Archive for the ‘Food’ Category

The fact that I can’t remember a damn thing anymore has actually worked in my favor when it comes to getting recipe ideas from television. I can no longer get the exact ingredients down and so I wind up make stuff up as I go along. The end result: my own original take on a particular recipe.
A perfect example of that was a few months ago when I was watching Adam Richman’s Best Sandwich In America on the Travel Channel, which featured some of the most innovative sandwiches from around the country. I was particularly intrigued by the methods used by the folks at Faidley’s in Baltimore to make their famous crab cake sandwich. I jotted down what I thought they did (of course, they don’t reveal their recipe secrets) and I wound up creating the best crab cake I’ve ever made:
Alz Crab Cakes

1 pound crab meat
1/3 cup oyster crackers
1 teaspoon Old Bay seasoning
1/2 cup mayo/mustard blend

To make the mayo/mustard blend, combine 4 parts mayonnaise to 1 part mustard. You your favorite. I use Maiile Chablis mustard, but it’s only available in France. (See my previous blog about the Maille mustard shop in Paris.) However, Maille Dijon mustard is great, too. Set aside.

Take the oyster crackers and pulse them in a food processor until it resembles oatmeal…not too fine.

In a bowl, gently mix all the ingredients. With your hands, form small crab cake balls, like meatballs. Place on a tray lined with foil, and pop in the fridge for at least 15 minutes to set.
Heat oil in a pan to 375 degrees. Gently drop the crab cakes into the oil, and fry for only 10 to 15 seconds. Flip over, and fry 10 to 15 seconds more, just to form a light crust. Don’t over-fry or they will fall apart!

Drain crab cakes on paper towels and enjoy.

Any leftover mayo/mustard works great as a tartar dipping sauce, or a spread if you’re making a crab cake sandwich. Just finely chop some pickles, add a splash of Worcestershire and/or hot sauce, and mix with the mayo/mustard.

This recipe works equally well with a light, flaky fish, like cod. Combine mayo/mustard mix with Old Bay. Slather the fish in it, then roll the fish in the crumbs and fry in oil.

 

Don’t let the fact that your brain isn’t what it used to be get you down. Take advantage of it! You just might come up with an original recipe that blows the doors off anything you copy down word for word.

When you’ve had enough of Buffalo wings, try this Asian version. They are easy to make, and taste awesome. A nice change of pace from your usual wings. This recipe works well with larger chicken pieces, too.
Asian style chicken wings
10 lbs chicken wings, the larger the better
2 cups soy sauce
1 small can (6 oz) pineapple juice
1 cup brown sugar
1 tablespoon powdered onion
1 tablespoon granulated garlic
1 teaspoon Chinese five spice
a squirt of sesame oil
Salt and pepper
Mix all the marinade ingredients in a large Ziploc bag, shake to mix, and then add the chicken. Marinate in the fridge overnight, turning the bag once in a while to make sure everything gets an even coating of the marinade.
The next day, pour off the marinade and discard, remove chicken wings from the bag, place on a cookie sheet lined with foil, and bake at 325 degrees for about 30 minutes, until sizzling and done.

In the tradition of the Food Network’s extremely popular show “Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives,” I get a special thrill in discovering great old eating establishments while on the road.

One way to easily hunt down those local gems is by downloading an app like MapMuse on my iPhone, which tells me all of the locations of every joint featured on “Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives.”

So whenever I’m heading home to New York to see my family, I check the website out for the possibility of a fun eating experience along the way, not too far off I-95.

One time I made a stop in Westport, CT at the Black Duck Cafe, and chowed down on an amazing sauteed crawfish po-boy and Caesar salad, on the waterfront of this sleepy blue-collar town, the elevated highway directly above.

More recently, I stopped in New Haven, CT at the legendary Louis’ Lunch, established in 1895. With room for only 25 people, this tiny hot spot claims it is where the hamburger was invented. If you want a fancy burger, this is not the place. They serve ’em just a few ways: with cheese or without, with tomatoes and onions or without. All burgers are cooked medium-rare, and come on toasted white bread. No ketchup in the building. No salt and pepper. For sides: potato salad or chips. Some drinks. And that’s it!

Apparently, they don’t need to cater to the masses, because there’s always a line out the door, and the wait can be as long as 2 hours for a burger…and people gladly wait.

