My days in the wet, green yonder

Hey all, brace yourselves for a long and winding post. This last week I had the rare opportunity to get away from life in general - what a luxury 3 days of camping proved to be without having had 2 consecutive days away from work in the past 4 months or so. I left my apartment on Tuesday, head swimming with fantasies of conquering all manner of small animals to eat, and befriending the animals which were too large for me to conquer. WELL...raccoons stole our couscous, the bay was closed to bivalve shellfish harvest, and a family of 5 otters decimated my crab traps throughout our island retreat. Aside from all of that, a good time was had. With fiddleheads far past their prime and the aforementioned crabtastrophes, I was relegated to fishing and cooking the scant food we came with. Angling from shore also limited my catch, however I found that there were plenty of white spotted greenlings to be had, and so we ate like kings. Here's what I had to work with:
-random herbs (scallions, dill, cilantro)
-onion + garlic
-lemons + limes
-1 stick of butter
-veggies (corn, cukes, peppers, yams)
-flour
-beer + cider
-More fresh fish than you can shake a broken crab trap at

Here's a couple of ways we got along while camping:

Fried greenling with cider sauce

-4 greenling (or whatever) fillets
-enough flour to dredge the fillets
-1 lemon
-salt+pepper
-3 tbsp butter
-small handfull of dill
-1/2 cup of strongbow cider

Get your pan nice and hot, crack open a strongbow, and squeeze half of the lemon over your fillets. Rub the fish with salt and pepper on both sides, then dredge the fish in the flour. Throw the butter into the pan, and once it has melted lay in the fillets (skin side down first). Make sure that you shake any excess flour off of the fish, lest your butter turn to goo. It should only take 3 minutes or so for the fish to brown nicely, and once they do you can carefully flip them over. After both sides are browned remove the fish from the pan and set aside. Continue to brown the butter for a minute or so, and then squeeze in the othe half of lemon and pour in some strongbow (or your dry apple cider of choice). Continue to reduce the sauce in the pan, then season with salt and pepper once it has reached your desired consistency. Tear up the dill (have you ever tried mincing shit with a pocket knife?) throw it into the sauce, then pour some goodness all over your fish.

Roasted greenling with cilantro and garlic

-3 whole greenling (or whatever)
-3 cloves of garlic, sliced
-1 lemon
-5 tbsp butter
-handful of cilantro
-salt+pepper

Gut and scale your fish but leave the head on - this just makes hanging them over a fire much easier. Squeeze about a quarter of your lemon's juice all over them and then rub those sucks with salt (inside and out). Hang them a few inches over a steady fire - high enough to not be touched by the flame too much, but low enough to still get pretty hot. While they're cooking, you can make the sauce which is a simple variation of a beurre meuniere. Brown your butter and garlic in a medium-hot pan - wait for the milk solids to darken, but not to blacken! Once you've got some nicely browned butter just squeeze in the rest of your lemon juice as well as the torn up cilantro. Season with salt and pepper to your liking, take it off of the heat and check on the doneness of your fish. I can't give a very accurate cooking time for this kind of thing, of course it depends on a multitude of factors such as size of the fish, heat at the height of cooking, uh...fortitude of certain oriental trade winds etc etc. Once it's done the thickest part of the fish should be firm to the touch and the heads are no longer...uh...slimy (a highly professional measure, no doubt).

Slide your fish off of their pikes, cover in sauce, and get ready to choke on some tasty, tasty bones.

I used what I caught, but I realize that greenling isn't exactly a typical market fish. It's pretty mild in flavor, not as delicate as sole but not as firm as rockfish. They're good eats all around, and I think that a couple of small tilapia would taste just as nice cooked either way. Alright, no sassy ending today, I'm going outside before another goddamn lake's worth of water gets rained onto my place of residence.

