Archive for September, 2005

Paper Chef #10: the New Orleans edition

Tuesday, September 6th, 2005

rocks on the beach

We’ve been at a loss for words. I think we still are, to some extent, numb from the horrific events of this past week and not quite able to sit ourselves down and just write about food without thinking of the outrage of so many going without for so long. (Lord knows I’ve tried posting every day; tried and failed.)

But this month’s Paper Chef, with its New Orleans theme, has finally pulled us back to our neglected blog and reminded us that life can (and must) go on.

Chopper and I have never been to New Orleans and in fact just two weeks ago or less we were brainstorming a potential trip around the country and naming our must-see cities. New Orleans was at the top of my list. I still want to go, though I know it’ll be a while yet. I want to see the New Orleans that once was and will be again. I want to fall in love with her as so many of my friends have.

But that must wait, and in the meantime, we’ll give the city and her neighbors to the east as best a culinary tribute as we can muster, improvised with our own Northwest flair.

Paper Chef’s four required ingredients as selected by Owen of Tomatilla were sausage, beer, tomatoes, and shrimp. Owen’s further suggestion for this month’s competition: “participate in the Paper Chef this weekend specifically INSTEAD of going out to dinner one night” and then donate the money we would have spent to hurricane disaster relief.

Since we don’t dine out much (or spend much when we do) we decided instead to choose simple ingredients, raid the panty (or the freezer) if we could, and cook enough for several meals. It seemed most fitting: Jambalaya and biscuits and gravy; hearty meals we wish we could cook for Katrina’s refugees if we weren’t two thousand miles away. Dishes designed to fill us up on the cheap so our money could go where it mattered so much more. All told, we spent no more than $25 and our Paper Chef results fed three people for three lunches and four dinners.

And here’s where I have to stop and consider for a moment. It’s easy to congratulate ourselves: Seven meals and for only twenty-five bucks? Good going! As if there weren’t thousands upon countless thousands in this country alone who’d gladly take twenty-five bucks to feed a family of five for a week. If there’s one thing that’s shocked me even more than the gross incompetence of our government in this disaster, it’s the gross and willful ignorance of so many who truly believe that everyone who stayed in New Orleans stayed out of choice; who truly do not get what poverty means. Couldn’t they have walked, they ask. Why don’t they have cars? If they all had 40-hour-a-week jobs and weren’t so lazy, they could have been prepared. I am numb with fury over such thoughts, and I lack the eloquence to put into words how much it breaks my heart to know that a disaster of this magnitude isn’t enough to smack a little empathy into the damaged souls of the selfish.

Instead, I’d like to direct readers to these links. First, from writer John Scalzi on Being Poor. If you’ve been there, it’ll bring back memories. If you haven’t, it’ll open eyes. Second, this most excellent post and its follow-up from novelist Cherie Priest. Just go, read, you’ll be glad you did.

Last, closer to our virtual home, Amy of Beauty Joy Food is hosting a fundraiser. She asks participants (and you don’t need a food blog to join in) to write about New Orleans — food, memories, music, whatever — and then add this banner and fundraising link to your post:



We’ve no memories to share, but for this post, we’ve food. Good, hearty Southern food, Belly Timber style. Enjoy, share, live, and most of all, give.

Chopper's Northwestern Jambalaya

Chopper’s Northwestern Jambalaya

(For this recipe, we raided our freezer for a hefty helping of Dungeness crab, leftover from a summer picnic — which we’ll cover in another post… soon… we promise! The bacon and rice were freebies, and Chopper saved us even more by making the andouille at home.)

Ingredients

  • 1 pound homemade andouille sausage (see below)
  • 1/4 pound bacon
  • 1/2 pound 21-30 cooked shrimp
  • 2 whole, cooked Dungeness crabs
  • 4 medium sized fresh tomatoes, chopped
  • 4 cups jasmine rice
  • 1 pound dry red beans (soaked overnight)
  • 2 pints light American lager
  • 2 1/2 cups red wine
  • 2 cups water

For the Homemade andouille sausage:

  • 1 pund pork shoulder
  • 1 pound smoked pork hock
  • 4 tablespoons Chopper’s Blackening Spice
  • 2 teaspoons kosher salt
  • Pulse all ingredients together in a food processor until finely chopped, but not pureed.