A fresh batch of burgers right out of the grill!

I was lucky: I got there on a Friday afternoon and missed the lunch rush, so I only had to wait a half-hour for my taste of history, still grilled in the funky-looking original gas-fired grills built back in the 1800’s.

The original grills at Louis’ Lunch: 9 burgers are cooked at a time, placed in a screen that holds them while they cook sideways.

In all honesty, it was not the best burger I’ve ever had…and I don’t know if I’d wait 2 hours for one. But it was a fun experience being there…watching others in line doing what I was doing: whipping out the phone and taking pictures of this legendary establishment…one that almost succumbed to the wrecking ball until the people of New Haven came to the aid of Louis’ Lunch and had it moved down the road to its current location.

At the counter: White plastic bags full of sliced bread await the toaster that sends them spinning around on a belt.
It just takes a couple of minutes off I-95 to get to Louis’ Lunch. Certainly more fun than stopping at some fast food joint. And a chance to taste a bit of  history.
It’s a mouthful…but man, is it good!
I think buttermilk is overlooked by most people. If you gave the average person a quart of buttermilk, they wouldn’t know what to do with it. Most people have heard of regular buttermilk pancakes, or maybe the process of soaking chicken in buttermilk before breading and frying…but that’s about it.
I grew up in a Lithuanian household where buttermilk, like many other dairy products, was an everyday ingredient. From something as simple as a bowl of cold buttermilk with fried potatoes on the side (one of my Dad’s favorites), to a cold summer borscht, my Mom found different ways to use buttermilk on a regular basis.
The term “buttermilk” actually refers to several different dairy drinks. Originally, buttermilk was the liquid left behind after churning butter out of cream. Buttermilk can also be quickly soured milk, a common drink in warmer climates. In colder climates, the souring process doesn’t occur naturally, but it is often encouraged, commonly by placing bread in the milk to make it go sour faster. (My Mom did this all the time, using Lithuanian bread, a dark rye-like bread.) And then there’s cultured buttermilk, which is what most of us find on supermarket store shelves today. This is milk that has had lactic acid bacteria introduced into it.
I loved the taste of buttermilk–still do. Just give me a cold bowl, sprinkle a little finishing salt in it, and I’m good. But for those who don’t want their buttermilk straight, here’s a recipe that will knock your socks off, and wouldn’t be the same without this great, misunderstood ingredient.
Blueberry cornmeal buttermilk pancakes with lemon zest
1 cup all-purpose flour
1 1/2 cups stoneground yellow cornmeal
2 Tablespoons sugar
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 cups buttermilk
2 teaspoons grated lemon zest
1 large egg
3 Tablespoons melted unsalted butter, slightly cooled
1–2 teaspoons vegetable oil
1 cup fresh or frozen blueberries, preferably wild, rinsed and dried
Whisk flour, corn meal, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and salt in a medium bowl
to combine.
In a separate bowl, whisk egg, lemon zest, and melted butter into buttermilk to combine.
Make a well in the center of the dry ingredients in the bowl. Pour in milk mixture and
whisk very gently until just combined. Do not over mix. A few lumps are OK.
Heat non-stick skillet over medium heat. Add 1 teaspoon oil and brush to coat skillet
bottom evenly. Pour 1/4 cup batter into 3 spots on skillet. Sprinkle 1 Tablespoon
blueberries over each pancake. Cook pancakes until large bubbles begin to appear,
about 1 1/2 to 2 minutes. Using thin, wide spatula, flip pancakes and cook until golden
brown on second side, 1 to 1 1/2 minutes longer.
Serve immediately.
Like hot dogs and Slim Jims, jerky is one of those “mystery meats” we love but don’t really know how it’s made or what part of the animal it comes from.
Really excellent beef jerky is a rare treat, and once you have it, you will never go back to that rancid, preservative-filled dog meat you find in a bag at the supermarket. And the best part is: it’s quite easy to make.
First, the meat: I like to shop around for a really good cut of London broil for my beef jerky. You can use cheaper cuts, but a nice, lean slab of London broil, sliced into 1/4″ pieces on a diagonal, against the grain, works really well. Remove all gristle and fat that may be on the meat before slicing.
Once you’ve done that, all you need to do is make the marinade, marinate the beef overnight, and then dry it the next day. It really is that easy.
Your final product will be a flavorful beef jerky that is so good, you’ll find it very hard to stop eating it…or to share it.
Marinated beef strips on the dehydrator.
Alz Beef Jerky
1 Tablespoon salt
1 1/2 Tablespoons granulated garlic
1 teaspoon black pepper
1 teaspoon fresh minced peeled ginger
2/3 cup brown sugar
1 cup Teriyaki sauce
1 cup soy sauce
8 lbs raw, lean beef, like London broil, cut into 1/4″ thick diagonal slices, against the grain of the meat
Mix all ingredients except meat in a large bowl. Place meat in a large Ziploc bag, pour marinade inside, seal, and refrigerate overnight. Squish the bag around once in a while, to make sure all meat surfaces make contact with the marinade. Keep the bag in a bowl to prevent any accidental spillage in your fridge!
The next day, pour off the marinade and discard. Using a food dehydrator or simply an oven at 140 degrees, dry the meat by laying strips on cookie sheets in a single layer. Drying could take several hours to half a day, depending on how dry and chewy you like your jerky.
Best you ever had!
Jerky stores really well in the freezer. I put small amounts into individual freezer bags, then place all of them in one large freezer bag. Thaw as needed.