I feel fertile (ladyparts excluded)

Hello all, this is but a proto-post with a teaser of what is to come. Many of you are aware of my produce-my-own-produce endeavours 2009, an experiment in taste and frugality. I have decided to build on the success of yesteryear: a fun hobby, but also a very gastro-relevant practice what with the growing importance put upon sourcing local/fresh/organic goods. WELL, this year my little urban garden is back in full force with french beans, mesclun mix, swiss chard, strawbs, raspberries, eggplants, bell peppers, chilis, watermelon, cucumber, all manner of herbs, 4 varieties of tomatoes, brussel sprouts and bottle gourds. I've found that heirloom varieties are pretty easy to source what with specialty seed vendors, community markets, and my generous Italian neighbors. Here are a few photos of a first leafy harvest and the good things to come.

One of my strawberry pots with stuff on the go in May. May!!!

Raspberry buds

Mesclun mix of arugula, mustard, endive and mizuna.

Vietnamese corriander which is now happily taking over the box in which it lives

Proof that my lemongrass is actually GROWING, and not just defoliating in the cold.

Chard!!!

By the way, all of these close-ups are not me trying to showcase some kind of photographic artsyness - that would be rather dumb seeing as I can only operate Pete's SLR in the automatic setting. It just so happens that I am sparing my dear readers from an ugly truth: my patio is still scattered with the mess of last year's bottle caps and two quietly decomposing ikea chairs. Once June's BBQtasticity rolls around I'll make a trip to the dump and have some some good, authoritatively panoramic garden photos.

Father knows be(ef)st

A few years ago my dad served me a pot roast which I was more than a little reluctant to try. Now, before I write anything more you should first know this: my dad is fucking awesome. He is an amazingly resilient person full of the kind of wisdom and old-country surlyness which one cannot acquire without having lived through multiple immigrations and life-endangering shenanigans. That having been said, he is a godawful cook. His past offerings have included red cabbage juice and maple-beansprouts, so you can understand my surprise when I was faced with something which was both delicious AND cooked by my pops. Unheard of! His original was done with lamb and without the rub, but the simplicity and "death by onion" technique remains in my recipe.

Armanowski pot roast

- 3-4 lbs beef chuck roast
-6 large vidalia onions, diced
(or whatever it takes to cover the roast given your meat and your cooking vessel)
-3 large cloves of garlic
-2 tbsp fresh rosemary
-12 pitted prunes
-2 tbsp olive oil
-1/2 tsp whole peppercorns
-Salt + pepper

Pre-heat your oven to 325 degrees and toss the diced onion with a 1/2 tsp of salt (you can always add more later if that isn't quite enough). Season your beef with salt and pepper, and don't bother remove the strings tied around the meat. Puree the garlic, 1/4 tsp salt, olive oil, rosemary, and prunes together with your weapon of choice. Ever seen a pile of bear droppings? That's pretty much the look you're going for. Put a little bit of oil on your fingers and proceed to smear the paste onto all sides of the beef, whence it should resemble a larger pile of bear droppings. Arrange a handful of onion for your roast to sit on at the bottom of a dutch oven or other heavy lidded cooking vessel and cover the meat with the remaining heap of onions and peppercorns. Place the lid onto the pot and leave it in the oven for 3 hours, or until good and tender. Don't worry about massive pungency from the onions, they lose their bite as they cook down and get surprisingly sweet.




No broth, water, or wine needed - that bit of salt you added to the onions will help bring out their own moisture and when you eventually uncover this awesomeness you will find it swimming in its own de-licious juices. Once cooked, Sweep any remaining onion from the top of the meat and brown it uncovered underneath a broiler for a little extra colour. Slice up the beef and serve it swimming in au jus. Props, dad. Serious props.

Homeslice-ing

Sorry buds, I know I haven't posted in a while. This is because 52 hour work weeks make blogging seem less like an enjoyable hobby and more like being forced to eat navel lint. Thus, in a manner very relevant to my current lack of Ali-time, I will bestow unto you a discovery most excellent which has trounced both my lack of time to cook as well as my severe distaste for bakery.

