Though it may sound Japanese, the word “saganaki” refers to a small frying pan used in Greek cooking. The most famous of these dishes, simply called saganaki, is a fried cheese, often flamed at the end with a little ouzo.
Shrimp saganaki is one of my favorite Greek dishes, and it usually involves cooking shrimp in a tomato-based sauce with plenty of feta cheese sprinkled in. It’s simple yet fantastic if the ingredients are fresh. Doesn’t hurt to be sitting in a taverna on the beautiful island of Santorini while eating it, either!
You can find Graviera cheese in most supermarkets.
I found a slab of Graviera cheese at a local supermarket, and decided to recreate shrimp saganaki using that instead of feta. It was pretty darn amazing.
I like using peeled and deveined 24–30 shrimp, because larger shrimp don’t always cook through. These smaller shrimp will be bite-sized and delicious.
Melty, gooey, delicious!
200g package (7 oz.) grated Graviera cheese
1 can (28 oz.) whole tomatoes
1 lb. (about 24) shrimp, thawed, peeled and deveined
1 medium onion, chopped
juice of 1/2 lemon
1/4 cup olive oil
2 cloves garlic, through a press
pinch red pepper flakes
1 1/2 tablespoons fresh dill, finely chopped
1 tablespoon fresh oregano, finely chopped
1 1/2 tablespoons Ouzo
salt and pepper
Peel and devein the shrimp (or you can buy them that way already.) Place them in a bowl. Squeeze the juice of 1/2 of a lemon on to the shrimp and toss. Set them aside.
In a large pan, sauté the onions in the olive oil until translucent. Add the garlic and cook for a few seconds more.
Crush or puree the tomatoes and add them to the pan. Add the red pepper flakes, dill and oregano, and salt and pepper. Add the Ouzo.
Let this sauce cook down for a bit until all the flavors have blended together.
Pour a layer of the sauce on the bottom of a metal broiler-proof pan. Lay the raw shrimp in a single layer into the sauce. Cover the shrimp with the rest of the sauce and sprinkle the grated Graviera on top.
Place the pan in a pre-heated 350-degree oven and bake until the cheese is golden brown and bubbly and the shrimp have cooked through. I like to finish it under the broiler for a few minutes to get the cheese brown and melty.
Ever since I had char-grilled oysters in New Orleans recently, I’ve been obsessed. I’ve made them at least once a week every week since I’ve been back. But the other day, I went to my local seafood store and I saw some beautiful clams, and I thought: Why not try those on the grill?
I had some friends over a couple of days ago, and I made my Oysters Rock-a-Fellow recipe for them, and I had some leftover gooey cheesy stuffing that goes on top of the oyster. I thought: Why not use it on the clams and then put them on the grill?
A hybrid recipe of two previous recipes, and it really worked!
The first step is to make the gooey cheesy stuffing mix ahead of time.
1/4 cup unsalted butter 1 small onion, finely chopped 1 garlic clove, finely chopped 1/4 cup low-fat milk salt and pepper 3 cups (tightly packed) fresh arugula, finely chopped, about a 5 oz. container 6 oz. mild cheddar cheese (the white one), grated 6 oz. mozzarella, grated Fine bread crumbs (Using GF breadcrumbs will keep this dish gluten-free)
Melt the butter in a pan and add the onion and garlic. Sauté until translucent, then add the milk, salt and pepper, and the arugula. Sauté for a few minutes, stirring, so that all of the arugula wilts down. Slowly add the cheddar until it all melts, then add the mozzarella, stirring slowly, until you have one big gooey mass of goodness in the pan.
Pour the gooey cheese mix into a shallow pan and place it in the fridge for a few hours. It will firm up and you will be able to cut it easily into cubes that you will then place on top of the clams.
Once the cheese mixture has firmed up, and it’s time to cook, start a hardwood charcoal fire in your grill.
Open the clams and put them on a tray, topping each clam with a cube of the firm cheese and arugula stuffing mix.
Sprinkle the breadcrumbs on top of each clam.
When your charcoal grill fire is hot, place the clams on the grill and cook until the cheesy topping melts and the clams have a nice char to them.
They will be lava hot when they come off the grill, so give them a few minutes before eating!