SPICY SOY TUNA TACOS

Posted: October 23, 2012 in Food, spicy, taco, tuna
Tags: , , ,
Whenever I serve these tuna tacos to friends, I always get requests for the recipe. It requires a bit of setting up, but you can put it together right before serving to your guests…or yourself.

I prefer to use sushi grade tuna for this dish, which is easily found in small frozen “bricks” at Whole Foods or similar stores.

SPICY SOY MARINATED TUNA ON TACO CHIPS

Marinade…
6 Tablespoons soy sauce
1 teaspoon pepper oil
Topping…
¼ cup sour cream
1 Tablespoon fresh squeezed lime juice
Chopped fresh scallions
Other Ingredients…
½ lb sushi grade raw tuna, chopped into ¼-inch cubes
Tortilla chips
Finely chopped scallions

 
Assemble…
Make the Topping in a bowl first, and place in the fridge. Mix marinade ingredients in a separate bowl. Chop tuna into ¼-inch cubes, and marinate in soy/oil mix for just 10 minutes, then drain. Keep cold!

Just before serving, take a tortilla chip, place 1 Tablespoon of tuna on top, top this with ½ teaspoon sour cream mixture, and garnish with chopped scallions.

Eat these quickly, before the tuna makes the tortilla soggy!

 

It seems silly to travel all the way to Paris for a jar of mustard, but that’s exactly what we do. OK…we happen to be in Paris when we make the pilgrimage to the Maille mustard shop, but I couldn’t imagine a trip to the city of light without making the stop.
Back in 1747, Antoine Maille was known by many as the greatest mustard and vinegar maker of all time. He created the now-famous Maille Dijon Originale mustard in Dijon, France, and opened a shop in Paris to sell it. To this day, the company follows his strict guidelines to re-create that magic. The Maille company opened a second store, in Dijon, in 1845.

The supermarket stuff.

There are several varieties of Maille mustard available in most supermarkets here in the United States, but the one mustard you can’t get…is the one you really want!
When you visit the Maille Paris shop on place de la Madeleine, you’re surrounded by beautiful displays of colorful jars of mustard. But you need to focus on the mustard taps–yes, like beer taps–at the main counter, a long oak bar where fresh mustard (no preservatives, never more than 10 days old) is dispensed into ceramic jars that are filled, corked, and wrapped in tissue paper.
Our mustard of choice is the Mailles Chablis mustard, which is unlike anything I’ve ever been able to find here in the States. And though it is potent, it has a magical quality that I can’t even begin to describe.

How do I get one of these taps in my home?

While you’re standing in line for your mustard–and there is always a line–you can sample the three fresh mustards offered with a pretzel or a cracker. Aside from the Chablis mustard, there is also a grape juice and honey mustard, and a white wine mustard.
Despite the fact that they say the potency of the fresh Maille mustard doesn’t last more than a few months, it doesn’t stop my wife and me from buying enough to keep us happy until the next trip to Paris a few years later. The way I look at it, the less potent Chablis mustard is still better than anything I can find on a store shelf here at home.
It is a sad day indeed when I open the last jar of Maille mustard, look deep down inside, and see that there is nothing left…just a dry residue of crusty mustard. I put the jar down, and go directly to my computer to book the next possible trip to Paris!