Oh yes, I used to hate baking, but now I love Jim Lahey. The New York Times published an article that changed bread making as I knew it in 2006, and if you are terrified of yeast like I'm terrified of yeast you should really read it. This recipe is very slightly altered from Lahey's own, and its no-kneadyness has always treated me very well.

3 cups of flour + extra for dusting (I used whole wheat bread flour - it's nice to stay "regular")
1/2 tsp instant yeast
1 1/4 tsp salt
1 5/8 cup warm water
optional:
2/3 cup pitted kalamata olives
1 tsp dried oregano

I love olive bread so I used (duh) olives and some oregano, however you can put in or not put in whatever the hell you like. Some other favorites of mine have been walnuts, asiago cheese, jalepenos, and sundried tomatoes. But I digress...
Mix everything together, cover your bowl in plastic wrap, and let it sit for 12-18 hours. Dump it out onto a well floured surface and fold it over onto itself a couple of times. Cover loosely with plastic wrap and and let it rest for about 15 minutes. Fold it into a more compact lump once again and then cover with a tea towel for another 2 hours for the final rise.


Put a dutch oven or other heavy covered pot into your oven and preheat for 450 degrees about 30 minutes prior to baking. Once preheated, flop in the dough and bake covered for 30 minutes. Don't worry if you've schlepped your dough into the pot all lopsided, just kind of shake it around into place and everything will work itself out while it cooks. I like shaping mine into boules, however folding it into a lumpy square as previously illustrated works very well, just use a well-floured tea towel to turn your dough out into the pot, seam side up. If you shape a boule, you'll want to place the dough into the pot seam side down. The original recipe instructs to follow the initial 30 minutes of covered baking with another 15+ minutes of uncovered baking until the crust is well browned, but despite the fact that I bake things in a derelict piece of crap, I've only ever needed an extra 10 minutes.

Right, let's review then:
1) Mix, leave for 12 hours.
2) Fold, leave for 15 minutes.
3) Fold, leave for 2 hours.
4) Bake.

Believe me, this is the closest you'll get to procuring good eats by clapping your hands and shouting "BREAD ON". Rest assured that its deliciousness guarantees "BREAD OFF" an even easier feat than its predecessing command.

A bon-fire, indeed

For the past couple of months Chris and I have been maintaining a habit of cooking and eating on the beach once a week, which has proven itself to be both a delicious and surprisingly uncalamitous affair. It's an opportune time to futz with flavourful, uncomplicated cooking. Plus, I have yet to lose any tooth enamel from stray grit in my brunch.

Cisca's birthday was coming up so a beach dinner was in order. On the menu was vegetable-goat cheese terrine and shellfish steamed in white wine with tarragon pesto. Anachronisms fluster me, so let's start with what I did the day before:

Vegetable and goat cheese terrine.
1 large eggplant
1 butternut squash
3 large red peppers
olive oil
salt+pepper
A couple bunches of basil
approximately 8 oz soft goat cheese

Peel your squash, and wash the peppers and eggplant. Slice vegetables to about 1/4" thickness, brush with olive oil, and season with salt and pepper on both sides. Grill the veg over high heat until cooked through with nice char marks and set aside to cool. I suppose you could bake them in the oven on a sheet if you don't have access to a grill, about 7 minutes each side at 450 degrees would probably be sufficient. I don't have a terrine mold, I just used a couple of ramekins, but I would think that a loaf pan would work pretty well, too. If you want to skin your peppers like I did just blister their outsides black, and you'll find that it peels right off.

Line your vessel of choice with plastic wrap, brush the plastic wrap with a little olive oil, and then stick the basil leaves to the bottom and sides of your mold. layer in the vegetables and goat cheese as you like, then cover with plastic wrap and stick it in the fridge. While it sits, it's always best to put some kind of weight on top so as to compress the terrine. When you're ready to serve just turn out of the dish and remove the plastic wrap. I think this would be a great thing to serve at dinner parties - it looks great, tastes great, AND bullshits its way around any lack of cullinary expertise you may or may not have.

