Toast

Suvir Saran's Goan Shrimp Curry, with Vegetarian Variant

I have gone on at some length about how much I like American Masala, Suvir Saran's new cookbook. There I found this recipe, which I have now made several times, and plan to repeat often. Although I made it with the shrimp, I have also enjoyed the shrimpless leftovers with rice. And that is, essentially, the vegetarian version of this curry- just don't add the shrimp at the end. It is excellent.

It is possible, as per Mr. S., to make this recipe using a store-bought curry powder. It is very good, but much better even yet with the recommended home-made toasted spice mix instead. There is a recipe for that combo in the book. I can't be reproducing every recipe, though...and anyway, the book is well worth buying, IMO.

I have found this an excellent make-ahead company dish. You can do the sauce in the morning, or even a day ahead, leaving it in the fridge, the flavors melding happily. Then you just reheat it, and add the shrimp and chopped cilantro, cook for a few minutes until the shrimp are done, and, there you are.

I like to serve the curry to each person in a pasta bowl, big scoop of basmati rice in the middle, and a moat of shrimp and sauce all around- such as you might see a New Orleans estoufee. I think it looks nice, and it suits people who like their rice and sauce separate, as well as the mixed-together crowd. Personally, I fork or spoon a bit of each, breaking down the edge of the moat as I go. I still play with my food. It's a thing.

This is what you need, minimally adapted:

Marinade:

Juice of 1/2 lemon
coarse salt
black pepper
1/4 tsp cayenne

1 lb shrimp

Mix the marinade together, add the shrimp, and refrigerate. (Note: Even if you are making the sauce ahead, you should not marinate the shrimp fror much more than an hour- or the lemon juice will cook the shellfish. If that happens, and you have an unintended ceviche, which you then cook- it will go all rubbery, and spoil your curry. I learned this lesson long ago and far away. The ruined shrimp irked me for some time thereafter.)

Assemble the other stuff:
1 cup of water
1/4 cup canola oil
24 curry leaves (optional- lovely if you can get some. Mmm.)
4 little dried chilis- or to taste
1 tsp ground black pepper
3" piece ginger, peeled and minced
1 medium red onion, peeled and finely chopped
4 tsps coarse salt
2 minced garlic cloves
2 tsps ground coriander
1/2 tsp tumeric
14 oz can tomatoes, chopped (I love muir Glen Oven Roasted- I buy them by the case, when, as this year, I have been lazy, and failed to put up my own)
1 tsp sambhaar (or 1/4 tsp curry powder)
1 1/2 cups coconut milk
1 cup fresh cilantro, chopped

Put the water near the stove. Heat the oil, curry leaves and chilis over a medium high heat in a big sturdy pot, for just a minutes, then add the pepper, ginger, onion and salt. Cook until the onions are lovely and brown. whenever they seem like they are starting to stick, add a bit of water to loosen them. (This is a nifty cooking technique, which permits deep browning of the onions with a reasonable amount of oil. I have used this- since learning it here, to good effect in other dishes. It even helps cut down the extreme amounts oil needed for my beloved Mudjadarrah. Very clever.)

Once the onions are nice and brown, you add the garlic, coriander and tumeric, and cook for just a minute, until the garlic scent comes up, then reduce the heat, and add the tomatoes. Deglaze, and then simmer the lot at a low burble for about 5 minutes. Add the coconut milk, sambhaar or curry,and the rest of the water. . Bring to a boil. Now, you can cool and refridgerate your sauce, or continue. If you did the sauce early, bring it back to the boil. Add the shrimps, and cook until they are just done. Stir in the cilantro, and serve.

Pretty simple, no? It was, by the way, seriously assisted by a side of "Grandma Haye's skillet corn bread", which recipe, believe it or not, comes from the same cookbook. It's a new take on an old favorite, with toasted spices, and lovely fresh corn. Also, fennel slaw, which doesn't come from the book, but went down well. A keeper.