This is a story about my Mom’s dad, my grandfather. Born in Lithuania, he came here during WWII. He was a short man, barely 5’5″ tall, but he was the strongest man I ever knew. As a kid, I watched him crush walnuts, and even hazelnuts, in his bare hands. He would go out into the water at Rockaway Beach, and the waves would hit him head-on, but never knock him down. He had little or no formal education, but he could fix or build anything, from concrete driveways to dog houses. And no matter what chore he took on, he wore a white shirt and tie with a vest while he did it. He never became a US citizen because he had a hard time with the English language, but he maintained his legal alien status, and spoke enough English to work in the kitchens of several high-end restaurants in Queens, NY.
My maternal grandfather, Vaclovas Lukosevicius. A helluva name and a helluva guy. Now I know where I got my receding hairline!
I smoked my first cigarette with him when I was 12, and we had a good talk about it after my face returned to a lighter shade of blue-green. We would walk to his favorite bar on Jamaica Avenue in Richmond Hill, the Triangle Hofbrau (it’s still there) and they let me sit at the bar, snacking on pretzels with a 7-Up while he enjoyed a beer. My Mom was an only child, so I was the only grandson, and nobody made me feel more special than he did.
One of my grandfather’s passions was horseradish…homegrown, homemade horseradish.
It’s been 50 years since I watched my grandfather dig the long, dirty, gnarled horseradish roots out of his garden with a sharp spade, lunging at the ground with all of his strength to cut through the thick fibers of the plant.
After harvesting a large piece, he would wash the dirt from it and then peel it, leaving behind a beautifully smooth white root.
He had a large bowl set under a grater, and he would hand grate the horseradish root with incredible speed. But no matter how fast he went, the potent vapors released by the root would make their way to his eyes, and he was forced to stop several times to wipe the tears away with his old handkerchief and regain his composure before returning to grate the root again.
Onions were child’s play compared to horseradish, and I understood why he did all the preparation just outside of the kitchen door of his Queens, NY home.
Once grated, he would add some water, vinegar, and salt, and his prepared horseradish was complete. He’d store it in tightly sealed glass jars in the fridge, and when it was time to sample the goods, he would carefully open a jar, poke his knife in, and spread the prepared horseradish over beef, beets, twice-smoked bacon, or anything else he desired. I’d watch his face slowly turn red, small beads of perspiration developing on his forehead, and he’d turn and smile at me and tell me in Lithuanian: “Labai skanu!” (Very tasty!)
At the age of 10, I couldn’t figure out what he saw in horseradish, but it didn’t take long before I was hooked myself, as it was a staple at every family dinner table.
Opting for the stuff that came in a jar in the supermarket, I never made my own prepared horseradish until almost 50 years later.
I’ve had a huge horseradish plant growing in my garden for years, and I just never got around to doing anything with it. But one night, as I was preparing my cocktail sauce recipe and I realized that I was out of prepared horseradish, it became clear that the time of reckoning had arrived. It was time, in the finest tradition of my grandfather, to make my own prepared horseradish.
Freshly harvested horseradish roots
I went out to the yard with a sharp shovel and lunged at the horseradish plant, splitting a few roots off of the main crown. I pulled them out of the ground, detached the long leaves, and headed back to the kitchen. Today’s kitchen technology gave me a distinct advantage over my grandfather, and after washing and peeling the root, I chopped it into smaller pieces and tossed them into a food processor. No hand grating necessary! The processor pulverized the root in no time, and I added water, vinegar and salt as my grandfather did, being very careful not to stick my face too close to the opening of the processor where the vapors were their most powerful. A small taste on my tongue just about had my eyeballs shoot out of my head, and I muttered silently to myself: “Labai skanu!”
My grandfather would be proud.
Horseradish is a member of the Brassicaceae family, which includes mustard, cabbage, wasabi, and broccoli. The horseradish root itself hardly has any aroma. But when you crush it, enzymes from the broken plant cells produce mustard oil, which irritates the mucous membranes of the sinuses and eyes. To keep the horseradish from losing its pungency and freshness, vinegar must be added immediately.
Prepared Horseradish
6 oz. fresh horseradish root, peeled 6 tablespoons water 3 tablespoons white vinegar 3 pinches of salt
Chop the horseradish root into small pieces and add water, vinegar and salt. Process until proper consistency is reached. Careful! Use proper ventilation or the vapors will blow your eyeballs and sinuses out!