Come to think of it...this next item kind of does the exact same thing.

Shellfish cooked in white wine

3-4 lbs of your choice of shellfish (we used a dungeness crab, clams, and mussels)
5 cloves of garlic, minced
2 shallots, minced
Salt to taste
1/2 tsp white pepper
3 tbsp butter
1 bottle dry white wine
1/2 lemon
Stick a heavy, lidded pot over high heat and throw in your butter, garlic, and shallots. Once the shallots and garlic soften, squeeze in the lemon and add in the wine and seasonings. After that comes to a boil, dump your seafood in and cover for 5 minutes. We doomed our crab to deliciousness by adding him into the pot and covering it about 5 minutes prior to letting the clams and mussels join in, I would recommend you do the same due to their slightly longer cooking times. Take a peek after 5-10 minutes, and if you see that the shells are wide open you can go ahead and take it off of the heat. Otherwise, shake your pot around a bit and cover it up again.
While extremely delicious with just the broth in the pot and a crusty slice of bread, you can serve it with this stuff for some extra tasty-points. It's great both on the seafood, as well as spread across your favorite artisan loaf.

Tarragon pesto
1 jar with a damn tight lid
Equal parts of sweet basil and tarragon leaves, chopped
1 clove of garlic, minced
1 tbsp corriander seeds, lightly crushed
1/2 tsp salt
1/4 tsp pepper
olive oil to cover

You're going to need a fair bit of greenery in order to make this goodness happen, I would say that a greedy fist-full of each will make about 2/3 cup of pesto. In any case, chop it up to your liking - I don't always want my pesto pastey, so I left it in a pretty rough chop. Stick everything except the oil and corriander into your jar. Heat up a dry pan and roast the corriander seeds for a few minutes to make them a little aromatic, then pour in a goodly amount of extra virgin olive oil. Don't fry it up or anything, just warm the oil through and pour over the other ingredients. Close it up tight and shake that jar like it's the baby you never wanted to have, but always wanted to eat.

Shortchanged and shortribbed

Today it's my birthday, and I have determined the second worst date for one's birthday to fall upon - the worst being christmas, of course. Today is the day Canada competes in the olympic gold medal hockey game, effectively eclipsing the equally triumphant and momentous occasion that was my vaginal-forthcoming. Way to steal my thunder, dedicated athletes. Pfft.

I thought about making myself a cake until I caught a glimpse of my cat, which brought on an irrepressible shudder of disgust as I likened myself to a lonely spinster. Not surprisingly, I passed on the cake and spent the rest of my afternoon completely wasted watching hockey and eating short ribs instead.

short ribs a la ..uh..birthday:

2 kg beef short ribs
2 carrots, onions, and celery stalks - all finely diced
2 bird chilies, thinly sliced
5 cloves of garlic, minced
2 tbsp grated ginger
1 tsp ground allspice
1/2 tsp ground cardamom
3 bay leaves
1/2 tsp ground black pepper
4 tbsp brown sugar
salt to taste
1 bottle of beer
4 cups beef stock
3 tbsp tomato paste
approx. 3/4 cup of flour
2 tbsp corn starch mixed with about 1/4 cup water

Season the meat with salt and pepper, heat up some olive oil on medium heat in a heavy pot or dutch oven, and dredge the beef in flour. Shake off the excess, and brown the ribs on all sides in small batches. Add the mirepoix (onion+carrot+celery) to the rendered fat in the pot and cook until tender, around 5-7 minutes. Dump in the ginger, garlic, chili, tomato paste and spices and stir that bastard up good.



Continue cooking for a couple of minutes, then douse with beer and stock. Add the brown sugar as well as some salt to taste and once the slurry has returned to a boil you can stick those ribs back into the pot, reduce the heat to low, and simmer the whole damn thing covered for 1 1/2 - 2 hours, or until your meat is super tender. Remove the ribs, pour in the corn starch suspension, and whisk while it thickens up a bit for 5 minutes or so. Put the meat back into the braising liquid and you're ready to turn 22 years old - drunk and pantless.

