Author: foodnerd

Oooh, baby! The recipe in Saveur (March 2004) for Persian ground-meat kebabs sounded just like the delicious treats we get at Molana in Watertown. Finally got to try it out tonight, and it’s terrific. (tallasiandude *really* likes persian kebabs, too, so bonus.) Lacking big flat skewers, I made them into little oblong patties for the grill… they come out moist, light, intensely savory. And I didn’t even use any lamb, just beef. The secrets seem to be finely grated & drained onion, for flavor & moisture, and brushing the patties with saffron-infused butter as they go on the grill, adding that elusive flavor note I associate with Molana-kebabs. Very easy, very impressive for guests, and very delicious.
(I used my immersion blender’s chopper attachment to grate the onion, which didn’t so much grate as reduce to fine puree. Happily, this seemed to be an improvement, as it allowed the kebab texture to be finer. Now I just have to figure out what to do with a cup of onion juice…)

Made last night for B’s birthday dinner — deep dark chocolate flavor, very moist yet still a bit cakey texture. Raves all around. Easy and quick to make, and uses pretty much standard pantry ingredients: chocolate, butter, eggs, vanilla, sugar, all-purpose flour. And no frosting or filling, so no chance of the slumpy vomitous layer cake syndrome which has afflicted my last 3 birthday cakes. (i’m just a loser.)
chocolate fallen souffle cake from February Gourmet chocolate article. The chocolate layer cake from this article was also excellent and intensely chocolatey, which I find rare in cake.

Fellow cooks, one of our group’s father has issued a challenge. He has been working to perfect a vinegar pie crust based on his home ec teacher’s recipe and has asked for our help. I will happily mail out packets containing his wonderful letter, which I know you’ll love because I did, a copy of the original recipe from the 1978 cookbook, his own notes & tweakings and a recipe for fresh pear pie.

Found a tasty new melon yesterday — approximately cantaloupe sized, a bit more oblong, and bright canary yellow. Very sweet whitish flesh. Apparently you should look for ones that are softish on the end and fragrant — mine was a touch overripe, but it was so juicy and sweet that spleen and I just stuck our faces into the melon slices and gnawed. Yum.

Several years ago, I found a great article in Cook’s Illustrated about coleslaw. Their main point was to salt the cabbage and let it sit an hour in a colander first, to wilt it and drain the extra water out, thereby gaining two admirable coleslaw attributes: 1) slaw floppy enough to get into the mouth without incident, and 2) no runny dressing sitting in the bottom of the serving bowl. They had a normal mayo-style recipe, but I got hooked by the sweet-and-sour purple slaw, with carrots, granny smith apple, raisins, celery seeds, and a simple cider vinegar/oil dressing. You drain the cabbage with both salt and sugar, and don’t even have to wash off the salt. People love it when I bring it to picnics and cookouts, I think both because it’s sweet and because it’s just so damn pretty and purple. *I* love it, but it doesn’t go with every menu because of the sweetness. So I’ve been on the lookout for a savory slaw recipe of equal fabulousness, and I think I just found it.
The newest issue of my favorite food-porn mag, Saveur, has an article about Rick Bayless’s family, who were barbecue restaurateurs in Oklahoma. Never mind about the dill pickles stuffed with mayo and shredded cheddar (yum), it’s the Hickory House Sour Slaw that turned my head. It uses equal parts veg oil and white vinegar, plus raw garlic mashed to a paste with salt, a bit of sugar and black pepper, and the secret weapon: a good dash of dry sherry. The slaw is just green cabbage and chopped parsley, maybe a bit of carrot. You let it sit an hour, to let the dressing do its work. Dang. YUM.
You don’t bother salting the slaw ahead, because the water that comes out dilutes the dressing just right if you leave the water out of the dressing recipe. I made it again last night from memory, and I forgot the sugar, and probably upped the sherry a bit, and it’s delicious. I’d probably use less oil, but then I love vinegar. I put some celery seeds in just now, which was quite nice, but not necessary. It’s so garlicky and salty and crunchy and pickly, I can hardly stop eating it.

From a recipe in the Globe. Turns out a green puck barely bound by the egg — dee-lish! Apparently a favorite treat of persians, especially for breakfast with bread and — wait for it — feta and sour cherry jam!
1/4 cup canola oil
1 bunch each parsley & cilantro (substitute mint or dill), finely chopped
1 lb fresh spinach, finely chopped
1 bunch scallions
8 large eggs, lightly beaten, salt & pepper to taste
1 teaspoon turmeric
1 cup coarsely chopped walnuts
1 cup currants
1 cup plain, whole milk yogurt (or labne)
1) Heat oil in a 12-inch, nonstick skillet
2) In a large bowl, combine the parsley, cilantro, spinach & scallions. Add the eggs, salt, pepper & turmeric
3) Stir in the walnuts & currants
4) Pour the egg mixture into the pan and smooth it so it completely covers the bottom. Cover the pan and turn the heat to medium high. Cook for 6 minutes. Use a long, metal palette knife to check the underside to see if a crust has formed.
5) When the kuku (yep, that’s what it’s called…) is golden on the bottom, cut it into quarters to make flipping it easier. Flip each section carefully. Re-cover the skillet and continue cooking for 6 minutes more or until the golden crust has formed on the other side.
6) Remove wedges and let cool for 10 minutes on a platter. Cut into three pieces each to serve. Serve w/labne and pita wedges.

As a dessert for littlelee’s central-asian-style dinner party, we tried this recipe for Passover honey-nut cake in soaking syrup. Holy moly. Yum! Easy, easy, easy, and as one person at the party said, tastes just like baklava only with a better texture. And frankly, a lot less hassle on the part of the cook. Moist, gooey, nut-citrus-cinnamon goodness, with a rough, chunky texture. It’s not just for Passover anymore. *grin* We served it with cardamom ice cream, but it’d be good with orange sorbet too, or whipped cream, or just plain.