    Method

    1. In a large pot, heat 2 tablespoons of olive oil over medium high, when oil begins to smoke add bacon, and cook until most of the fat is rendered out. Add sausage and cook until firm. Deglaze pot with a small portion of the red wine.
    2. When the wine is, for the most part, evaporated, add rice and stir until all the rice is covered in fat (and spices from the andouille), then add the beer, remaining red wine, water and half of the chopped tomatoes. Bring to a simmer.
    3. Take cooked whole crabs, remove top shell, then clean and de-gill, and break into quarters.
    4. When the mixture is still bubbling, but near done, add shrimp and crab pieces and bring to temp.
    5. Turn out entire dish onto a platter or large bowl, garnish with other half of the chopped tomatoes, serves… many.

    (For this version, we snagged a bag of pablano peppers at the local farmer’s market, roasted and skinned them to be stuffed with jambalaya as a garnish.)

    Chopper's Northwestern Jambalaya

    Stuffed biscuits with spicy gravy

    For the biscuits

  • 3 pounds biscuit dough
  • 1/2 pound chorizo
  • 1/2 pound shrimp, peeled & deveined
  • 2 medium sized tomatoes, chopped
  • 1 cup light American lager
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • For the gravy

  • 1/2 cup flour
  • 1 cup 2% milk
  • 1/2 cup butter
  • Method

    1. Cook chorizo in a medium skillet. When chorizo is firm, add shrimp and tomatoes, season to taste with salt & pepper.
    2. Make biscuits, using standard method, substituting beer for other liquid.
    3. Once biscuit dough is complete, lay portions on a sheet pan lined with parchment. Create depressions within the portions of dough and fill with sausage, shrimp, and tomato mixture. Top with another layer of dough. Repeat until you run out of dough.
    4. Place biscuits in 400 degree oven.
    5. While biscuits are cooking, bring remaining sausage, tomato, & shrimp mixture back to medium-high heat.
    6. Add butter.
    7. When butter is fully melted, add flour and make mixture into a roux.
    8. Cook roux until the “popcorn” aroma has dissipated (meaning, the flour’s flavor has cooked away), then add milk.
    9. Reduce slightly until gravy has achieved desired consistency.
    10. Ladle over finished biscuits. Serve hot.

    This recipe served six generous portions.

    Stuffed biscuits with spicy gravy

    Excuses, excuses…

    Monday, September 12th, 2005

    So I was thinking about having a petulant little “August sucked rocks” temper tantrum and ask for do-overs, but then I remembered that time doesn’t work that way and I’m stuck in mid-September with no hope of ever accomplishing everything I wanted to accomplish during the August Eat Local Challenge. At least not in August.

    So, I’m declaring the next (let’s see, how long will it take for me to truly get my ass in gear?) year… yeah, that’s it, year… as Mrs. D’s Eat Local Challenge, a.k.a. Mrs. D now gives herself a year to figure out how to do a better job of eating local.

    It’s not that we completely sucked in August. Okay, well, we sort of did on some fronts ::cough:: Kellogg’s Raisin Bran ::cough:: but in some areas — produce, meat, fish — we did quite well. Well, except for those moments when someone offered us free fish that wasn’t local. We never turn down free fish.

    ahi sashimi
    Free ahi sashimi from, would you believe, Sysco?

    Anyway, too many things interfered with our ability to visit farms, bake bread, pick crops, spear our own sea cucumbers… oh, wait, we never said we’d do that last one… but that doesn’t mean we can’t do it now. Or soon. Or, well, within the next year at least. Except maybe the sea cucumber bit.

    Cuz here’s the thing: I really liked what we were able to accomplish. The local food was delicious. I found local manufacturers of items I never expected, and I learned — or at least started learning — what all grows right here in San Juan County. I mean, kiwifruit. Who would’ve thunk it?