Just for your entertainment, here's a succession of images depicting peter's hilarious drunken fidgetyness during overtime.

Pot-pie-palooza

I don't remember eating out much as a kid, and it didn't really become a regular thing until I was about 15. My parents were cheap, I wasn't a picky kid, and my mom was a pretty goddamn good cook. One place I do remember eating at every couple of months was this crappy family restaurant called "friendly banners". I specifically remember heading there after church (back when we were kidding ourselves into going to church), perhaps to purge ourselves of godliness via grease and jello bar. Mom was a wildcard, but dad always got fish and chips and I always got a chicken pot pie. Now I kind of cringe thinking about that place, but my love of all things pie-related remains, so here's my recipe for veggie pot pie. If you're not dealing with a boyfriend hell-bent on healthy living you could do the right thing and add in some meat, just season it up and brown the bits over high heat before adding into the sauce with the veg. This amount of dough and filling will make a dozen 5" diameter pies.
1 large parsnip
3 large carrots
1 large onion
1 stalk celery
2 tbsp thyme
5 cloves of garlic
3 medium potatoes
(high-starch varieties hold up better, I like yukon gold)
1 cup of corn nibs
11/2 tbsp rendered duck fat (mmm or bacon fat)
3 tbsp flour
4 tbsp butter
2 cups milk
1 cup chicken stock
2 tsp hungarian paprika
1/2 cup chopped garlic chives (or herb of your choice)
s+p to taste

Dice up all of the veggies to your liking, and then heat up a laaarge pan/wok/pot/whatever and dump in the first 9 listed ingredients. I love using duck fat because - come on now - vegetable flavour just doesn't cut it for me. The extra layer of savoriness is extra nice, as is the excuse to cook duck every month in order to support my habit. Cook over high heat until the carrots and parsnips are softened, but don't worry about the potatoes just yet. Season with salt,pepper, paprika, and set aside in a bowl. Use the same pan/wok/pot/whatever to make the bechemel sauce by melting the butter and adding in the flour (ooh, aaah, a roux). Cook it through for a couple of minutes to avoid that nasty raw flour taste, then whisk in the milk and stock. Continue to whisk until thickened, then add in the vegetables you've previously put aside. Season once again and then simmer over medium-low heat until the potato bits are fork-tender. Make sure that you taste your concoction after cooking because potatoes have a tendency to absorb salt, so you may need to season it further. Stir in your chives, put the whole thing outside to cool, and use this time to prep your pie shells.

Here's a really easy, generic recipe for all purpose pie crust - the trick to making it flaky and delicious is keeping everything cold cold cold. So chill your butter, your flour, and your water.
2 2/3 cups of flour, plus extra for dusting
1/2 lb butter (go to hell, marathon-running-boyfriend)
approximately 1/2 cup iced water
1 tbsp sugar
1/2 tsp salt
Cut the butter and flour+salt+sugar together into a sort of fine granola kind of texture. If you own a food processor or pastry blender, life is easy for you my friend. Grab your ice water and pour in a little at a time while mixing, the dough should not be wet and super sticky - you want to use just enough water for the lot to come together. Separate into two pucks (I split it 1/3 for the pie tops and 2/3 for the pie bases) and stick in the fridge to chill for 30 minutes or so. Although this is pretty simple, making anything with copious amounts of flour seems like a huge production to me, so I usually make a whole bunch of dough at once and then keep it in the freezer for future use.
Once you've got the dough figured out, partition each of the 2 portions into 12 equal parts each. Roll them out and lay into the tins. Scoop in some of the cooled filling, roll out a top crust, pinch shut and then brush with egg wash (just an egg beaten with some water or milk). Cut a steam vent and, if you're disgustingly domestic like myself, you can sprinkle some finishing salt on top just to make them look nice. Bake in a 400 degree oven until the crust is brown and cooked through - about 20 minutes. Voila, you have a meal comforting enough to ease you through the weeks of VANOCouver.