Entries Tagged as 'Seafood'

Book Review: My Berlin Kitchn

0

17.10.12

France and Italy get all the attention in food memoirs. Think about it– My Life in France, Under the Tuscan Sun, the part in Comfort Me with Apples where Ruth Reichl is doing Colman Andrews, Between Meals, Eat Pray Love, etc. There must be hundreds of food memoirs pontificating on the wonders of French and Italian cuisine. It gets tedious. Yes, we know France and Italy are fabulous, but too many other destinations get pushed under the carpet.

Berlin really got under my skin when I visited in 2004. It feels strangely empty– as large as two cities with the population of one.  It takes awhile to travel between the vastly different neighborhoods, traversing parks and Cold War era no man’s lands.  As a 20th Century history nerd, I was fascinated by Berlin’s historic sites, but it’s also a forward thinking place with a youthful Euro vibe. And I adore the unpretentious German tradition of sipping a stein of golden pilsner while snacking on sausages, pretzels, and sauerkraut.

So I was intrigued to read My Berlin Kitchen by Luisa Weiss, the blogger behind The Wednesday Chef. The daughter of an American father and an Italian mother, she chronicles her life growing up in Berlin, moving to Boston, moving back to Berlin, settling as a young adult in New York, and then finally moving back to Berlin in her thirties. Her father moved back to the United States after her parents divorced, and she led a disjointed existence pulled between her father in the United states, her mother in Berlin, and her Italian relatives. Each chapter is short, self-contained, and includes a recipe. Several of them detail her trips to visit relatives in Italy and her year studying in Paris to keep the food memoir purists satiated.

Above all, Weiss is completely relatable. Food memoirists aren’t the most self-aware bunch, often detailing their glamorous lives of cooking, dining, and travel. But even though Luisa lives the supposed dream (youth spent in New York City, food blogger turned writer, beautiful wedding in Italy to perfect guy) you don’t begrudge her for it. You cheer her on because she’s honest about all of the hard work and heartache she went through to get there. Ultimately, Weiss’s story is inspirational. She worked hard, trusted her gut, took big chances, and it paid off.

And if writing a vulnerable and heart felt memoir isn’t enough, Weiss also included over 40 recipes in the book. They could almost comprise a small cookbook by themselves! But I couldn’t help but ask myself– does every single important moment in your life actually relate to food somehow? Is that really how the world works? I can’t help but feel it’s a tad contrived.

But there’s no better person to include all of these recipes in a memoir. Weiss is a descriptive food writer. Every time I finished a chapter, I fought the urge to put the book down and make her food. She’s also an adventurous cook and baker, so her recipes aren’t boring tarts with stuff she made from the farmers market. Not that I wouldn’t happily eat that.

I made one of the simpler recipes from her book. This salad of roasted peppers, breadcrumbs, and anchovies is one of her Italian mother’s staple dishes. It maybe converted me to roasting my peppers in the oven instead of on the gas stove from now on.

Peperoni al Forno Conditi

  • 2 to 3 slices stale white peasant bread
  • 3 red bell peppers
  • 3 yellow bell peppers
  • 1/4 cup oil-cured black olives, pitted and chopped
  • 1/4 cup salt-cured capers, soaked and drained
  • 3 anchovy fillets, minced
  • 1 cup loosely packed flat-leaf parsley, minced
  • 4 tablespoons best-quality olive oil, or more to taste
  • Flaky salt, such as Maldon

1. Cut the stale bread into rough chunks and blitz in the food processor until they turn to coarse crumbs. Spread the crumbs on a plate and set aside to crisp up and dry out.

2.Heath the oven to 375 degrees. Line a baking sheet with aluminum foil. Wash and dry the peppers and arrange them on the baking sheet. Put the sheet in the oven and bake for 45 minutes, turning the peppers every 10 to 15 minutes to make cure they cook evenly (I use my fingers, but you could also use cooking tongs). By the end of the cooking time, they should be blistered all over, and their juices bubbling.

3.Remove the baking sheet from the oven and let cool on a wire rack until you are able to handle the peppers. Set out a clean plate or bowl next to the baking sheet and pull the skin off the peppers, working over the aluminum foil. Take care when you “unplug” the stem of the pepper: hot steam or liquid usually comes gushing out. Your hands will become quite wet as you work; periodically dry them to facilitate cleaning the peppers. Transfer the peeled peppers, devoid of any seeds, to the plate or bowl. As you transfer the pieces of pepper, use your fingers to tear the flesh into thin strips. Discard the aluminum foil and the pepper trimmings.

4. Sprinkle the plate of peppers with the breadcrumbs, olives, anchovies if using, capers, and parsley, and drizzle the olive oil over the peppers. Mix gently, and then add a few pinches of flaky salt to taste. Serve right away or let sit at room temperature, covered, for up to 4 hours before serving. If you’re not going to serve the peppers right away, don’t sprinkle on the breadcrumbs until the last minute. That way they retain their crunch.