    Gratuitous Food Photo #1

    Thursday, September 15th, 2005

    Moon fish and orzo stuffed artichoke
    Panko pan-fried moon fish with sake piccata sauce and orzo salad stuffed artichoke.

    SHF #12: A Custard for all Seasons

    Friday, September 16th, 2005

    Bread pudding

    I have custard issues. It’s not that I dislike it horribly (though it can, on occasion develop a bit of a skin that screams I am bad! I defy you to eat me and not get a tummy ache!), it’s that it brings back memories. Memories of my own personal actor’s nightmare.

    See, I was doing this production of The Actor’s Nightmare, go figure, when custard reared its ugly head. Let me explain: For those who don’t know the Christopher Durang play, it’s like this. A man with the unlikely name of George Spelvin is thrust on stage, sans script, sans costume, sans any notion whatsoever of where he is and is told he’s “going on” in a short number of minutes. Going on to what, George wonders, and soon finds out that he’s Hamlet and it’s opening night. Or maybe it’s Noel Coward’s Private Lives and he’s Elyot, or it’s Beckett’s Endgame, and he has to act while sitting in a garbage can. No matter, because soon enough it’s on to the execution scene in A Man For All Seasons, and George (as Sir Thomas More) has his head on the chopping block.

    Now in the script, George’s fellow actors have gathered around him, all save for Dame Ellen Terry, who is still in Endgame mode, eyes out front, up to her neck in a garbage can. The actress now playing Thomas’ mother enters, carrying a custard, uttering the line “I’ve brought you a custard, Thomas.” Thomas thanks his mother (or some such) and she stands there, holding custard and spoon, until the moment the executioner swings his axe and the lights go out.

    In my own personal actor’s nightmare, it goes more like this:

    Thomas’ mother enters: “I’ve brought you a custard,” she says and stumbles slightly causing the custard to fly up into the air and land, face down on the stage in front of the gathered cast. She gasps, then giggles. Fellow cast members attempt to say their lines, then giggle. Then laugh. Then, along with the audience, guffaw most horribly.

    All except me. Why? No sense of humor? Nah. It’s because I’m Ellen freaking Terry, stuck in the garbage can out front and I don’t see a damned thing.

    So here I am – attempting to be the best straight man the Theater of the Absurd has to offer – in character even, eyes out front, never a glance behind to see what the hell is going on, uttering my lines with the straightest face I can muster, and in a garbage can no less – and just upstage of me we’ve got the entire Roman Legion from the Bigus Dickus scene in Life of Brian, all because of a CUSTARD.

    Is it any wonder I am scarred for life?

    Now, Chopper assures me that my playing the straight man probably generated even more laughter from the audience. Not that this is any consolation. In fact, it could provoke me to shun custard all the more. But, because this is Sugar High Friday, and the theme is indeed custard, I will allow him to play. Provided he does it away from home.

    Fortunately, on that score, we’re in luck. Chopper’s been patisserie guy at the restaurant for a while now, and today is the perfect day for him to make another rendition of his successful dessert special, Bread and Butter Pudding. And this isn’t just any bread and butter pudding. It’s a brandy-soaked concoction with home (or rather restaurant) made brioche. The recipes for pudding and brioche are Chopper’s adaptations from recipes in Professional Baking by Wayne Gisslen (4th edition). And because this is for a restaurant, it’s a big recipe. We’re talking 18 by 34 by 4 inch hotel pan here, and enough tasty goodness for eighteen rather sizable portions.

    Brandy Brioche Bread and Butter Pudding

    serves 18

    Brioche (adapted from Professional Baking p. 141)

    Ingredients

    • 4 ounces (1/2 cup) half & half
    • 1 ounces active dry yeast
    • 4 ounces all-purpose flour
    • 10 ounces eggs
    • 1 pound all-purpose flour
    • 1 ounce sugar
    • .35 ounces (2 teaspoons) kosher salt
    • 14 ounces butter, softened

    Method

    1. Scald half & half and cool to lukewarm.
    2. Dissolve yeast in half & half, add flour and mix to make a sponge.
    3. Let rise till double.
    4. Place sponge in mixer with paddle attachment.
    5. Gradually mix in eggs.
    6. Then add dry ingredients to make a soft dough.
    7. Beat in butter, a little at a time until it’s completely absorbed and the dough is smooth. (It will be very soft and sticky.)
    8. Let rise 20 minutes, then pan.
    9. Bake at 375 F for at least 45 minutes or until it passes the toothpick test.

