Condimental

Although by now you're probably used to my rather eccentric titles, this one may be just too obscure. It's an allusion to the fabulous Koko Taylor aka "Queen of the Blues." She was discovered by the legendary Willie Dixon, whose song "Wang Dang Doodle" made her famous. I had the pleasure of seeing her perform many years ago and I'll never forget it. But the title also refers to making hot chocolate just how you like it. Half and half? Rice milk? Bittersweet chocolate? Vanilla? Cinnamon? Chile pepper? Marshmallow? Have it your way. These days, I'm enjoying mine with the addition of Apollonia, a divine spice blend from the mad alchemist Lior Lev Sercarz. Youshould try goosing your cocoa with a pinch of this fairy dust, too.
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I'm always lecturing you about cutting out sugar and eating more greens, right? There are so many blogs you could be reading instead, blogs that give you recipes for cheese-laden pastas and bacon-studded scones and chocolate tortes. And yet here you are, learning about whey and sunchokes and making your own pickles. And I love you for that, you sexy thing. While I don't think it's smart to consider food as a reward, I do believe that into every life a little sweet must fall. Especially with the holidays upon us, it's best to have some pragmatic treats on hand that can shield us from the cheese twists and peppermint bark and pecan rolls that will soon materialize at every turn. So here's a recipe for a tasty little biscut that is sugar-free and gluten-free, yes, but also rich and crunchy and packed with flavor. Trust me, that's not the taste of deprivation.
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You may have noticed my total disregard of the upcoming holiday. Perhaps this is because we are going to a friend's home for Thanksgiving this year and I will not be in the kitchen. Or maybe it's just that I am weary to the bone of online discussions about the best way to cook a turkey and the incessant chatter about "sides." Upon receiving my latest issue of Lucky Peach, I was especially delighted to see that there was no burnished bird or puffy harvest casserole on the cover. (It's actually the Chinatown issue and, yet again, it's jam-packed with some of the most engaging and entertaining long-form food writing out there.) In fact, if I never hear anything more about quinoa, delicata squash or cranberry compote it will be too soon. Yet we must eat, and most of us will be sitting down to a major chowdown on Thursday, so I felt this was the perfect opportunity to continue the conversation about green sauces.
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My fascination with all things powdered and crumbled continues. During our recent dinner at Stone Barns, a tomato powder was served with the bread course, and it added a tart and savory note to the fresh creaminess of their cultured butter. Tomatoes have high levels of naturally occuring glutamates, which are the compounds reponsible for the full, rounded, "meaty" flavors known as umami. It's a big part of what we all love about things like Parmesan, mushrooms and soy sauce. So after making and freezing loads of tomato sauce, I used the last few scarlet beauties of the year to make a jar of powerfully red tomato powder. Sprinkled on a piece of cheese or—mixed with a little salt—on an apple or radish, it adds a lip-smacking tang I find positively addictive.
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Last week, G and I celebrated our fifth wedding anniversary over dinner at Blue Hill at Stone Barns, a fascinating restaurant previously written about here, here and here. We were joined by G's sister and her husband who were celebrating their twelfth. We'd all eaten at the restaurant before—multiple times, in fact—and while we were excited for the 8-course tasting menu, we also faced it with a bit of trepidation. We worried about stuffing ourselves sick, and were slightly aghast to be worried, given the amount of money we were poised to fork over. High class problems, right? No doubt about it. Despite having a beautifully prepared meal that delighted us to no small degree, we all came away questioning whether we ever wanted to eat that way again. It has begun to seem too rich, too precious, too prolonged. So I felt a sharp pang of recognition when I came across this recent article in the New York Times. (Don't miss the equally illuminating and entertaining reader comments!) It explores the current state of the tasting menu in elite restaurants across the country, and from it I can conclude that we are not the only ones disenchanted with the onslaught of dishes and the equally overwhelming prices. That said, I found much of what I ate at Stone Barns to be extremely inspiring, including these divine onions slow-cooked in whey.
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The trickle-down effect—that notion that high culture eventually makes its way to the masses—is news to none of us, and we've also seen the innovations of the street appropriated by the upper echelons. (The high-low mix is basically something of a cliché at this point.) So it will come as no suprise to you that I've recently been experimenting at home with a phenomenon that originated in the most rarefied kitchens. I've witnessed how even highly creative chefs shamelessly borrow from each other, so I'm not worried that you'll find me pathetically derivative. Take, for instance, that frozen foie gras that David Chang shaves over lychees and pine nuts at Momofuku Ko. Before that, René Redzepi at Noma in Copenhagen was shaving frozen sea urchin over a dish of tiny shrimp and foraged beach mustard. I believe Redzepi was the one who started this whole phenomenon of powders and dusts, serving up reindeer lichen dusted with mushroom powder, and a terrine of baby vegetables covered with a powdered malt "dirt." It's part of Noma's whole ethos of preserving, preserving, preserving—storing up an arsenal of flavors to get through those long Nordic winters. Once you wrap your mind around the idea that you can dehydrate almost anything, then grind or crumble it into a very versatile medium, I think you may jump on this culinary bandwagon (along with the rest of the world).
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It's October. How did that happen? If I close my eyes, I can see the pages of the calendar being ripped off and whisked away by the violent winds of time. And yet I can still taste the cream-cheese-&-jelly sandwich I ate with my daddy when he took me to lunch at the deli after nursery school. Time is so mysterious and elastic. Most of us are traveling back with as much frequecy as we move forward. Nothing evokes memory quite as viscerally as taste. Sometimes you can reclaim the past with just one bite. And now and then you can improve upon it, rendering the present moment that much sweeter. Here's a little variation on a theme: the schoolyard lunch, all grown up.
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Not much of a post today (rushing into the city), but just wanted to let you know that the blog, and my recent post on Cape Cod, are featured today on Gardenista, the new garden-centric sister to the wonderful design/lifestyle site, Remodelista. I'm really thrilled about this and hope it may lead to other collaborations. Please stop by for a visit and leave a comment there so I can feel popular. Have a lovely weekend!
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I am not so different from the beasts of the field and forest. Even in this heat, and with all of summer's bounty making it seem that we will never lack for food, we're thinking ahead to those cold, barren months. The squirrels are stockpiling pinecones, the mice are hiding seeds, and I am preserving fruits, vegetables and herbs in a variety of ways. I buy so much fruit at the local farmers market that I am officially known as a good customer and receive certain perks. This week that meant 10 pints of free raspberries deemed too soft to sell but really in absolutely perfect condition. That very same day I cooked them down and put them up—their sweet essence, garnet hue and soft, floral fragrance stowed away for a wintry delight. I've done the same with yellow plums, apricots, gooseberries and strawberries, so I've got quite the collection going in my basement. And it would be my pleasure to share some of it with one of my readers. Just leave a comment before Sunday the 29th at 6pm, and I'll select a winner at random to be announced next Monday the 30th.
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I lived in Madrid in my twenties, and it was there that I took up the habit of drinking Schweppes tonic water over ice as an afternoon refreshment. I think I considered it a sophisticated alternative to the Fanta Naranja that I enjoyed there as a child, plus the European version is more citrusy with a nice bitter edge. Now that I am more careful about what I put into my body, I prefer to create my own refreshing eilxirs without high fructose corn syrup or other strange additives. So I've been meaning to make my own tonic syrup, ever since I saw a recipe in T magazine last fall. And now that I've begun to do my own carbonation (stay tuned for the details), I figured it was time.
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