Toast

Lavender Roast Chicken: American Masala

I am a great fan of Suvir Saran, and was delighted to have an early opportunity to check out his new book,American Masala, which will be released soon. This fellow is very much my sort of cook, and cookbook writer, and I am enjoying the reading. Though he is an admired restaurant chef (Devi, NYC), he is clearly also, and possibly mostly, at heart, a home cook. I can well believe that, as he tells it, his guests arrive with tupperware, and make off with the leftovers.

Like another favorite of mine, Deborah Madison, he has a very individual gift for the combining of flavors in distinctive ways, where the whole becomes more than the sum of the parts. Not weird, or even complex, but striking, and well worth repeating. With the exception of a few suggested spices not normally found in more pedestrian of kitchens, all these recipes can be made from supermarket staples. A few minutes at your local Indian grocery will provide the rest- or if you don't have one- they can all be ordered from somewhere wonderful on the internet, Kalustyan's, (yum) for example.

Most of these recipes are not traditional Indian fare, and they are therefore, to me, less daunting. I have made a few traditional Indian dishes, but have no hope of becoming accomplished in these multiple complex cuisines. For that, I must rely on eating in restaurants, or in the homes of people who know what they are doing. But this is American melting pot food, which combines some of the Indian flavors I love, with flavors and methods from other American-ethic traditions, and clever cooking techniques for getting the most from spices. These are clearly do-able recipes for vegetables, grains, meat and fish-ingredients that I can buy at the Giant Eagle, or which arrive weekly in my CSA farmbox.

There is a Goan shrimp curry and a pear chutney, but there are also things like vegetable lasagna, skillet cornbread, meatloaf, and macaroni and cheese. None of them are ordinary, none of them are fussy, and they are calling my name. I'm looking forward to trying them, and will report on more as I do.

A former vegetarian, S.S. now prepares, and eats, meat and fish dishes. And these are lovely. I do find, though, that (like many people who have been vegetarians for substantial periods), he has a way of dealing with fruits vegetables that is much the better for not being an off-hand, side-dish only approach. And his vegetable and pulse recipes just shine.

Nonetheless, my first shot was the lavender roast chicken you see above. I got home from a work trip with a nice organically raised fresh chicken, plenty of fresh rosemary and lavender in my pots on the porch, and a need for rest and simplicity. I made this recipe, and a red cabbage/apple/potato/beet braise of my own devising, and it was good and hit the spot, and I have lovely leftovers. So...this is how you do it, as minimally adapted by moi:

Herb rub:
3 roughly chopped peeled garlic cloves
Tbsp finely chopped rosemary
tsp finely chopped fresh lavender
1 1/4 tsps paprika
1 Tbsp kosher salt
1 tsp ground black pepper
6 Tbsp butter- softened

Smash up everything but the butter in a mortar and pestle, then mix it up with the butter in a little bowl

a chicken- about 4 lbs, rinsed
10 fresh rosemary sprigs
5 fresh lavender sprigs
a lemon, halved
! tbsp melted butter
1 tbsp balsamic vinegar

Preheat the oven to 400F. Gently separate the chicken from its skin, without breaking the skin, by gently sliding your fingers between the two. Stuff that her butter in there, wiggling it in as far as you can, down to the thighs, if possible, spreading it evenly over the bird, and leaving a bit to smear over the outside. Everything else goes inside the bird-except got the butter and balsamic, which get brushed on at decent interviews. SS has you turning the bird as well- which I didn't do, being lazy. I did make a pan sauce, though, with a bit of chicken broth to deglaze the pan. It was very nice, too.

The baby beets, new potatoes, apples, and little red cabbage came in my farmbox this week. They got cooked up with some crushed allspice and caraway seed, balsamic and cider vinegar, S and P, and went down well with the chicken, though you might think they'd clash.

There is going to be a lot more cooked up from this book in weeks to come. So many goodies from such varied sources..and some of my very favorite things. There's even "Im jaddara", which, as it turns out, is a variant of my very most favorite- Mudjaddarah...what's not to like?

Fennel Times Four, and Shrimp

So, if this was an Oscar speech, instead of a blog post, it would begin, "First, I want to thank the redfox." I usually wind up checking out the new and exotic pretty late in the game. For all I know, fennel pollen has been in general use for a decade. But when I read her comments on the topic, I was a goner. She's my daughter, she's fussier than I am, and knows where of she speaks. And let me tell you, she was so right. I've got more experimenting to do, but this stuff is pretty much magic dust. A small pinch of fennel pollen seems to enliven the flavor of all sorts of things-without necessarily announcing its fennel-ness. It's a good thing it meets expectations, because it is really expensive. Fortunately, only a small amount is does the trick- but still.

In this particular dish, though, the fennel-ness of the pollen is a plus. I have gone on at some length before about the three way goodness of fennel- the bulb, the seeds and the frothy, herby top bits. This dish used them all, plus the fennel pollen-I think to good advantage, without any objectionable licorice-y sort of business. I made it for my brother's birthday, and thought it up to meet my primary requirement for company food. I favor dishes where most of the work can be done in advance..so you can enjoy your guests and not worry about the few last minute things to do. This one is based on the Al Forno-style baked pasta, with lots of crusty top, and brightly flavored innards. I think it would be a good vegetarian dish without the shrimp, with some extra feta to compensate.

Here is what I did. Nothing was exactly measured, so it is not a proper recipe, I'm afraid. Proportion wise-keep in mind that you want your end result moist and juicy, but not in anyway liquid. (Unless you don't, of course.)

