 12 minutes, until the eggplant is nice and soft and wilted. Move the eggplant out of the pan and onto the platter to drain. Next stop, zucchini: cook it the same way in 1/4 cup oil, then add it to the platter with the eggplant.

Add another 1/4 cup olive oil to the pan, then the anchovies, onions, garlic and herbs. Cook for 5 to 7 minutes, until the onions get nice and caramelized. Add the tomatoes and cook that down for 10 to 12 minutes, until pulpy. Return the eggplant and zucchini to the pan, crack open the chile, and add that, too. Season with salt and pepper and let the ratatouille cook slowly for about 20 minutes, until the mixture is soft, mushy and juicy; you want all the flavors to come together. Stir in the vinegar and let cool to room temperature.

Blueberry Molasses Grunt

Serves 6 to 8

Filling
3 cups ripe blueberries, picked over, or frozen blueberries, thawed
½ cup sugar
¼ teaspoon ground cinnamon
pinch of freshly grated nutmeg
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
2 teaspoons unsulphured molasses

Topping
1 ¼ cups all-purpose flour
1 ½ teaspoons baking powder
¼ teaspoon salt
5 tablespoons could unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
½ whole milk
1 large egg, lightly beaten

Step 1: Preheat the oven to 375˚F. Butter a 9-inch deep-dish pie pan.

Step 2: To make the filling: Place the berries in the pie pan. Whisk together the sugar, cinnamon, and nutmeg in a small bowl and sprinkle over the berries. Drizzle with lemon juice and molasses.

Step 3: Bake for 7 minutes, or until the berries begin to release their juices. Remove the pan from the oven and increase the oven temperature to 425˚F.

Step 4: To make the topping: Whisk together the flour, baking powder, and salt in a medium bowl. Cut in the butter with a pastry blender or 2 knives used scissors-fashion until the butter resembles coarse crumbs. Stir in the milk and egg with a fork just until well combined. Drop the dough by the tablespoonful over the center of the berries: it won’t cover them completely.

Step 5: Bake for 20 minutes, or until the berries are bubbling and the topping is browned. Serve hot, warm, or cold.

Labels: , , , , ,

19 September 2007

Positively Perfervid for Pix

Q: What is the name of your favorite dessert shop?

BP: Pix Pâtisserie

Q: Why?

BP: Because in another life or alternate universe where I’m a pastry chef, Pix would be the kind of desert shop my cooler, hipper self would open.

But in this life and universe, I visit Pix whenever I’m in Portland. It’s a charming place with an alternative edge. Its aesthetic is decidedly offbeat: shabby chic and vintage with a nod to something vaguely French (a la Moulin Rouge) and a touch of grunge thrown in for good measure—Anthropology meets Urban Outfitters.

While the décor is determinedly different, the desserts are routinely good—exceptionally so. I come for the pastries first and foremost and I’ve never been disappointed with anything I’ve gotten so far. I don’t have a go-to dessert at Pix because I see something new that I must try—and will invariably love.

This time around it was the Shazam, a towering confection of a single sheet of dark chocolate molded around a chocolate cake topped with caramel mousse. The name is a bit supercilious, but the cake does have a “wow” factor when you see in the dessert case—obviously, I couldn’t resist it. The caramel mousse had a rich, nutty flavor, but was still light on the tongue and the chocolate cake was a delicate sponge. But the true joy of eating this cake was plunging my fork through its chocolate shell—the shell cracked and exposed the dessert’s soft, sweet insides.



I go crazy at Pix and usually order more than one dessert. This visit was no exception, and I also got the Aphrodite and Tart Ménage á Trois in keeping with that tradition. Now before you gasp at my gluttony I want to say I had company and all these desserts were shared.

If I were forced to pick a favorite dessert, it would be the Aphrodite: chocolate sponge cake and chocolate mousse with a dark cherry buried in its center. It’s chocolate at its most tempting. The moist cake and velvety mousse makes every bite easy work as it all melts in your mouth. The glitter powder is also a nice touch and makes the cake look flirty—all desserts at Pix have lovely flourishes.

