They were all out of the organic whipped butter I favor at Whole Foods the other day and, on a whim, I decided to try making my own. I had read somewhere recently about how easy it is—you just proceed as if you were making whipped cream and keep going! I had no idea how much cream to get so I erred on the side of too much, as usual. But I was remembering how when you make paneer, it takes 2 gallons of milk to get one measly portion of cheese. I guess because cream is fattier it doesn't release so much liquid. In the end, I wound up with more than a pound of butter! I added sea salt and froze about three-quarters of it it as I don't really use all that much butter. Why bother with all this? It was easy, it was fun, it was interesting and, in the end, I wound up with delicious, creamy and golden organic butter. If you have kids, I bet they would get a kick out of joining you in the kitchen for this one.
Read More...

Over the Christmas holidays last year, G and I traveled to Vietnam, Cambodia and Laos with our friends Lisa and Philip. We saw beautiful temples, explored the overgrown wonder that is Angkor Wat, took a boat ride up the Mekong, strolled through the art galleries of Saigon, ate countless bowls of pho, slurped down many coconut frosties, and bought way more Cambodian silk than anyone has a right to. Among the trip's highlights were the many markets we visited. The gorgeous fresh produce, the delicious food being cooked on the spot, sparkling seafood on display and, yes, plenty of other, less appetizing things—like roasted roaches (Philip ate some and said they tasted like nuts), snakes on a stick and a few unidentifiable substances in varying states of decay.

We were pretty restrained about eating on the street like that, having picked up assorted parasites on other trips (and having all become violently ill on this one after eating the homemade paté de foie gras of a French expat at his tiny bistro in Siem Reap). But thanks to the fabulous Australian Luxe guides we were turned on to a fantastic restaurant with branches in both Hanoi and Saigon. I think they were both called Quan An Ngon, but since the guide described them as being as big and packed as "Pam Anderson’s bra," that's how we referred to them.
Read More...

I've had some positive feedback on my round-ups of ingredients, so here's a new one for you. This time it's vinegar, in some of its many permutations. As children, my sisters and I called each other "Vinegar Pig." This originated from our love of drinking glugs of white vinegar straight from the bottle while dyeing Easter eggs. I've never been one to shy away from sour pickles or throat-scratchingly tart salad dressings, and I'm still known to take a swig from the bottle of balsamic, but I think by now I've learned how to employ vinegar to slightly more subtle effect.
Read More...

If you want to make corned beef and cabbage for St. Patrick's Day, you're already too late! Sheesh. I went to investigate some recipes and saw that most call for brining the meat for 8 days. We've got 4. My brisket is very small (about 2 pounds), since it's just for G and me, but this is a great meal to feed a bunch of people—like a family with 6 kids perhaps? I wanted to get this post up quickly, in case you'd like to go to the market today and get your supplies. This recipe looks long and involved but it's actually pretty simple. I just made the pickling spices and the brine and got my meat squared away in about 12 minutes. There are hurricane warnings and flood alerts in effect today in Sullivan Country, but for some reason we're still determined to hit the road for a pilgrimage north to Delicacies of the Delaware—a fantastic smokehouse where we like to stock up on wonderful things from time to time. Hopefully we won't float away...
Read More...

If you've ever been out for Japanese food (not just sushi, but maybe soba or yakitori or hot pots), you may have noticed a little red shaker on the condiment tray. That's shichimi togarashi, a Japanese spice blend traditionally eaten on noodles, soups and stews. It's made from a combination of seven spices (shichi means seven in Japanese), most commonly ground red chili pepper, dried orange peel, black sesame, white sesame, ginger, ground sansho, and nori flakes or powder. You'll often also see a little green shaker alongside, and that's just plain sansho, a berry from the prickly ash tree that is a relative of the Sichuan peppercorn. It has that same peppery-piney flavor that leaves a slight tingle on the tongue. You can find both these condiments at any Japanese market, or online at Japanese food specialty sites.
Read More...

Not sure how many of you read New York magazine, but I wanted to point out that we scooped them this week! (Did I say "we"? I guess I mean me, and of course, you, gentle reader.) They featured a round-up of salts that followed on the heels of mine, and I was pleased to note that food critic Adam Platt's favorite is the same: Maldon sea salt. This whole round-up idea seems to be a hit around here, so I will plan to offer more. Next up, sometime in the near future: vinegars.Of late I have been obsessed with the notion of creating a miso-butterscotch pudding. You can imagine just by looking at that photo of miso, above, how these two luscious flavors might go well together, right? I need an afternoon to putter around in the kitchen and develop this recipe; hopefully some time will free up soon. I'm betting most of you don't eat much miso, but I think you'd really like it. It's produced by fermenting soy beans (or rice, barley, buckwheat and even hemp) with salt and a fungus (koji), and the resulting flavor is variously described as salty, sweet, earthy, fruity and savory. (Hello, umami?) There are different types of miso—red, white, yellow, mixed—and they are all subtly different. Generally, yellow miso is slightly sweete; red miso is stronger and saltier; and white, commonly used for miso soup, is the most delicate. Apparently some of the nutrition in miso—including zinc, phosphorus, manganese, protein and copper—is destroyed through cooking, so it's often stirred into dishes late in the game. I'm sure you've had miso soup, right? A dashi broth with the paste stirred in at the end. Recently on Food52, someone submitted a recipe for oatmeal with miso stirred in after cooking. There are quite a few ways to incorporate this versatile seasoning—spread it on a sandwich, mix it into salad dressing, into rice, even into mashed potatoes. I recently posted a recipe for short ribs with miso. It's actually quite versatile, and can lend its earthy, salty goodness to many foods beyond Asian cuisine. Stay tuned for the miso-butterscotch pudding, but meanwhile here are a couple of easy ways for you to try it.