Tatin Dogma

There are dishes I'm always playing with, and then there are a few about which I am a total, heels-dug-in reactionary. Tarte Tatin at my house has not changed since I first got it figured out, thanks to Patricia Wells. I have no plans to chill out on this issue in the future. I do not claim authenticity, but rather hold this of no consequence, because it is all about the charming and tasty end product. I'd be glad to try your tatin, your way, at your house. I've even stuck a fork into a strange, deconstructed restaurant version, featuring a towering stack of pastry squares and poached apple slices in a cage of spun caramel. I probably couldn't recreate the latter if I tried, but anyhow, I emphatically don't want to. I am willing to try all sorts of upside down fruit pastries using other techniques, but this is my one and only apple tatin.

Sometimes my tatin looks pristine and elegant, sometimes ordinary, or even a little dumpy, but it always and reliably delicious. It is comforting food in the extreme, but a treat, rather than everyday fare. It ain't no meatloaf, though it is cosy enough to follow one for dessert. I would rather eat it than the classiest of pastry chef cakes. There is a bit of bother, but no extraordinary skills are needed; it makes the house smell delicious. I'm pretty sure that if someone made it for me, I'd love them forever. Or, for awhile, conditionally at least. This pie, without more, certainly won't make you any enemies.

Though I am not a fan of the Golden Delicious apple for eating out of hand (mealy, icky), I believe it is the perfect apple for this tart. I will not be moved from this position. Should you wish to make this recipe with another apple (and P. Wells herself does so), I will not be responsible. (I will, however, interrupt this screed briefly to advise you that if you do use a different apple, you must use all apples of the same sort, and preferably of more or less the same size. Please believe this, it is all true. In this way, as in several others, the Tarte Tatin differs from a classic American apple pie. If you were making an American As Apple type pie, a mixture of various apples would be, as you probably know, a fine plan. End of sub-screed.)

But I hope I have persuaded you to go with the Golden D, because in cooking, especially in cooking this way, it is transformed-sweet, slightly spicy, soft- yet holding its shape. You will need 8 or 9 of them, 10 ounces of unsalted butter, and 2/3 of a cup of vanilla sugar, or regular sugar and a tablespoon of vanilla. Also, you will need a 10" round of pastry, short or puff, rolled, trimmed and sitting in the fridge nice and flat. You will also need a well-seasoned 9" cast iron pan or other reliably unsticky, heavy pan. An actual tarte tatin pan-copper, with little ears on either side for turning would be splendid. Santa has yet to turn up with one for me, so I use the cast iron. Get out the bulb baster, too.

At some point, you should preheat your oven to 425F. You needn't do this at once, because you are going to cook the apples for at least an hour before the tart goes into the oven. So. Spread the sugar evenly in the bottom of the pan. Cut the butter in thin slices, and distribute them to cover the bottom of the pan, in one layer. Sprinkle with the vanilla, if you are using plain sugar.

Now peel, halve and core your apples. Set them in the pan, with the outside rounded part against the side of the pan, on edge. Once you have closed the circle, make a second circle of halves inside, facing the same way, also on edge, In the space in the center, place one half, curved outside downwards. As you cook these apples on top of the stove, they will shrink, and begin to slide into place. You can nudge them towards their final positions, from time to time, as you cook them, for about an hour, basting frequently, until they are entirely soft and ready to eat. Keep in mind that when they go in the oven, you want them all with the closed curved side down (cause that will be the top in the end), packed tight.

If you make this tart often, you will notice that as the juiciness of the apple varies, the carmel syrup may be more or less thick, or runny. It is best quite thick, so if you see it more liquid than usual, you can sprinkle some more sugar over in the last 15 minutes or so on the stove. As you baste, it will melt into the sauce, and thicken it. Don't do this the first time though- the pastry absorbs some liquid, and you won't be able to judge that until you've seen the whole process a few times. There have to be some advantages with experience, after all. But don't worry- it will be super good even if it is swimming in overly-juicy, messy liquid.