As recently as a couple of years ago, I had never heard of beef flap. But I purchased one from Slanker’s, a distributor of grass-fed beef out in Texas, and it’s become one of my favorite cuts of beef.
You won’t find beef flap in most supermarkets…at least I haven’t been able to find it…so online ordering may be one of the only ways to give it a try.
Beef flap is also known as bottom sirloin butt, and it comes from a part of the cow where flank steak comes from, only farther back. So it has its similarities to flank.
Beef flap is wonderfully marbled and is fantastic for a variety of dishes, including fajitas, stirfrying, or just enjoying it grilled.
I’ve marinated beef flap in many different ways, with Asian flavors and classic American BBQ spices, but one of my favorite ways is to give it a marinade that is similar to Italian dressing.
Some folks actually use bottled Italian dressing to marinate meat, but I prefer to make my own.
Olive oil White wine vinegar Salt Pepper Granulated garlic Granulated onion Dried oregano
Combine these ingredients in the proportions that you like in a bowl, mixing thoroughly.
I like to trim the beef flap, removing any silver skin that might be on it, and cutting it into pieces that are about 4” square and 1/4” thick. If the meat is too thick, I slice it lengthwise in half, to make a thinner cut. I place all the beef in a Ziploc bag, pour the marinade in, squeeze the air out of the bag and then seal it tightly.
I squish the bag all around to make sure that the marinade makes contact with all the meat, and I place the bag in the fridge overnight. (I usually put it in a bowl or tray, just to avoid any accidental spillage.)
The next day, I remove the meat from the fridge and let it come to room temperature before I cook it on a hot hardwood charcoal grill.
Beef flap cooks quickly on the grill, especially if you like it medium-rare, but because it has that fat marbling, it still stays juicy even if you like it well done.
And if you can’t get outside, a hot cast iron grill on the kitchen stove works just as well!
It’s that time of year when friends are coming over, and you want to make one drink you can serve everyone, rather than playing bartender all night. This one hits the spot.
There’s only one thing better than a freshly made mojito…and that’s a pitcher of freshly made mojitos! Organic raspberries and blueberries are in the markets right now, and my mint plants are taking over the yard! All the ingredients for a great mojito!
Very often, I’ll use raspberries alone, but mojitos are even better when you combine the raspberries with blueberries. I stock up on organic berries, rinsing them and placing them in plastic bags that go in the freezer until I’m ready to make my mojitos. I always go organic with berries. Pesticides should never be a cocktail ingredient! Pay a little extra and get the good stuff…it makes a difference!
Once you make mojitos by the pitcher, you’ll never have them any other way. (Even if you’re drinking alone!)
Make ahead of time…
1 1/2 cups fresh squeezed lime juice
1 1/3 cups turbinado sugar (Sugar in the Raw is a common brand)
Mix both ingredients together, letting it stand at room temperature for a few minutes. I like to combine them in a Mason jar, then shake really hard until the sugar has dissolved. I keep it in the fridge, and it’s good for up to 3 weeks…ready to use any time. Shake it well again before using.
For the Mojitos…
1 cup sugar/lime mixture
1 cup mint leaves, packed
1/2 pint blueberries (fresh or frozen)
1/2 pint raspberries (fresh or frozen)
3 or 4 cups white rum (I use Don Q Cristal rum)
3 or 4 cups club soda or seltzer
Combine the mint leaves and 1/2 cup of the sugar/lime mixture in bottom of a pitcher. Muddle the mint up very well to release mint oils. Add the blueberries and continue to muddle.
Add the remaining sugar/lime mixture, rum and raspberries. Mix well. Just before serving, add the club soda and ice. Stir. Pour into tall glasses.
Or…for drinks one at a time, I put in a shot of the sugar/lime mixture into a tall glass. I throw in about 8 mint leaves and muddle them for a minute. Then I add 2 shots of rum, and a few raspberries and blueberries. I muddle again. I add ice, and I top it with the club soda, stirring well. An option is to pour it all into another tall glass. Garnish with a mint leaf.
Sometimes, a cool adult beverage is just what you need after a long day of yard work. The cucumber plants in my garden have started producing, so it’s time to make this refreshing cocktail!
