juan canary melons

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.

a tale of two slaws

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.

persian omelet

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.

like baklava, only better

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.

wretched, wretched excess (oh how i love you)

While diligently taking it excessively easy this memorial day weekend, we accepted an invitation from spleen to motor up to Portsmouth NH for the afternoon. Of course, how could we refuse, seeing as how Portsmouth features THE FRIENDLY TOAST? *swoon*
Leaving aside the decor (excessively red, excessively retro, excessively bad-art), and the waitstaff (excessively sexy and retro/arty), this place has firmly grasped a few essential truths about food.
First, the pinnacle of the sandwich maker’s art: The Mr. Haegar. Monstrous slices of homemade white bread, filled with cheddar, pickles, tomato slices, mustard and horseradish cream sauce, and grilled in butter. Served with onion rings, mmmm. This thing is a beast, a titan of filling tastiness — it is the absolute best approach to a grilled cheese that ever was. The mustard and the horseradish kick it over the edge, by bridging the creamy cheese and the tangy pickle (and lots of it, woohoo!). Even though it is a foodgasm, I can only eat half the sandwich, so the fact that it keeps well in the fridge is a sweet bonus.
However, my inability to fully consume the sandwich’s glory may have had something to do with the enormous plate of cheese fries that preceded it. Blue cheese and provolone cheese fries, broiled to a perfect gooey, crunchy brown and served with strawberry habanero sauce. Blue cheese. Plus melty provolone goodness. Need I say more?
The frappe machine was busted this day, but we’ll be having at the frosty treats next time, because they looked *good*. Those Friendly folks have a way of mixing up crazy flavors in the best of ways.
And just because really good is never enough, our waiter put on my favorite Ramones album of all time and played it in its entirety. Bliss.
(postscript: I can’t speak for the others, but we ate at 2pm, and neither tallasiandude nor i was even remotely hungry at 10pm, when we met a friend for “dinner.” Bloated? Yes I was. But no regrets.)

grilled summer sausage

ooh, and another thing from this past weekend: One of my fellow cabinmates sliced up some of that nasty shelf-stable summer sausage, the kind you often get at xmas from Hickory Farms, and put it on the grill, and it came off dee-licious. It renders some of the fat, I think, and toasts up the edges, giving it a little more texture. Who knew?

my favorite food

Speaking of Wu Chon House…. I’ve never had a “favorite food.” It always felt like choosing one of my many beloved children as the favorite — impossible. My fallback answer has always been “cheese.” Just cheese? Yes, all cheeses — never met one i didn’t like.
But into my life has come the perfect food. It has all the necessary attributes for a food: spicy, meaty, sweet, vinegary, fatty, savory, contrasting textures. And I am deliriously happy whenever I am eating it. Tofu kimchi bokum, particularly as made by Wu Chon House, is my favorite food. (Hedge tells me Koreans just call it tofu kimchi and all is understood. But I found it at Wu Chon, and I call it what they call it.)
Take kimchi and onions and fry till caramelized. Add thin slices of fatty pork belly and fry some more. Add a sauce made of gochu jang (spicy pepper soybean paste), brown sugar, soy sauce and garlic. Add a half cup or so of water to it, because you’re going to add some rice pucks and they’ll need water to soften up. Simmer this till everything is soft, the sauce thickens and the pucks are chewy soft. Put some cool sliced tofu next to it on the plate. Eat and be happy. Or just go to Wu Chon and order some — no one else makes it better.
(Thanks to Hedge for the recipe — I shall never again lack for my favorite food.)

Loved It/Hated It – Artisanal

Another from our friend, littlelee:

Prologue: “A” Gets a Reservation. “A” strikes up a conversation with her coworker who loves to talk about food! Turns out she worked for Artisanal (woo hoo!) and we can get a reservation for Friday night, when “J” will hit New York.

Act I: Friday Night. 3 very hungry people looking forward to a wonderful dinner at Artisanal – the reviews are excellent, the place is packed, and we all love cheese.

Act II: Appetizers. We had a wonderful waitress – cheerful, French, attentive – everything was perfect. Delicious cheese puffs came in a paper cone with some of the strongest drinks ever. They were the only drinks we’ve ever paid $12 for that were actually worth $12. (In fact, it is a miracle we can remember the meal…) The Artisanal Blend Fondue (not too stinky!) with apples and bread arrived in due course – we had no compunctions about ordering two separate cheese-based appetizers. At this point, after pouring the wine, our beautiful French waitress informs us that as she is in training, she has to leave for the evening. At this point, they really should have sounded the death knell on dinner, but we were oblivious…

Act III: Entrees? We were exposed like Kate Winslet on an iceberg to the horrors of “team serving.” No fewer than 7 different waiters, and 2 managers “helped” us with our meal. Needless to say, the raclette (yes, another appetizer) arrived 1 hour after the wild mushroom risotto (shared by “A” and “J”) and the hanger steak (“C”). Not only that, but it took no fewer than 3 requests – of different people – before we got that raclette. Now, this didn’t make us as upset as you might think, because the food was fabulous (and hey – we were still doublefisting!)

Act IV: Deserted with Dessert. We didn’t learn. and we ordered dessert anyway, from waiter #7. We got a baba rhum (wonderful), and the piece de resistance, the cheese plate. As “J” described it, “transcendent.” (Def: Transcending the Aristotelian categories…) We picked one creamy (Stanser Flada from Switzerland), one tangy (Tourmalet from France) and one STINKY (Il Caprino Tartufo from Italy). “J”s reaction to the latter: “Barnyard.” “A’s” reaction: “Public bathroom.” They were not kidding when they described it as stinky cheese. It was gross, but oddly compelling, and the next day when “J” was in Princeton she walked by a freshly fertilized garden and thought to herself, “Now what does that make me think of? Oh – right! The cheese!” After getting 1/6 of the bill knocked off because of the poor service the night was complete.

FIN

corn black bean salsa/salad

A new thing created this weekend that was very popular with the assembled triathletes and adventure racers and one lone hiking foodslut. Make it this way:
1 bag Trader Joe’s Roasted Corn, thawed
2 cans black beans, rinsed
half a vidalia onion, chopped
make vinaigrette w/ olive oil, red wine vinegar, lemon or lime juice, salt, pepper, cumin, oregano, minced garlic and minced chipotle in adobo. Add to the above and let marinate (I let it sit overnight, but I don’t think it matters much).
When you’re ready to eat, add a box of grape tomatoes, sliced in half, and if you don’t have any cilantrophobes, add a handful of chopped cilantro. I think the cilantro is fairly important, so if you have phobes, serve it on the side for the rest of us.
Woo hoo! Nummy. Especially good with grilled chicken and veg or picnicky things of that kind.