You can more-or-less see the starting arrangement in the lower photo, though I cannot take a decent indoor food picture to save my life. Once the apples are perfectly cooked and arranged in place, take the pastry from the oven and set it over the apples, tucking in the parts that extend beyond the pan rim. Put it in the oven, on a cookie sheet or other drip catcher, and cook 35-40 minutes, or until the pastry is done. Remove from oven and place a large serving platter over the top of the pan. Over the sink, and protecting your hands well, flip the tart over, onto the serving plate. Remove pan. Carefully (they are soft), replace any errant apples, and mop up any particularly goopy, out of place wetness with a damp paper towel. Serve warm or cooled, preferably the same day, but the leftovers, if any are not to be sneezed at.

Theories About Risotto For Supper

There are any number of reasons to make a full-fledged risotto, even when you will be dining alone. These include, as I have mentioned before, anticipated leftovers in the form of croquettes and pancakes. Personally, I love a Risotto Milanese, but I do understand where Deborah Madison is coming from when she says that most risottos on their own, just do not quite make a complete meal. That is, unless they are loaded with say, shellfish and so on, which is really not my favorite thing to do. Still, there is a little bit of fiddling involved in the simplest risotto, and it all happens right before serving, so whatever you have alongside should not need last minute pyrotechnics.

When you are doing a full company kind of meal, a classic Osso Buco is the perfect, and time-honored partner. It is delicious, complex but straightforward, and the whole thing can be ready before you ladle the first broth over the rice. But I'm not going to want this extra-hearty traditional combo for an ordinary dine-alone supper. The risotto is the main attraction here, taking more than enough attention on a Sunday evening-I just need something simple to go with it.

Either of two alternate matches are available, because I made a big pot of Arlette's pea soup this weekend, to take for lunches this week, and some extra beef broth for the risotto alongside. So, I've got a few extremely boiled veg and a couple of pieces of more-or-less cooked to death beef shank on hand. I can either make a simple mironton, and stick it in the oven when I start the rice, or cut up the beef and veg, toss them in oil and vinegar, and set them on a plate of arugula, or baby greens in the fridge to pull out when ready.

I'm doing the latter today, because it's easiest. I think this goes well with the Risotto-I've done it before. A lot of pickier eaters think these broth byproducts are not worth eating, being so cooked-out, but I am not one of those people. Both beef and veg do need a little vinegar to spark them up, though. And either the mironton or the salad will provide some. A few capers are not amiss either.Somehow a plain big green salad would not seem quite enough extra-for me anyway.

In case you don't already have your own method, here's how I make Risotto Milanese. This is sufficient for one person's main course- with ample leftovers. It is enough for two who will eat it all at once, but it is better to be greedy, don't you think? I'd make up to 3 times this much in one pot, for 3 people and their leftovers. I no longer have any idea if I'm way off the classic recipe- I have a feeling the peas don't belong?But I do like them in, so never mind.

You need a cup of arborio or other suitable risotto rice, a quart of good beef stock, butter, salt, pepper , 1/4 tsp saffron, smashed in a mortar and pestle or the like, 1/4 cup of dry white wine (or fennel ratafia made with dry white wine-which I just happened to have), a small chopped red onion, 1/4 to 1/2 cup freshly grated parmesan cheese, a handful of fresh or frozen peas, and salt and pepper.

Heat some butter in a heavy saucepan of a size suitable to the quantities you are making. Meanwhile, heat the beef broth to a simmer, and keep it going. Add a little broth to the saffron in the mortar and stir, then pour the mixture back into the broth. Add the onion to the butter, and cook until just transparent. Add the rice and stir with a flat wooden spatula or a similarly shaped silicon one-no metal, no spoons. Stir until it starts to go white, then add the wine. Set timer for 12 minutes. Over a healthy heat, stir until almost all the liquid is absorbed. Now add a ladle of broth, and keep pushing the rice around the pan, until it is just wet. Add a ladle of broth at a time.