    Bread & Butter Pudding (adapted from Professional Baking, p. 467)

    Ingredients

    • 2 pounds brioche sliced thin
    • 8 ounces butter, melted
    • 2 pounds eggs
    • 1 pound sugar
    • .16 ounces (1 teaspoon) kosher salt
    • 1 ounce vanilla extract
    • 5 pounds (2 1/2 quarts) half & half
    • 8 ounce brandy

    Method

    1. Cut each slice of brioche in half.
    2. Brush both sides of each piece with melted butter.
    3. Arrange the brioche slices so that they overlap in the pan.
    4. Mix together eggs, sugar, salt, vanilla, and brandy until thoroughly combined.
    5. Add half & half.
    6. Pour custard mixture over the brioche in the pan.
    7. Let stand, refrigerated for at least one hour until brioche absorbs the custard mixture.
    8. Set pan in another 4″ hotel pan, filled with one inch of hot water, then place in oven preheated to 375 F.
    9. Bake for 1 hour or until set.

    For many more custards, check out the Sugar High Friday Round-up!

    Obligatory Cat Photo #6 (WCB #15)

    Saturday, September 17th, 2005

    stray kitties
    Many moons ago, in my former life in Portland, I lived in a neighborhood of many cats. (Honestly, we ruled the neighborhood, no question about it.) One neighbor collected cats. In fact, she had so many, she fed them on the sidewalk! Strays always had a place to go here, no matter what.

    Curious to know how cats were faring down south these days, I did a quick image search (and you think cats can’t Google — hah!) and look what I found!

    Kitten!
    And, oh my goodness more kittens!

    Ahh, it’s days like this that I think maybe our human captors aren’t quite so bad after all.

    noahswish.jpg

    For tons more Weekend Cat Blogging, visit the amazing Kiriasaurus Rex (in a hand-knitted jumper!) over at Clare’s eat stuff

    A Feast on the Beach

    Monday, September 19th, 2005

    Ooligan!

    This, is ooligan. Ooligan, you ask? What the heck is that? From the name, you’d think it has something to do with Eliza Doolittle cursing out an Arsenal fan, but actually, and obviously from the picture, it’s a fish.

    More specifically, it’s a sea-going variety of smelt that lives along the British Columbia coast, prized among the native people for its rich oil. Ooligan (or oolichan or oolican or eulachon) is caught in rivers and bays in the spring, then drained of its grease and dried or smoked. The grease is a precious commodity — a valuable trade good and often the most prized gift at a potlatch.

    And the fish, after pressing and drying, can be turned on end and lit with a match like a candle. It’s that oily.

    It’s also quite tasty. Especially the head.

    How I got to eat an ooligan is a somewhat long story, but I’ll try to make it brief (or at least I’ll try to get to the part about food quickly).

    It all started many years back when my father was working with the Samish people (just east of here in Washington’s Skagit Valley). The Samish were struggling to be recognized as a tribe, and thanks to my father’s scholarly input, they succeeded. After my father died this spring, members of the Samish tribal council spoke to us about honoring his memory, and not long after that, the first opportunity arose: The San Juan Nature Institute was hosting a multi-tribal salmon picnic. It was the perfect place for the Samish to present my mother with a gift of thanks for all of my father’s work.

    At this point, Chopper and I were just hoping for a chance to attend, but in mid July, just a couple weeks before the picnic, we had the good fortune of running into our family friend Farhad – who was not only the picnic’s organizer, he was also the picnic’s chef. Five minutes of conversation later, Chopper offered his assistance and the two chefs were knee deep in menu planning.

    The picnic was to take place at Fourth of July Beach, just a half mile down the road from our house. The prep work was in the other direction, back toward town at the Mullis Community Center kitchen. We met there on the morning of the event and dove in.

