Nuts about teff
Mood:  happy
Now Playing: good good good
Topic: Cooking

 

Today I'm playing around with teff, a.k.a. t'ef, a tiny and vastly underrated Ethiopian grain that is crazy good and happens to be highly nutritious. In Ethiopia they grind it to make their staple pancake-like bread/tablecloth.

I want to spread the word about teff's fine qualities in a magazine article so I'm fooling around with flavor pairings to develop some recipes for dishes made with it. Usually I just simmer it for 15 minutes, one part teff to three parts water and a dash of salt, then douse it with maple syrup for a tasty stick-to-your-ribs breakfast. But I think it would be good as a sort of pilaf with poultry, in a soup, definitely with cookies. I figured that its unique nutty flavor would be enhanced by nuts, so this morning I toasted up an assortment of some I have hanging around the house--pine nuts, pecans, hazelnuts, walnuts and almonds, to see what would go best.

My vote was for the hazelnuts. Pine nuts would probably be good, too, but mine were a bit past their prime, so not good. The pecans were excellent but I love pecans with everything--I would sprinkle them in the bath if I could. The walnuts didn't work, too assertive for teff's refined subtleties, the almonds pleasant but almost too mild to stand up to it. So on we go; teff hazelnut cookies anyone? I'll keep you posted.

 
* * *

Well, this is totally OT (off-topic) if I ever heard it, but tonight I'm going to go see the King of the Blues, B.B. King. Wee-haa!

***

Ethiopia also gave us coffee when frisky goats were discovered frolicking in a coffee patch, and the shepherd, er, goatherd, said, "I want to get me some of that stuff!"  This fascinating country also produced the Queen of Sheba, and much later, my beautiful son Marco (no, I did it before Angelina). So I'm grateful to the country for many reasons beyond their nutty teff.

Cawl: a hearty Welsh stew
Mood:  hungry
Now Playing: I wish I could mail some of this to you, Ma!
Topic: Cooking

Every year on this date the Welsh celebrate St. David’s Day by sporting leeks on their caps and lapels, a tradition that dates to a sixth century battle against the Saxons when soldiers wore leeks in their helmets to cut down on friendly fire (actually sword slashes). You’ll find the leek in many Welsh dishes. I love them in this Cawl (pronounced "cowl"), a rustic, rib-sticking lamb stew often eaten by the Welsh to celebrate this day, and which I just whipped up for us to eat tonight, either by pure coincidence or psychologically suppressed on-purpose.

Here are the assembled vegetables awaiting surgery. Clockwise from top: leeks, white turnips, Yukon Gold potatoes,  carrots, and rutabaga.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Cawl Mamgu, or Granny Broth:
Welsh lamb and root vegetable stew

This delicious potage will fill your belly happily and sustain you through the rest of the winter. Traditionally it’s served with crusty bread and rich Welsh cheese, and in parts of the country the broth is served as a first course, the meat and veggies as the main. Cawl is best made ahead of time so the flavors will blend in the refrigerator overnight. You can start two days before you serve it, or the morning of the day before.  Serves 6-8.

Ingredients:

3 lbs. lamb neck or shoulder pieces, on the bone
3 teaspoons coarse sea salt or kosher salt, divided
2 tablespoons vegetable oil (I use canola)
9-10 cups (2 ½ quarts) water
9 whole peppercorns
1 medium onion, chopped coarsely
1 lb. white turnips (about 3 medium), peeled and cut into chunks about 1” wide
1 lb. rutabaga/yellow turnip/swede (about 1 small), peeled and cut into chunks about 1” wide
3 fat carrots, peeled and sliced 1” thick
3 sprigs fresh thyme
¾ lbs Yukon Gold potatoes (about three medium), peeled and cut into chunks about 1” wide
1 lb. leeks (about 3/one bunch), root ends and dark green or wilted parts trimmed off, the remainder sliced lengthwise, rinsed well and sliced ½” thick
1/3 cup chopped fresh Italian (flat) parsley
Freshly ground black pepper to taste

Instructions:

1. Sprinkle lamb chunks evenly with 2 teaspoons of the salt and set aside.
2. Heat vegetable oil over medium-high heat in a large Dutch oven or thick-bottomed heavy pan. Brown meat on all sides, without crowding pan; this will take about three batches, depending on the size of your pan. When all meat is brown, return it to the pan with its drippings. Add water and peppercorns. Bring to a boil, skimming scum, then lower heat and simmer for 1 ½ hours. Let cool and chill in refrigerator three hours to overnight.
3. Skim off layer of fat that has risen to the top, then add the turnip, rutabaga, carrot and thyme sprigs. Bring to a boil, lower to a simmer and cook 1 hour. Add potatoes, leeks, parsley, remaining teaspoon of salt and freshly ground pepper to taste. Cook a half hour more. Vegetables should be tender at knifepoint and meat will have ceased to cling fiercely to the bone. Remove thyme sprigs and serve.

Lameness
Mood:  accident prone
Now Playing: Popunders? Unpoppedovers?
Topic: Cooking

Don't try to make breakfast before at least one cup of coffee. And after a wakeful night with a cough and sore throat.  