4 fresh cucumbers, peeled and seeded
Small ice cubes
1 cup loosely packed fresh mint leaves
2 teaspoons granulated organic cane sugar
3 tablespoons fresh lime juice
4 oz. vodka (I like Tito’s)
1 oz. orange liqueur (I like Cointreau)
Peel and seed the cucumbers. Coarsely chop them and then purée them in a food processor until smooth. Strain them through a fine sieve, pressing the solids to extract as much liquid as possible. Or, if you have one, use a juicer. Set the extracted cucumber juice aside.
To a large glass pitcher, add the mint leaves, sugar and lime juice. Muddle the ingredients so that the mint leaves release their oils. Add 3/4 cup (at least) of the cucumber juice. Add the vodka and Cointreau. Muddle again briefly.
Fill tall drinking glasses with ice cubes. Strain the cocktail into the glasses. Garnish with a cucumber spear or peel…or mint.
If you grow your own cucumbers and mint in your garden, this cocktail tastes even better…a fine reward for a job well done!
These 2 recipes are great side dishes for any occasion, and they’re tasty by themselves, or as an appetizer. Feel free to substitute to suit your needs. If you don’t like feta cheese, try Gruyère, smoked gouda, or even mozzarella. Need it to be gluten-free? Use GF breadcrumbs. Don’t have shallots? Use onions or scallions. Don’t like mushrooms? Okay…I can’t help you there…
1 package large white or brown mushrooms
olive oil
1/2 shallot, finely chopped
1 clove garlic, through a press
1 tablespoon fresh thyme, finely chopped
pinch of red pepper flakes
salt and pepper
fresh feta cheese, cut into small cubes
bread crumbs
1 tablespoon fresh parsley, finely chopped
Pre-heat the oven to 400 degrees.
Rinse the mushrooms in cold water to clean them. Remove the stems of the mushrooms and set them aside. Rub the mushroom caps with olive oil and place them on a baking sheet, open side-down, in a 400-degree oven, for a few minutes.
In a pan, sauté the shallot and garlic in a little olive oil. Chop the mushroom stems finely and add them to the pan. Season well with the salt and pepper. Add the thyme and pepper flakes. Set the pan aside, off the heat.
Reduce the oven temp to 350 degrees after removing the mushroom caps. Flip the mushroom caps over so that they look like little bowls. Take a cube of cheese and place one in each mushroom. Top each with the sautéed shallot mixture. Sprinkle breadcrumbs on top and sprinkle parsley over that.
Return the baking sheet to the oven, cooking the mushrooms until they are lightly golden in color, and the cheese has melted.
Mushroom myth: Soaking mushrooms in cold water makes them mushy. Not true! Mushrooms do not soak up any water when left to soak for even 30 minutes. So use your mushroom brush…use your kitchen towel…whatever you like. But I prefer to get them clean simply with cold water.
Here’s another recipe…
Chopped mushroom stems and cubed cheddar, ready to go.
1 package white or brown mushrooms
olive oil
1/4 of an onion, minced
1 clove of garlic, through a press
1 piece of cooked bacon, finely chopped
1 cup of baby arugula
salt and pepper
mild cheddar cheese, cubed
bread crumbs
The cooking directions are similar to the recipe above…
Pre-heat the oven to 400 degrees.
Rinse the mushrooms in cold water to clean them. Remove the stems of the mushrooms and set them aside. Rub the mushroom caps with olive oil and place them on a baking sheet, open side-down, in a 400-degree oven for a few minutes.
In a pan, sauté the onion and garlic in a little olive oil. Add the bacon. Chop the mushroom stems finely and add them to the pan. Season well with the salt and pepper. Add the arugula and let it wilt until it’s soft. Set the pan aside, off the heat.
Sautéed mushroom mix, ready to go.
Reduce the oven temp to 350 degrees after removing the mushroom caps. Flip the mushroom caps over so that they look like little bowls. Cut the cheddar cheese into small cubes and place one in each mushroom. Top each with the sautéed onion/garlic/bacon/arugula mixture. Sprinkle the breadcrumbs on top.
The cubes of cheddar fit inside the caps.
Return the baking sheet to the oven, cooking the mushrooms until they are lightly golden in color, and the cheese has melted.
I didn’t mean to cheat…honest. But I wasn’t thinking when I bought my corn in the supermarket, and I bought ears that were already shucked. Classically, Mexican street corn is made by throwing unshucked ears of corn on the grill to cook them. So I improvised.