Crème brulée sits on a pool of chocolate fudge in the Tart Ménage á Trois. The whole package is a happy mix of hard and soft. The sweet pastry crust gives texture and balances out the sweet chocolate filling. I also appreciate the chocolate ribbons on the custard that makes the tart seem like a present.

I would make Pix a regular hang out if I lived in Portland, but for now I’m a regular visitor.

P.S. Pix recently opened another location—eight months ago—on Hawthorne. Unlike its original location, this store makes miniature sizes of all their desserts. Along with being very cute, they are the perfect size for a nice, “light” treat. One can indulge one’s sweet tooth without worry of a sugar overload. After browsing in the two Powell Bookstore branches in the area, I popped in for a little, literally and figuratively, Crème Brulée

PIX SE
3402 SE Divison
Portland, OR 97202
Ph: 503-232-4407

PIX HAWTHORNE
3731 SE Hawthorne
Portland, OR 97214
Ph: 503-236-4760

There's also a third location which I've not been.

PIX NORTH
3901 D N. Williams
Portland, OR 97227
Ph: 503-282-6539

www.pixpatisserie.com

Labels: , ,

10 September 2007

Out to Lunch--In Portland

I'm taking a bite--a break--in Portland, OR. I'll be back in a week with food tales from the Rose City.

03 September 2007

Burn Baby Burn

Sometimes I can be a glutton for punishment. On one of the hottest days of summer, I couldn't resist the siren call of a Sichuan restaurant that my cousin, C.P., mention to me the day before, so I drove out to Monterey Park to meet her for there lunch.

One of the joys of Los Angeles, and there are nice things about living here even though I rail about the traffic daily to friends, is that not only can you get good Chinese food, but you can also get very specific, very authentic, good Chinese food: Cantonese, Hunan, Shanghainese etc....

Sichuan cusine is all about heat. It's a given the food will be fiery hot, either rolling with chili peppers, smothered in chili oil, or doused with chili flakes; and many times it has all three of these elements working over the meat, seafood, vegetable, or tofu.



So let the fireworks begin—Boiled Fish Slices in Hot Sauce or #1 on the menu. More precisely, it's fish fillets atop a bed, or mound since it's a huge serving bowl, of Napa Cabbage buried in garlicky hot sauce and topped with more dried, pepper flakes and cilantro. This is a classic Sichuan dish according to C.P. who was told by a classmate who's from China and appears to be in the know. The white fish was light and delicate in texture, but made bold in flavor by the chili oil and garlic. I was swooning from it's heady heat—fantastic.



Dish #2 for C.P. and I and dish #8 on the menu, Fried Chicken Cubes with Hot Pepper. The lightly breaded and fried chicken was a nice change of texture for me during lunch when our other dishes were braised or boiled. The chicken was light and crisp, and I pop these bits in my mouth between helpings of other dishes as a palate cleanser. My only comment is that I wished more of the chicken pieces were in bigger cubes so I could taste more of the meat with the coating—more popcorn size vs. broken kernels at the bottom of the bag.



Our dish #3 isn't on the menu, but you can order it anyway (and many customers do)—Eggplant braised in Chili Sauce. This dish had a wonderful acidity to it that cut through the heat and oil. Not being in the kitchen to see, I'm going to guess the eggplant got a good hit of thick black vinegar in its sauce.. This and the boiled fish were my two favorites on the table.



Our fourth and final dish was the Homely Bean Curd, or #80 on the menu. It was the least spicy of all the dishes even thought it was big bowl of tofu in garlic and chili sauce. It was certainly tasty, but didn't meet the high bar of stimulating heat and flavor set by the fish and eggplant earlier. I doubt I would order it again on another visit.

And I do plan on coming again. There's something wonderfully intoxicating about hot 'n spicy foods. It a stirring mix of pleasure and pain that leaves you begging for more; it's food you can not only taste, but also feel. Like the sensation of a lustful kiss that still linger after mouths have parted, your lips still tingling from the memory of the hotness that pass through them minutes before.

If you can take the heat and want to feel the burn, then try Chung King Restaurant. They make it hot 'til it hurts so good.


Chung King Restaurant
206 South Garfield Ave.
Monterey Park, CA 91754
Phone: (626) 280-7430

Labels: ,