I left the egg out of the popovers this morning, and I don't know why I am now broadcasting my shame before the world. But oddly, the little hockey pucks were somehow golden brown even without the eggs, with that distinct popover flavor without the heft and puff. They were crispy on the outside and fluffy within, much better than I would have thought. I might even make them on purpose sometime, to soak up beefy pan drippings or savory braise juices.

Me Hungry, Me Cook
Mood:  caffeinated
Now Playing: A Clipping from the Brizzi Bulletin Board
Topic: Cooking

I found this on an internet message board in late 2005 and put it on the wall where I can see it often, because it always makes me laugh. A Google search reveals no author, so if it was you, stand up and take the credit.

HOW DO I MAEK FOD

WELL FIRST U NEED ROK. BIG ROK IS BEST BUT NOT TO BIG FOR THROW.
THEN U WAIT FUR ANIMEL. RABBIT OR COW OR DONKEY IS ALL OK.
THROW ROK AT ANIMEL.
IF ROK MISS ANIMEL RUN AWAY. FIND NUTHR ANIMEL.
IF ROK HIT ANIMEL DED. IF ANIMEL NOT DED, TAKE ROK AND THROW AGEN.
TAKE OFF ANIMEL SKIN AND EAT ANIMEL.
IF REAL GUD HUNTER MAEK FIRE AND PUT ANIMEL ON. SCARY THO SO MAKE SHUR UR GUD HUNTER OK.
IF NO FIND ANIMEL, EET FRUT AND HOP IT NOT POISEN.

New Lamb Recipes
Topic: Cooking
See my new lamb recipes from my cooking demos last weekend at the New York State Sheep & Wool Festival.
They're for South African curried lamb bobotie, shepherd's pie with roasted lamb, lamb tikka kebabs and Lebanese lamb kefta.

Pork story ... continued
Mood:  crushed out
Topic: Cooking
The meat was a tad dry but undeniably tasty, and swabbed with a western NC-style mop, topped with cole slaw on plain buns, not bad. But the experiment didn't pan out quite as planned.

The part I thought would be the toughest, keeping the temperature between 200 and 250, was not as hard as I'd expected; it actually cruised along without the addition of coals at the right temp throughout most of the afternoon, spiking only briefly when I did add coals and stir them up a bit.

From my research I learned from many sources that such a chunk of slow-smoked pork would rise in interior temperature to about 160 or so and then arrive at a plateau that would take about two to four hours and then rise until it reached 190, 195, 200 which would be the perfect point of melting fat and collagens, and then it would be perfectly ready to pull (translate shred).

But that never happened. In the late evening it reached the plateau and just never left it. The temperature in the Weber kept right where it was supposed to be, around 225-240, the aromas were lovely, but the meat never did what it was supposed to. I didn't want to give up, and crazily kept at it until it had been on the fire for 19 and 1/2 hours, and I had been conscious for 24, at which point I simply gave up, spent and ready to sleep. So I just wrapped it in a couple layers of foil and a big paper bag, put it in a cooler with ice, washed some of the ashes off my filthy feet, and crashed. The next day I put in in the oven for a couple hours and the temperature still never rose about normal pork temp, although it did shred pretty well.

The meal was great; my mop was cider vinegar, water, brown sugar, catsup, Worcestershire sauce, salt, red pepper flakes, etc., nicely balanced, and a coleslaw dressed with mop, plus baked beans James Taylor style from Amy Rogers' Carolina cookbook. At the last minute I ditched the hush puppies I was going to make, but served a killer grits and fresh corn casserole, redolent of garlic, jalapeno and cheddar, that I did up in preparation for a cooking demo I'll be doing at the Dutchess (NY) County Fair on Thursday. Friend Erin brought a great green salad. As a goof, along the southern theme I made a blueberry jello "salad," which was actually great, although I don't usually go for that sort of thing. I did some lame sausage balls for an appetizer, but a nice peach cobbler for dessert, but that pork just didn't quite do what I wanted it to do and I m not sure that I want to try it again. I will ask my expert buddies at the eGullet Society for Culinary Arts and Letters, who know everything, what they think I did wrong.


Oh, and I took photos, but when I tried to add them they were too huge, so I will keep working on the technology of that, too...

Swine a comin'!
Mood:  happy
Now Playing: It begins...
Topic: Cooking
Today's the big day; I'm going to slow-cook me some North Carolina-style pulled pork. After poring over 102 pages of research culled from a variety of Internet sources, I'm ready for my first real attempt at the art of replicating this soul-of-southern-cooking specialty.

At 6 a.m. I rubbed a 9.75 lb. picnic shoulder with approx. equal parts coarse sea salt, coarsely ground black pepper, sweet sticky paprika from Penzey's Spices and dark brown sugar.

I won't be able to start it smoking until after I drop off the kids at camp, so if I can get it on the Weber by 9:30 or so I could conceivably be at it until about 1 a.m. when it gets to the magical internal temp of 190-200 essential for pulling.

Keeping the temp inside the Weber hovering around 225-250 degrees will be the tricky part. I'll be hoping I don't get a citation for stinking up the neighborhood with hickory and apple smoke!