Read More...

Have you discovered colatura di alici, an amber elixir of anchovy made around Italy's Amalfi coast for the last 2,000 years? Slow Food International has officially declared it a "protected" ingredient. (I ordered my first bottle online here.) When anchovies are salted for curing, they’re layered in wooden barrels, then pressed and weighted down. From small holes in the barrels drips this salty, funky syrup—thus the word colatura, from colare, “to drip” in Italian. Somehow, although more concentrated, it’s a bit less overtly fishy than anchovies. And it’s not quite as rank or muddy (or old gym sock-y) as Asian fish sauce—an essential pantry item, by the way. It's the modern version of garum, a fermented fish liquid (sometimes made from just their blood and guts) that was a sort of salt substitute in ancient Rome. The process was so smelly that production was apparently limited to outside the city walls!
Read More...

I love this expression and its somewhat arcane origins. Salt once had such value that wages were paid in it. I, for one, could not live without the stuff. Having taken you through alternatives to sugar yesterday, I suppose the correct symmetry would have me talking about salt substitutes here, such as they are—soy sauce or even Mrs. Dash, I suppose. But instead I'm going to wax lyrical about my favorite salts. Oh, come off it, you're saying, right? Once it hits your tongue, one salt's the same as the next. Not so. Both texture and taste can vary quite a bit from one salt to another. There's always kosher on hand in my kitchen but it's relegated to the back of the cupboard. I cook with fine sea salt and use all types of flavored and finishing salts to accent dishes. Call me a salt snob, if you will. I'll take it as a compliment.
Read More...

Yet another reason why I want you to own a mortar and pestle: It's so much fun to make your own garlicky mayonnaise. The one above is flecked with saffron, but you can have fun creating exactly the flavors you like—lemony, salty, herbal, garlicky... Hellmann's certainly has its place but there's nothing like the wonderful, satiny texture and rich taste of real homemade.

What to do with it once you've got a cup of the glorious stuff? Make it the dipping sauce for a beautiful platter of fresh and lightly blanched seasonal vegetables. Stir it into boiled or roasted and chopped new potatoes. Dip your steamed artichoke leaves into it. Add chopped pickles, capers, parsley and a pinch of cayenne for a delicious adult tartar sauce. Pound some watercress or basil with it to make a green mayonnaise, great with cold roasted chicken or fish. Add mustard or horseradish and some pan juices and serve with a roast beef. Stir in a little anchovy paste and serve with cold roast veal. Add half a teaspoon of ground cumin and slather on your lamb burger. Beginning to get the idea? You don't really need a mortar and pestle to make this—it's great for pounding the garlic, but not everyone wants their mayonnaise garlicky, and a bowl and whisk or fork also work fine.
Read More...

I’ve heard that all kinds of people send you free products when you have a blog. I guess they’re hoping for a good review. I don’t have advertising on this site, but if I did it would have to be for a resource I wholeheartedly endorse. And if you ever see me touting a product or service here, it won’t be because I’m getting any recompense. That said, I recently received a free sample pack from Pure Indian Foods and I am truly impressed with this family-run company. It specializes in organic ghee, a product they have been making for 5 generations—since the great-great-grandfather launched his business in northern India in 1889! In case you aren’t familiar with it, ghee is essentially clarified butter—butter with all the milk solids removed. This takes out the casein and lactose, making it much more tolerable than butter for those with dairy issues.

Ghee is a lovely, clear golden color and has a delicious, nutty flavor. You’ve undoubtedly eaten it in Indian cooking. Because of its low moisture content, ghee is shelf-stable (keep it in the cupboard for 2-3 months, in the fridge for up to a year) and has a higher smoking point than butter. Pure Indian Foods makes its ghee with organic butter from the milk of grass-fed cows produced only during the spring and summer, ensuring that it is full of the nutrients from fresh, green grass. It’s high in fat-soluble vitamins and contains naturally occurring conjugated linoleic acid (CLA) and vitamin K2. Made according to the Vedic system, the ghee is produced only on days when the moon is waxing or full! Pure Indians Foods uses only glass jars, no plastic. I love this company! In addition to plain, the ghee comes in 6 delectable flavors and I’ve had some fun coming up with ways to use them.
Read More...