Disclaimer: Viking sent me a review copy of the book. I was not otherwise compensated to write this review.

Crawfish Pasta and Jazz Fest Emotions

2

12.5.12

It was Jazz Fest in New Orleans last weekend. I went once or twice a year when I lived there. My first experience involved hopping the VIP barricades to watch Bruce Springsteen up close. Then I rode home in the back of a pickup truck driven by some old hippies. Periodically they’d stop in the street and open all the doors so we could enjoy the Black-Eyed Peas blasting from the radio. I guess it was thoughtful of them.

A random drunk guy got a ride with them too. He rambled to me all about growing up in Gentilly. Being out in the Louisiana sun all day in May makes every drink twice as strong, so I can’t blame him.

Little did I know I’d see that man annually for the next four years. It became part of the Jazz Fest routine. We boarded the Jackson Avenue bus from our Garden District apartment and headed to the Fairgrounds. Like clockwork, a trio of middle-aged men boarded the bus from downtown. One of them was that guy, and sometimes he was forced to sit across from me. But we never acknowledged each other ever again. He was probably so drunk he didn’t remember or maybe just embarrassed. It was somewhat awkward.

I wonder if that guy boarded the Jackson Avenue bus again this past weekend? Some of my bffs still live in New Orleans, but they no longer partake in the bus routine. They’ve moved on.

Oh I was recently gifted some freshly peeled crawfish tails and made a dish similar to the quintessential Jazz Fest dish, Crawfish Monica. It’s pasta smothered in a spicy crawfish sauce. Kajun Kettle Foods only makes it for Jazz Fest, but now you can make it at home.

Crawfish Pasta

Ingredients

1 pound fusilli or penne
1 tablespoons olive oil
4 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 onion, chopped
4 cloves garlic, minced
salt
freshly ground black pepper
2 teaspoons paprika
1/2 teaspoon onion powder
1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1 teaspoon dried marjoram
1 teaspoon dried thyme
1/4 teaspoon cayenne
1/4 cup dry white wine
1 1/2 cup heavy cream
juice of half a lemon
1 pound crawfish tails
1/2 cup chopped green onions
1/2 cup chopped fresh parsley leaves
1 cup grated Parmesan cheese

Directions

1. Bring a pot of salted water to a boil and cook the pasta until it is al dente. Drain and reserve 1/2 a cup of the cooking liquid. Toss the pasta with the olive oil and cooking liquid and set aside.

2. Melt the butter and cook the onions over medium high heat until their soft, about 5 to 10 minutes. Add the salt and black pepper to taste along with garlic, paprika, cayenne pepper, onion powder, marjoram, and thyme and cook for another 1 to 2 minutes.

3. Pour in the white wine and cook over medium heat until almost evaporated. Stir in the cream and lemon and simmer until slightly reduced. Add the crawfish tails, green onions, and parsley, and cook until warmed.

4. Add the cooked pasta and toss to coat with the sauce. Taste for salt and black pepper and adjust as necessary.

5. Serve in crawfish pasta in bowls garnished with Parmesan cheese.

D.I.Y. Oyster Bar: How to Shuck

1

24.10.11

I learned to shuck oysters when I lived in New Orleans, where they thrive in warm waters and grow fat and plentiful. Gulf oysters have some drawbacks— they lack the clean, minerally complexity of those harvested in colder waters. The old adage about not eating oysters during months that don’t end in “R” holds true regarding the Gulf oyster. The hot summer waters create ideals conditions for the growth of vibrio vulnificus, a rare but dangerous bacterium most often transmitted to humans through raw seafood. Yet Gulf oysters are special because they aren’t associated with luxury and snobbery. In New Orleans, its common to buy a sack of 300 for about $25 as an interactive centerpiece for an outdoor party or kegger.

You quickly become skilled with the shucking knife when you have 300 oysters to deal with. Anyone can learn to shuck, but most people banish oysters to the “restaurant only” category. This is absurd because there’s no special preparation technique involved in serving them. They are raw! A dozen oysters could easily cost you $25 – $30 at a restaurant, but they are only $1 to $1.25 each if you buy them at Whole Foods.

To shuck oysters, you will need a dish cloth and a shucking knife. No, you can’t do this with a butter knife, I’ve tried. I got mine at a seafood market in New Orleans, but XOXO makes a version you can buy in many big box stores. They cost about $5.

After gathering your gear, examine the oyster. Did you ever notice that one side is flat and the other side is rounded, like a cup? When shucking, be sure that the flat side is facing up so that the delicious oyster liquor stays contained in the cupped side of the shell.

Now cover your left hand with a dish towel and grip the oyster so that the round side makes contact with the table. The towel will protect your hand when the knife inevitably slips while you’re battling a particularly stubborn oyster.  Shucking knives are blunt, but they can cause a nasty wound. Believe me, I’ve done it to myself and seen it happen to others way too many times.