1. Made ahead some tomato sauce with red onion, chopped fennel blub, garlic, shredded fresh basil, fennel fronds, fennel seeds, fresh chopped tomatoes of several kinds, bit of chopped carrot, and a can of Muir glen fire-roasted tomatoes. Cooked it down for about half an hour. Refrigerated.

2. Early day of serving: Defrosted a box of frozen spinach and squeezed it dry.(The fresh spinach around is not so nice at the moment). Mixed in a large-ish gratin dish (shallow baking dish) with crumbled feta, crumbled goat cheese, a large spoonful of ricotta, some cream, a major pinch of fennel pollen, and the tomato sauce. Refrigerated.

3. Later: Brought to boil large pasta pot with strainer full of salted water. Added equal quantities (weight-wise) of chunky short pasta and shelled and deveined raw shrimp. Boiled 7 minutes, strained, and dumped hot onto the mixture in the gratin dish. Mixed thoroughly with a large spoon, so that the hot shrimp and pasta melted up the cheese. This was a bit messy to do, what with the shallow dish, and all. Smoothed top- sprayed with olive oil spray, grated fresh parm over the top, tossed on a handful of Panko breadcrumbs, and re-sprayed, and set aside.

I like to use spray oil for gratins, because it gets all the nooks and crannies, which can be missed with drizzled oil. It is not an unpleasantly uniform looking effect, because the ups and downs of the surface make some areas darker than others- but there's more overall crunch. IMHO.

4. Just before serving baked in a hot-as-it-would-go oven, until bubbling up, and adorned with crusty brown bits over the top. This is very hard to time- it can take anywhere from 12 minutes to 40 minutes, depending on the oven, the amount of liquid, type of pasta, etc. Gotta watch it like a hawk. If it is done way too early, a couple of minutes in a microwave will reheat the innards without oversoftening the top. The crusty top part is a highly desirable feature.

Perhaps I will eventually do this up as a measured recipe, but I'll have to make it again to do that. Meanwhile-I wanted to share it-because I liked it so much. And I think this is probably enough information for most cooks who'd like to try it. If it isn't enough for you, please forgive me for the sloppiness, let me know, and I will email you in a few weeks, when I've done the math.

Further fennel fun: I'm trying out a fennel ratafia. No seeds (too assertive for this I thought?) : Finely chopped fennel, fennel pollen, vodka, and most of a leftover bottle of chablis. We'll see how it is after it's strained, in a month. I may mix some with tomato juice, for a fennelly bloody mary- if that doesn't sound too weird?

Ratafia Mafia

I have been very lazy, and failed to fulfill my big plans to put up every sort of plum in every sort of preserve this summer. I am hoping to otherwise fulfill my cravings for a drunken whiff of summer in February with a few bottles of fruit (and maybe some fennel) ratafia. According to an story* by Pete Wells in the NYTimes (he of the controversial "cheese sandwich" article, dissing food blogs he considered lacking in mission), ratafia can also do this summer conjuring trick.

There is a recipe there for ratafia from the restaurant T'afia, where several of these concoctions are available at all times. The recipe is entirely adaptable to your own ideas- have a look. You really do need to keep them in the fridge it seems, and their shelflife is such that they are more suited to the home-cook (or craft-y chef) than to commercial production. So good for us.

The one you see here is a nectarine/white pepper/basil one in its first stages, and I've got some lovely damson plums in line for another. They will be those left-over from making the redfox's plum cake, which is the best ever, though you must, of course, avoid the "heat bombs of death," allowing it to cool properly.

*Cleverly screwed up the link, I did. Fear not- recipe is posted in the comments below.

Spot: An Inquiry

As long as I can remember, I have enjoyed Virginia Spots in Pittsburgh restaurants, usually prepared simply-either panfried, with a light bread crumb coating, or grilled..so that the delicate flavor is not overwhelmed. So, when I saw some at Wholey's, I bought a couple, and squirreled them away in the refrigerator at work, to bring home for supper. You can see them above, their heads discretely tucked back on-in the hopes that someone will identify them for me. Because the evidence seems to indicate that they don't, um, actually exist.

I remembered vaguely having been told that the "Virginia Spots" served at some restaurants were actually black bass, and that this was because the spots were very popular, but only available during a limited season, and resembled black bass in flavor. Googling, I found that pretty much every reference for "Virginia Spots" was to a menu listing in a Pittsburgh area restaurant. There was one reference to an Edna Lewis recipe for panfried Virginia Spots, but it was not in either of my two Edna Lewis cookbooks.

In fact, a search of an exhaustive USDA website listing all North American fish, by scientific and common names revealed no such animal. So- I called Wholey's, and asked to speak to a fish guy. I got a fellow named Jeff Lee, who was very nice, and puzzled. He was sure that there was a very specific fish by this name, that he knew what it looked like, and that it was not identical to any other fish he's seen. Nonetheless his boss, when consulted, said that it was "just another name for the bass." But Mr. Lee thinks Virginia Spots look noticeably different.

I fileted my two little guys and had them simply dipped in cornmeal and panfried- and they were delicious, and not expensive, either. So- who are they? Can you help me out here? I promised Jeff I'd call him back if I found any explanation.

addendum: My brother has found them(!) He googled "spot" in the singular. For some reason this did not occur to me. Duh. Maybe they taste like bass, because they eat 'em? I must say, they really don't taste like the bottom-feeders they apparently are; they have a very delicate, light taste. See the little spots on mine? Clearly the same guys. Most of the references are for fisherpersons. Anyone else have any memories of catching or eating them? Special recipes? There are usually a zillion recipes for anything, but I still don't see any for the spots. Well- there's one, but it doesn't look too great.