You are to use up all the broth this way. When the timer goes off, add the cheese, peas, and a bit more butter and continue. Probably all the broth will be used up in 6 more minutes. Cover the pan, and let it sit 7 to 10 minutes. Serve sprinkled, if you like, with parsley. And with a little something else, as per our early discussion. After supper I'm going to have a small glass of plum ratafia for dessert. It turned out very well, and I will tell you about that more later.

Tomorrow you can have some cute croquettes over steamed, very thinly sliced root vegetables in lime and butter, with a wedge of lime. Or a pancake . Or stuff some peppers with the leftovers. That's what I'll do next time.

In Which She Goes to Nantucket and Not So Surprisingly, Walks, Eats and Shops

Call me crazy, but my favorite bit (apart from seeing my friend Cindy, of course) of my little New England holiday was the sperm whale skeleton at the Nantucket Whaling Museum. Is it not awesome? You can see the size of the whale, as compared to the whaling boat below it. How would you like to ride for hours in one of those, attached by a harpoon to an angry whale trying to detach you and your whaling cohorts?

We heard a talk, and saw a whaling film from 1922. Also, though you can't see this, really, in the photo, the whale is almost all head, with a curved pre-historic looking tail, but also these amazing flipper-things. The flipper bones are exactly like the skeleton of a huge human hand- all the digits, and knuckles -everything. Oh, what can I say, I am a big geek. I adored it.

The Whaling Museum, and indeed Nantucket in general, is in such quiet, pretty good taste as to set off warning bells. Cindy thought her daughter, who has very specific, somewhat spartan aesthetic standards, wouldn't like it- for being too picturesque and perfect, and I could definitely see what she meant.

We stayed in a grey shingled B and B with shining white trim, in a sweet attic room with sloping ceilings, and crisp white cotton curtains, whch was perfectly coordinated with all the rest of the surrounding pretty houses, set off by just enough really nice flowering shrubs, and brick and cobblestone streets.

I was somehow just fine with it, anyway, despite the whiff of expensive stage set- it just completely hit the spot for unboring restfulness. It was delightfully cool- as compared to the ridiculous record-breaking high temperatures at home. Also, I just really like seeing sailboats in water. Does something for me every time. I should get a toy boat for my bathtub.

We took the ferry from Hyannis, lugged out suitcases up the steps at the B and B, and basically spent the rest of the weekend wandering about lazily, looking at the museum, shops, sailboats and menus in the numerous restaurant windows, deciding what to eat later. We had some damned good food, which sort of surprised me. Not that I was expecting to be poisoned- I realize that the general moneybags summer Nantucket crowd would expect, and get a decent effort, but I hadn't hoped for actual wonderfulness. And we had some wonderfulness, plus quite a bit of very goodness. The food was a real treat.

We hadn't done much in the way of research about food ahead of time- just a wee bit of an egullet scan. This revealed a number of good candidates for serious breakfasts, and I do love breakfast out. But the B and B came with a perfectly adequate buffet breakfast, so we didn't try any of that. Our two best meals were dinners, one casual, one dress-up. At the Brotherhood of Thieves- which may be better known as a bar than restaurant, I think, we had a local not-too-pale pale ale (forget name-sorry), and shared some oysters. Cindy had a really good big dinner salad- and I had a lobster BLT which was excellent- with, inter alia, huge chunks of lobster in mayo- plus outstanding curly french fries of total fresh hotness. I would be happy to have that meal again several times over.