    First up, 110 bread rolls from a big bowl of homemade bread dough. While we filled sheet pans, Betsy, the third member of Farhad’s crew (and our local health inspector!) set to work on his fish stew.

    Farhad’s stew was a traditional style recipe that included halibut, clams, carrots, celery, and the stand-out ingredient of herring roe. Farhad explained to us how the roe is harvested. Sea farmers dig pools along the beach and line them with kelp. At high tide, the herring swim into the pools, and the farmers block their exit. The herring, perhaps confused by their captivity, spawn a second time, covering the kelp with their roe. The pools are then reopened, the herring swim out to sea, and the farmers gather up their roe-covered sheets of kelp.

    Picnic Prep

    After we finished with the bread, it was on to the giant cooler of crabs. 28 Dungeness crabs to be exact, all gathered off the beach just a short walk from Farhad and his wife April’s home on Haida Gwaii (the Queen Charlotte Islands). The crabs had all been cooked and then frozen, so it was our job to defrost, gut, and quarter them. (And I have to say that 28 crabs later, I’m now an expert crab cracker!)

    In the next room, while we quartered crabs, Farhad prepped the contents of the second giant cooler (and the results of his most recent fishing expedition): King salmon.

    Picnic Prep

    Needless to say, all of this made us quite hungry. Fortunately, we had snacks for the crew: three varieties of smoked salmon – maple, alder, and best of all the rich, oily belly meat, smoked in mesquite. I have a feeling I probably ate more than my share.

    An hour before the picnic’s start, we drove home for a quick respite, then headed off to the beach. We arrived shortly after three, and since the salmon dinner wasn’t scheduled to start till five or so, this gave us our second break of the day and a chance to attend an ethnobotany talk presented by the San Juan Nature Institute.

    I took copious notes during the talk (enough to make for a lengthy post on native uses of local plants… sometime in the future… ahem), and continued my note-taking during a lively round of plant identification on a hike down to the shoreline. If we’d been graded, I would have scored a high B or an A, with massive thanks to all those childhood nature walks with Dad.

    Just a few of the edibles we encountered included Pacific crab apple, Sopalali, yarrow, wild beach pea, and below the tide line, nori. I immediately entertained grand thoughts of harvesting our own nori, only to have my hopes dashed by the revelation that to do it proper, we’d need scuba gear and a shellfish permit. Damn.

    After the talk, Chopper took to assisting with the dinner set-up, while I attended a second talk – this one on ornithology. After that: meal time!

    At the cook tent At the cook tent
    At the cook tent

    Chopper and Farhad at the grill; serving dinner.

    Summer Salmon Picnic
    The glorious fish stew.

    Summer Salmon Picnic
    A full plate — but leave room for ooligan!

    While Chopper stayed at the grill station and attended to the salmon, I patrolled both the cooking and the eating areas, snapping pictures – but not too many pictures. I had to have disc space left for the presentation of my Mom’s gift from the Samish, and for the evening’s entertainment: Haida dancers.

    Haida dancers

    The dancers, led by Haida artist Christian White, hailed from the town of Old Masset on the northern coast of Graham Island, Haida Gwaii. Traditions are strong there; children learn the native language in school, and not only are the old songs passed down from generation to generation, but new songs are written as well.

    Haida dancers

    At the end of the picnic, in true potlatch tradition, the Nature Institute distributed gifts to all the attendees: smoked salmon, seaweed, wooden boxes and coffee mugs, and a beautiful commemorative print of a starfish created by Haida artist April White. Oh, and leftovers. Tons and tons of yummy leftovers.

    Oh, and about that gift presentation: I have to say that it went by a bit quickly and I spent so much time scrambling for a good spot to take a photo that I missed the photo I wanted to get. Not too worry though. Two weeks from now we’ll be attending a Samish potlatch and all I can say for now is that the Samish have come up with a way to honor my father that is so incredibly, amazingly cool that I turn into a little blubbering ball of emotion just thinking about it. Stay tuned…

    Want more photos? Good, because I got carried away, set up a Flickr account, and uploaded a ton of them. Enjoy!