Horseradish just doesn’t get the credit it deserves. A world without horseradish would mean boring Bloody Mary’s, cocktail sauces with no kick, and steaks and roast beef sandwiches just crying out for sauces and mayos with personality.

Horseradish is a perennial plant from the Brassicaceae family, which also includes mustard, wasabi, broccoli, and cabbage. It’s mainly grown for its white tapered root, which, when not disturbed, has little aroma. But when you cut or grate it, enzymes from the damaged plant cells release oils that give horseradish that wonderful pungent smell and flavor. It loses this pungency just as quickly, unless you store it in vinegar, which is why bottled or “prepared” horseradish is always found in a vinegar solution.

In the garden, horseradish can become invasive, meaning it will want to take over if you let it, but in my garden, it doesn’t get to do that because I regularly harvest a couple of roots for my kitchen.

 

Horseradish in the garden

Growing up in a Lithuanian family, there were very few spices ever used in cooking. Most of the food was pretty bland. Mom would salt food, but even black pepper was pretty rare. Peppers of any kind were never used–they never grew in Lithuania–so horseradish became the universal ingredient when a kick was needed. My grandfather loved it. I can still remember my grandfather crying his eyes out as he grated a freshly picked horseradish root from his garden. It was absolutely a labor of love. He would keep his grated horseradish in vinegar in the fridge, and then when dinner came around, it would quickly find its way to the table next to just about any meat my grandmother was cooking.

These days, with food processors in just about any kitchen, there’s no excuse not to use fresh horseradish. Your nasal passages and eyeballs are safe from being blown out.

Some of the basic applications for horseradish are still the best. The following recipes use prepared horseradish you easily find in the supermarket, but use fresh if you have it.

 

A freshly harvested horseradish root

For a simple horseradish mayo:

1/4 cup mayonnaise

2 Tablespoons prepared horseradish
Combine both ingredients in a bowl, cover with plastic, and refirgerate. Goes great on a roast beef sandwich.

 

For a fancier horseradish sauce that goes great on grilled salmon:

3/4 cup sour cream

1/4 cup mayonnaise

2 Tablespoons prepared horseradish

2 Tablespoons chopped fresh basil

1 Tablespoon fresh lemon juice

1 teaspoon soy sauce

Combine all ingredients in a bowl, cover with plastic, and place in fridge for a few hours for the flavors to blend.

 

 

Alz cocktail sauce

2 cups ketchup

4 Tablespoons prepared horseradish

1 Tablespoon fresh lemon juice

1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce

½ teaspoon Tabasco

5 grinds of fresh black pepper

¼ teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon vodka

Combine all ingredients. Store in a tight plastic container in the freezer. Thanks to the vodka, my cocktail sauce never freezes solid, so just scoop out what you need and let it thaw.