I took the shucked ears of corn, placed them in a pot of cold water, and brought it to a boil. I boiled the corn for just 2 minutes, removing them from the water at that point.
I placed the ears of corn on the grill, and watched over them carefully, rolling them back and forth so that they would have a nice char on them but wouldn’t burn. When I liked the color of the corn, I brought the ears inside and added the remaining ingredients, which can be prepared ahead of time.
1/2 cup mayonnaise 1/2 cup sour cream juice of 1 lime 1/2 teaspoon granulated garlic
Combine these ingredients in a bowl and place it in the fridge until it’s ready to use.
Once the corn comes off the grill, brush on the mayo/sour cream mixture all over the corn. Traditionally, chili powder is sprinkled on, but I prefer the Tony Chachere’s. Sprinkle the cotija cheese on top, and garnish with a little cilantro.
I published this just about a month ago, but it bears repeating because June 20th is the official start of Sazerac Cocktail Week!
If I asked you to name a cocktail that defines New Orleans, you might say The Hurricane. After all, it’s a tourist favorite at the famous Pat O’Brien’s on Bourbon Street.
But the official cocktail of New Orleans is the Sazerac, a potent concoction that was created early in the 19th century by Antoine Amédée Peychaud, a Creole apothecary who emigrated to New Orleans from the West Indies and set up shop in the French Quarter. He was known to dispense a proprietary mix of aromatic bitters from an old family recipe, now famously known as Peychaud’s bitters.
Sazerac ingredients.
Around 1850, Sewell T. Taylor sold his New Orleans bar, the Merchants Exchange Coffee House, to become an importer of spirits, and he began to import a brand of cognac named Sazerac-de-Forge et Fils. Meanwhile, Aaron Bird assumed proprietorship of the Merchants Exchange and changed its name to Sazerac Coffee House.
Legend has it that Bird began serving the “Sazerac Cocktail,” made with Sazerac cognac imported by Taylor, and allegedly with bitters being made by the local apothecary, Antoine Amedie Peychaud. The Sazerac Coffee House subsequently changed hands several times, until around 1870, when Thomas Handy became its proprietor. It is around this time that the primary ingredient in a Sazerac changed from cognac to rye whiskey, due to the phylloxera epidemic in Europe that devastated the vineyards of France.
At some point before his death in 1889, Handy recorded the recipe for the cocktail, which made its first printed appearance in William T. Boothby’s “The World’s Drinks and How to Mix Them” in 1908, although his recipe calls for Selner bitters, not Peychaud’s. After absinthe was banned in the United States in 1912, it was replaced by various anise-flavored liqueurs, most notably the locally produced Herbsaint, which first appeared in 1934.
In March 2008, Louisiana state senator Edwin R. Murray filed Senate Bill 6 designating the Sazerac as Louisiana’s official state cocktail. The bill was defeated on April 8, 2008. But, after further debate, on June 23, 2008, the Louisiana Legislature agreed to proclaim the Sazerac as New Orleans’ official cocktail.
The Sazerac, served at the Sazerac Bar in New Orleans.It’s always more fun when someone makes your drink for you!
Peychaud’s bitters are now owned by the Buffalo Trace distillery, home of many a fine bourbon, and also the makers of Sazerac rye, a registered trademark. So the Sazerac Bar has to pay a fee to use the name. That also explains why they use Sazerac rye in their version of this classic cocktail.
But like many popular drinks, everybody has their own version of a Sazerac. In fact, if you Google the drink, you’ll find dozens of versions: with cognac, rye, or bourbon (or even a combination)…with a sugar cube or simple syrup…and with a variety of absinthes.
Note: you can buy simple syrup–I prefer it in this recipe over sugar cubes–but it’s easy to make at home. Simply combine a cup of sugar with a cup of water in a saucepan and heat it until all the sugar dissolves. I keep my simple syrup in the fridge in a sealed container.
2 oz. rye whiskey (I use Old Overholt ) 1/2 oz. simple syrup 3 dashes Peychaud’s bitters Absinthe, to rinse, about 1/4 oz. (I use Herbsaint) garnish lemon peel
Add ice to a rocks glass to chill it. (I also put it in the freezer.)