At The Bistro at le Languedoc (fancy but comfortable, dark, quiet-ish, plenty of space between big tables, long wine list), we each had the same entree. It was sweetbreads and pork cheeks- 2 each- in a deep red-brown madeira sauce with itty bitty onions and peas, over a soft puree of sweet potato. I kind of picked it because it was that-which-you-cannot-get-at-home, and I love sweetbreads. I had read of pork cheeks-but never had any before. Wow-they set each other and everything else off a treat. I was so not disappointed, and pretty much wound up licking the plate. There was excellent crusty bread, which looked ordinary, but was outstanding, so I went the mopping it up route-I couldn't bear to leave any. Cindy also though it was all great. By far the best food I've eaten out for a good long time.

The Bistro's menu is a little puzzling at first, but the waiter explained, when asked. Entrees seemed divided into two types-the usual and the unusual, though not so-labeled. The unusual entrees were available both in full and small sized portions. The full-sized portions (we had these) were just right- neither skimpy arty little dodads, nor giant, gotta-have-a-doggie bag opulent. Only the anoerxic would seriously want a half sized portion for dinner- but these entrees did not seem the sort of things you'd want for an appetizer, either. Per the waiter, the half sized portions were for those unsure of their reaction to the more novel items. Still, I don't see what the rest of their order would be. This was of no consequence to us, as we didn't fear any of the more creative entrees, and had a hard time choosing.

Also at the Bistro, there was a super good classic creme brulee for dessert. Someone once said that the true test of a restaurant, or chef, or something- was the quality of the simple roast chicken and the creme brulee. Despite the ring of affectation..I think it's probably true. Cindy had a sort of deconstructed tart tatin- she seemed to think it was nice, but wasn't moved to tears or anything. I did taste it, but was by then so stuffed that I don't really remember it. I sure would like to eat there again some time.

I'm kind of winding down with the yakking here, though I probably should mention some expensive, but really good homemade icecream- at a place the name of which I forget, but it's just right by the ferry. There was blackberry-so good, and there was green tea/ginger- also so good.

Oh, and there was shopping of the sort to induce dawdling, including a shop called Majolica, filled with an incredible selection of the same, with many eccentric individual pieces. There were antique shops of several kinds. I bought a couple of things, one at a Tibetan shop. There I got me a warm, pretty winter hat of black velvet, lined in silk with a satin ribbon and a border of fake fur (per the proprietor, whose father made the hat, the D.Lama suggests the use of the fake fur whenever reasonably possible, instead of the real article!). I have a giant head, like an extra large man's hat size- so it was both unusual and cheering to find a nice hat that neither sits atop my skull like a clown's derby nor looks as if it was meant to be worn by a lumberjack. I almost wish I'd bought two- there was another very nice one which also fit.

I also found some slippers to take to my two year old relative (first cousin twice removed -ha- sort of a grandcousin) Ella, when I go to England in February. These are like tiny multi-colored bear feet, beautifully made and lined, and with 3 golden fabric claws on each foot. I think they will make her look like she is from Where the Wild Things Are. Which, judging from her pictures, she already rather does- a Sendak-ish lovely little face.

Ah well, I am a bit wistful about being back to home and work. I liked those gray clouds and sailboats..I do believe the salt air and gray skies are therapeutic, and that ocean breezes blow the cobwebs out. Also, islands are cool. I think I'd better go cook something. In honor of the (at last) cool weather, I'm going to make Arlette's pea soup.

See You Soon

Well, I've been lazy and unmotivated, and I didn't even alert you to the Honeycrisp apple season, come and gone for the year. It should be about time for the Northern Spys (Spies?), though- my favorite pie apple for American style pies.

I do like those Golden Delicious for the frenchified ones, though. A recent tarte tatin from some farmbox organically raised and very fresh G. D. apples was demolished before I thought to take a picture. I learned to make tarte tatin from a Patricia Wells recipe, which had a very useful hint for arranging the apples when you start. I'm going to make another one soon, and plan to tell you all about it. When I get back.

I'm off to New England to visit friend C., and we're going to Nantucket for a weekend while I'm there. Ocean. autumn leaves, the lot. So. I'm thinking I should be energized by my holiday, and get back to posting a little more often.