    Enticing Island Photo #3

    Tuesday, September 20th, 2005

    Cattle Point Lighthouse
    Cattle Point Lighthouse… just a short drive down the road…

    Getting in touch with my inner Meme

    Friday, September 23rd, 2005

    sky lilies

    I lied. I told Cookiecrumb that I would post this last night.

    Blame it on William Petersen, or Chris Rock, or just plain ol’ blog depression cuz lord knows I wanna strangle everyone who’s got time to post every single day of the freakin’ year. (No I don’t. Not really. Well, not so much, anyway. Perhaps just a gentle strangle.)

    Anyway, point is, Cookiecrumb, who I promise I don’t want to strangle, tagged me for what has to be this season’s most amusing meme. It goes something like this:


    1. Delve into your blog archive.
    2. Find your 23rd post (or closest to).
    3. Find the fifth sentence (or closest to).
    4. Post the text of the sentence in your blog along with these instructions. Ponder it for meaning, subtext or hidden agendas…
    5. Tag five people to do the same.

    Actually, it goes exactly like that. In fact, I cut and pasted the instructions because, hey, do I look like someone with time to reinvent the wheel? I can’t even post every day!

    So, off I went, into my archives, and what should I find but this for my 23/5 sentence:

    “Except for our favorite dim sum joint, of course.”

    It’s from an IMBB post about cooking with tea in which I bemoan the fact that most restaurants just don’t serve good tea. Well, except for our favorite dim sum joint, of course.

    The dim sum joint, I should point out, is several hundred miles away and we haven’t visited it in months.

    Which brings me to my (ahem) supposedly Zen-like pondering and the following realization:

    I have misplaced my Buddha nature.

    I’ve looked for it. I mean, it could be in a drawer somewhere, or in the back of the car next to the dog frisbee. Then again, it could be gone for good. In fact, I’m beginning to think The Cat’s eaten it.

    This is all rather sad. See, once, I was so very in touch with my Buddha nature that I was a regular bodhisattva. Or at least I strived to be one, which was, in a sense, like striving to be someone who is striving. I strive to strive, I would tell people, and then they’d just look at me funny, at which point I’d say “I think I’ll go sit now.” And they’d assume I meant grab a chair and read the paper, and, well, that whole sitting thing got very tricky because my mind is just plain messy. I mean clutter from here to next week. Not to mention bad 80s song lyrics.

    Oh, the samsara of it all.

    So now I must contemplate, many miles away from my favorite dim sum joint: just how do I find what I’ve lost. (Seriously, you’d think an island would be a perfect place for stress cases like me to distress, but you’d think wrong. Does the phrase “stir crazy” ring a bell? Ah well, at least we’ll be safe here when the pandemic hits. Yup. Gotta love that gallows humor, so necessary when one has lost one’s Buddha nature…)

    Five minutes goes by…

    And another five…

    You know, contemplation in front of the computer screen just isn’t all that effective, is it? Plus The Cat is whining at me. (Give me back my Buddha nature, Cat, before I –)

    Five more minutes.

    Nope. Not working.

    Oh, wait! I know! Chopper? Tonight we’re making dim sum!

    dim sum!

    Ah, much better now. I think I’ll go check my web stats.

    Taggity tag tag:

    I’m going to be lazy evil mischievous just like Cookiecrumb and not send out a tag notice…. so, if you see your blog below: Tag! You’re it!

    Sweetnicks at sweetnicks
    Shauna at gluten-free girl
    Anthony at spiceblog
    Stephen at stephen cooks
    Biscuit Girl at you gonna eat all that

    WDB: Superfluous Dog Photo #2

    Friday, September 23rd, 2005

    Mishka at South Beach
    At last! The weekend isn’t all about the cat! Bahrooo!

    (Lots more cute pups over at Sweetnicks’ Weekend Dog blogging round-up!)

    Obligatory Cat Photo #7 (WCB #16)

    Friday, September 23rd, 2005

    Feed me!
    I will have my revenge, Furball!

    (For more weekend cat blogging and more kitties (most of them in better moods) check out Clare & Kiri’s eat stuff)