While it’s chilling, get a cocktail mixing glass, add some ice, and combine the rye, simple syrup, and the bitters, and stir. (Thirty times, according to tradition.)
Take the rocks glass out of the freezer, pour the ice out, and pour the Herbsaint into the glass, swirling it around to coat the glass, then pouring out the excess.
Strain the mix of rye, simple syrup, and bitters into the rocks glass with the Herbsaint.
Run a lemon peel around the rim of the glass and garnish with it.
For me, rye, specifically Old Overholt, is the down-and-dirty way to go. After all, this is not a kiddy drink. A few sips, and you’re feeling no pain.
A Sazerac at the Napoleon House in New Orleans.
Though sipping a Sazerac in New Orleans is an amazing experience in itself, and I’ve had it at the SazeracBar as well as the Napoleon House and other bars in NOLA…perhaps my craziest Sazerac experience happened at the famous White Horse Tavern in New York City, the Big Apple’s second oldest continuously running bar. (It opened in 1880.) I think this is where I was told to use Old Overholt in my Sazerac, and have ever since.
Dylan Thomas was a regular there, and other celebrities, like Norman Mailer, Jim Morrison, Bob Dylan, and Hunter S. Thompson also had drinks there. So it’s probably not surprising that my buddy, Lee, and I overindulged on Sazeracs at this historic tavern.
It was a very cold winter’s night in the late 1980’s–a blizzard, in fact–and we decided to go out drinking in the city, because I was back home in New York on holiday vacation from Alabama, where I was working at the time. We had more than our share of Sazeracs, when we decided we would walk to a new eatery called the Gulf Coast, located on the west side. (All we knew was that the restaurant was about 10 blocks from where we were, but after 4 Sazeracs, “where we were” was questionable, to say the least.)
Now, this was before the internet–before cell phones–before Uber–and no cabs were running (because it was a blizzard, after all)–so we decided we would walk! Not the smartest thing we’ve ever done. It only took a few blocks for us to realize, even in our drunken stupor, that we made a very bad choice! We were certain that we would be found, huddled and frozen in an alley somewhere, only after the spring thaw.
The storm was so bad, we couldn’t even find our way back to the bar. Miraculously, somehow, we did make it to the Gulf Coast, and we lived to tell the tale.
As Homer Simpson once said: “To alcohol…the cause of, and cure for, all of life’s problems!”
Sazeracs. Try your first one at home. Or take an Uber!
I recently purchased several different cuts of the famous Spanish Iberico pork from Campo Grande. One of the cuts was a four-rib slab. I chose to give it some smoke and a slathering of sauce.
The sauce requires a bit of heating, then needs to cool down to room temp, so make it while the pork is in the smoker.
I use the not-so-fancy balsamic for this dish…the stuff you get in the supermarket for about $9 a bottle. There’s no need to use the really good stuff for this.
I have a Masterbuilt electric smoker, which is really convenient for small cuts of meat like this that could otherwise burn to a crisp in a charcoal grill or woodfired smoker.
I set the digital smoker to 275°, because experience has told me that the hickory wood chips that I use will smoke really nicely at this temperature.
Porkaliciousness.
I removed the ribs from the packaging, and sprinkled them all over with Lawry’s seasoned salt, allowing the ribs to sit for an hour before going in the smoker.
Rubbed and ready.
Using the chips, I smoked the ribs for about two hours. The end result gave the pork a beautiful caramel hue.
After 2 hours of smoking with hickory chips.
I removed the ribs from the smoker and placed them on a tray covered in foil. I brushed my sauce/glaze all over the ribs and then wrapped the foil tightly around them, placing them in my kitchen oven and cooking for another hour at 250°.
Glazed and ready to be wrapped in foil.
The sauce/glaze couldn’t be easier…
1/2 cup balsamic vinegar 1/2 cup maple syrup 1 teaspoon cayenne pepper sauce (I like Frank’s Red Hot) 1/2 teaspoon granulated garlic 1/2 teaspoon granulated onion
Combine everything in a saucepan and bring it to a boil, then lower it to a simmer. Cook until it has slightly thickened. Remove it from the heat and let it cool to room temperature before using. It will thicken a bit more off the heat.
Beautifully cooked. It just needs another brush with the glaze…Fantastic!
Live the Live ™ 