Sad to say, but despite the large Italian community we have here in Rhode Island, there is no truly excellent pizza to speak of. I suppose you could say “them’s fightin’ words!” but if it’s here, I haven’t found it yet.
So where is the excellent pizza? New York City, of course. OK…maybe I’m a bit prejudiced because I grew up there and worked in a variety of pizzerias in my younger days, but there is no doubt in my mind that if you want the best pizza (or bagel, for that matter), you have got to go to the Big Apple. Everything else is simply a bad copy.
It can be confusing in New York City as there are many different varieties of pizza to choose from, some much better than others. Brick oven pizzas abound, but there are pizza lovers who won’t settle for anything less than a pizza baked in a coal-fired oven. The extremely high heat of a coal-fired oven cooks the pizza in just a minute, and imparts a crusty, charred flavor you can’t get any other way. There are only about a dozen coal-fired pizzerias in Manhattan, and many of them have been around for over 100 years, so it’s definitely a matter of making a special trip to enjoy this style of pizza. (No new coal-fired pizzerias can be built in the city, due to more recent strict pollution control laws.)
There’s the traditional thin, round Neopolitan pie, and the thicker, square Sicilian pie. Regular mozzarella or mozzarella di bufala. Domestic or imported cheese?
Many choices, but always the same answer: it’s a matter of personal taste.
But when I heard through the pizza lovers’ grapevine that there was a “new” pizza out there, one that was gaining a cult following, I needed to know about it. And more importantly, I needed to taste it!
It’s called Pizza Montanara, and there are only a few pizzerias in New York City that serve it. The one I went to is called Pizzarte, on West 55th St, and I have to say that I have now discovered the ultimate pizza.
What makes Pizza Montanara so spectacular, quite simply, is that the dough is fried in oil before they put the sauce and cheese on it, and then it is baked in a wood burning oven. It is not greasy. In fact, the frying process, which lasts only a minute, puffs the dough up and creates a beautiful pillow-like softness that I have never experienced in a pizza before.
Pillowy goodness! Its rectangular shape is probably due to the fact that they fry it in a restaurant deep fryer.
The pizza was so good that once my wife and I ate the first pie, we ordered another. Then when it was time for us to drive home from New York, we stopped at Pizzarte and ordered two to go, which we devoured by the time we got to the Connecticut border!
The Montanara is a simple pizza margherita: dough, super-fresh tomato sauce, mozzarella di bufala, topped with a fresh basil leaf. But the frying process creates a magical treat that has got me drooling all over this blog as I write it.
It’s so good, that just a few days after returning from the city, I made my first attempt at creating a montanara pizza at home. My result: pretty successful! A little crunchier than Pizzarte’s montanara, but with a little tweaking, I may just get the hang of this thing!
A little rounder (I fried it in a pan) and I sprinkled oregano on top instead of the fresh basil leaf. But not a bad first attempt!
I’m going to back to Manhattan for Thanksgiving weekend, and pizza montanara is the first food on my list!
Fast food is a relative term. What we Americans think of as fast food is not what, say, the Italians think of as fast food. We think of drive-thru burger joints serving greasy, salty and fatty food. Swallow a burger, pop a Crestor. The Italians think fast food is something that simply doesn’t take all day to cook! If you can use the freshest of ingredients, and serve it in the time it takes to sip a half a bottle of wine while chatting with a friend, it’s fast food Italian-style.
Years ago, when my wife and I were visiting the island of Capri in Italy, one of the dishes we enjoyed was an incredibly simple pasta and tomato dish called spaghetti sciue-sciue (pronounced “shwee-shwee.”) We were told that sciue-sciue was loosely translated as “quick-quick,” although a check on the web said that it also translates to “improvisation” in Italian. And though quick it was (that is, by Italian standards), it was one of the most memorable dishes we had on our trip. It could be because of our surroundings: the famous Faraglioni rocks all around us at a small seaside restaurant called Da Luigi. We took the small shuttle boat from Marina Piccola, which made its way through those stacks jutting out of the Bay of Naples, and landed at this historic restaurant, built in 1936. People come here not only to dine, but to spend the day sunbathing and swimming.
So the reason Da Luigi’s sciue-sciue was so amazing certainly was, in part, the location…but it was also very much due to the use of the freshest and best possible ingredients…and they didn’t mess around with them too much.
With the growing season coming to a close here in New England, there’s still a chance to get some beautiful ripe tomatoes at local farmstands for this recipe. This version of spaghetti sciue-sciue, our own home-made twist on what we had in Italy, absolutely takes advantage of what’s left of the season!

The ingredients. Yes, so I used lo-carb pasta!

OUR PASTA SCIUE-SCIUE
Ingredients:
1 small can (6 oz) tomato paste
½ cup extra virgin olive oil
2 hot Italian dried peppers, finely chopped
¼ cup white wine
8 to 10 chopped plum or cherry tomatoes (as ripe as possible)
12 to 15 torn fresh basil leaves
½ stick (4 oz) unsalted butter
1 ball of fresh mozzarella
1 lb of spaghetti, or better yet, bucatini
Sea salt
Fleur de Sel (optional)
Heat a large pot of salted water to boil the pasta in.
Almost burn—as in “heavily caramelize”—the tomato paste in a large pan with the olive oil, salt, and the dried peppers. Add the white wine to de-glaze, and simmer until reduced by half.
Add the chopped tomatoes and simmer on medium heat until they start to break apart. Hand tear the mozzarella ball into shreds and add to the sauce, stirring gently. Add the basil.
Add the butter, gently stirring until it melts.
When the pasta is slightly firmer than al dente, drain it and add it to the pan with the sauce.
Serve immediately, finishing with a little Fleur de Sel.

Finito!