Gripping the knife in your right hand, jab the tip into the hinge of the oyster shell, and turn your wrist clockwise. Shucking an oyster is like picking a lock; you need to find the sweet spot in the hinge, and eventually the shell will loosen and separate. Here’s a great tip: sticking oysters in the freezer for 5-10 minutes makes shucking easier, just don’t forget them in there!

This short video by Hog Island Oyster company clarifies the shucking process. I trust them because I’ve had some of the best oysters of my life during their happy hour in San Francisco.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZFFplJOfyqg]

Oysters take on the flavors of the waters from where they are harvested, so different varieties require different accompaniments. Hot sauce is a must with Gulf oysters and West Coast oysters are great with lemon. East Coast oysters like these Beau Soleils from New Brunswick benefit from mignonette sauce. You can use my recipe for this classic French condiment that is ridiculously easy to make at home.

Mignonette Sauce

Ingredients

  • 1 small shallot, finely chopped
  • 1 tsp coarsely ground black pepper
  • 1/2 cup white wine vinegar

Procedure

Combine the three ingredients and let sit for at least 15 minutes, allowing the shallots to mellow. Serve as a condiment for an oyster platter.

These are just my opinions, but you should decide for yourself.  You will need to do lots of tasting, and serving oysters at home (or seeking out good happy hours) is the best way to do it without going broke.

Six Tips for Buying Whole Fish

0

08.3.11

The first time I ate a whole fish was in Spain. I was fulfilling stereotypes that Europeans have of American female college students by refusing to eat meat (fast forward seven years later, and I’m making pancetta- who would have thought?). I spent time getting “immersed” in the Spanish language, living in the apartment of a young woman in Leon. She wasn’t freaked out by eating habits, and she made me delicious pork-free meals, which is quite a tall order in Spain.

One evening she plopped down an entire cooked fish in front of me for dinner. Apparently it was trout season, and they had just been caught in the river. By the look on my face, she could tell I had never eaten a whole fish before. She showed me how to slice through the flesh at the base of the head and near the tail and easily remove the fillets from the spine.  It ended up being some of the best fish I’ve ever had in my life. The flesh was rich, moist, and flavorful.  Almost like salmon without even a hint of fishiness.

Now I always prefer to cook fish whole. It’s harder to overcook and dry out whole fish because the skin and the bones keep all the juices and flavors sealed into the meat. It’s also easier to select a fresh fish if it’s left whole. Many people are scared to cook fish, relying on professionals in restaurants to make it for them, but baking or grilling a whole fish is one of the simplest and fastest meals to make. After lots of trial and error, here are my best tips for purchasing fish:

1. Stick to locally caught fish if possible. I’ve had some outstanding snappers in New Orleans, but I’ve never tracked down a great one in New York where I stuck mainly to porgies and sea bass. Astoundingly, branzino is all trendy in New York right now, but I don’t understand why since its essentially a Mediterranean sea bass. No sea bass shipped in from Greece is going to taste better than something freshly caught in Montauk. Fish deteriorates rapidly while being transported long distances. Of course, this is just a guideline. I’ve purchased some fantastic fresh sardines from Portugal, and Whole Foods consistently carries high quality rainbow trout farm raised in Idaho.

2. Look into its eye. Most people seem to know that the fish’s eye should be clear, not cloudy.

3. Check the gills. This is my favorite tip. In seafood or ethnic markets, the fishmonger will often happily let you peel back the gills and examine them. Freshly caught fish will have deep red, almost purple gills.

4. Poke the fish. In legit seafood markets, the fishmongers will also let you poke the fish to see if the flesh bounces back. It is a bad sign if your finger leaves an indentation; it means the fish is mushy and not fresh. I obnoxiously complained once in a cooking class about a certain upscale food market preventing customers from touching the fish, and my classmate cried out, “but they don’t want people contaminating it!” I think it should always be ok to touch it unless some customers intend to eat it raw.

5. Examine the skin. Fresh fish is usually shiny, not dull.

6. Smell the fish. This is another common tip, but I find it tricky. It’s true that fresh fish doesn’t smell “fishy” at all, but even in the cleanest seafood store, there is usually a strong enough fish stench to prevent you from really smelling what you’re buying. Sometimes I’ve brought things home, and then realized that I’d made a big mistake after opening the package.

Fish fillets are something different altogether, and I usually steer clear of them because they are  more difficult to judge for quality and freshness. If I need a fillet, I prefer to fillet a whole fish at home. I have a sneaking suspicion that many markets turn their whole fish into fillets as a method of pushing product when it’s past its prime.  That said, I have had some success buying fish fillets by using common sense like sticking to locally caught fish when buying fresh and buying flash frozen fillets of things like wild Alaskan salmon. I also make sure that the flesh looks dense, and that it’s still translucent and not opaque. After that, buying good fillets can be a bit of a game of chance, and that’s why I almost always stick to whole fish.

Theme by Blogmilk   Coded by Brandi Bernoskie