Will keep you posted as the process progresses.


* * *

10:27 a.m.

The pork has been on the Weber for about half an hour, and at first the temperature was too high, well over 300, but now it is 230, which is perfect.

It's starting to smell mighty good and that's just the apple chips and hickory chunks; the swine isn't even melting yet. Now the challenge is to keep the temp from going too low, with a combination of continually adjusting the top vents and throwing on more coal and wood, while simultaneously writing an article about the food of Sicily for Global Writes!

I considered using all wood lumps instead of charcoal briquettes, but they tend to run hot and burn fast and I figured this would give more control over the cooking speed, which needs to be sloooooow.

I am terribly slow at everything I do--cooking, cleaning, writing, etc.--so to do something where lack of speed is a virtue is a rare treat!


* * *

2:32 p.m.

Cruising along now, looking yummy already although it may not be done for another 12 hours or so!! It has been at a nice steady 225 for a couple hours now, even without adding any coals. It's time to stop throwing in wood chips--it should be as smoky as it's going to get.

Shredded swine quest
Mood:  bright
Topic: Cooking
I'm on a mission. Having recently sampled fine examples of eastern North Carolina and western North Carolina barbecue (but not in sufficient quantity), I am planning to try to replicate it in the near future for a small group of victims. I did an improper but tasty one in 2000, and am ready to re-tackle it with lots of research. I can't decide whether I prefer the eastern style (whole hog, spicy vinegar sauce) or the western (shoulder only, vinegar/tomato sauce)--they are both unbelievably good.

Lacking the funds to buy a whole hog, I will buy a nice fatty, bony picnic shoulder. My next step is to find some apple wood chips--going hunting for that this afternoon. Then I need to set a date for the event--I will keep you posted.

For my recent column on N. Carolina food, look here.


Can't believe it's been three months to the day since my last blog entry--I will have to check in more often. And it seems that blogs just aren't blogs these days without lots of big juicy photos. Should I add some of those?

easter feastin'
Mood:  party time!
Now Playing: an intimate sit-down dinner for 15
Topic: Cooking
Readers of my columns know about the grand holiday feasts cooked by my father-in-law Angelo, a Tuscan expat who crossed the Atlantic more than two dozen times as a merchant marine and died five years ago. Every Easter, Thanksgiving, Christmas and other occasions in between he would cook huge meals in his two tiny Manhattan kitchens, serving ten to twenty-five people dirty jokes, jolly camaraderie and fantastic food.

In his honor--and admittedly with my own desire to cook a big dinner--I offered to cook Easter dinner for my mother-in-law and an assortment of her friends.

I kind of surprised myself that I pulled it off, since usually timing the components of a meal for two is beyond me. I think Angelo's spirit was guiding me. I can't wait to do it again. The menu:


Crostini di fegatini (the classic Tuscan chicken liver pate on toast that Angelo often served in the living room before big dinners--mine was tasty but the texture a bit off, with no food processor on hand)
Olive (an assortment of olives from a Greek market on 9th Ave.)


Then into the dining room for:

Cosciotto d'agnello arrosto sulle cipolline primavera (a departure from italian dishes, to Macedonia, Greece, thanks to Diane Kochilias' The Glorious Foods of Greece: leg of lamb on a bed of scallion greens and fresh mint)
Involtini di pollo < saltimbocca > (homage to something Angelo might have made: pounded chicken breast wrapped around prosciutto, Italian fontina and fresh sage, but with my own added touch of Southern cream gravy)
Torta pasqualina con carciofi (a Neopolitan Easter tradition, a savory cheesecake with artichokes encased in puff pastry)
Lasagne < amerdicane > (also an homage to the way Angelo made lasagna for parties, studded with slices of Italian sausage)
Patate al forno (roasted potatoes the way Angelo cooked them, dried to shoe leather in a slow oven but scrumptious)
Scarole coi pistacchi (Sicilian in honor of my Sicilian mother-in-law Maria, escarole with pistachios)
Asparagi (topped with fresh grated Parmigiano Reggiano and butter, from Emilia-Romagna)
Piselli (peas with onion, prosciutto and white wine)
Insalata verde (three salad-in-a-bags plus thinly-sliced mushrooms)
Vini Italiani e Siciliani, rosso e bianco

Pastiera di pasqua (an Italian classic candied fruit-studded not-too-sweet cheesecake, purchased on 9th Ave.) ed altri dolci (cakes, tarts and other sweets brought by generous guests)
Caffe, te, liquori

It was lovely, a fun gang, some new faces and some old, tons of fun, lots of work, a joy!

Starch 'n cheese
Mood:  a-ok
Topic: Cooking
I will never be too snobby to appreciate macaroni and cheese, in most any form.

In my book that combo of pasta and cheese baked together and topped with crispy crumbs surpasses most treats. I have had creamy versions at southern buffets, sweet macaroni pies in Jamaica and Barbados, had floury bland versions in cafeteria lines, and tasted plenty of the Kraft crap I give my kids sometimes (my own bowl sprinkled heavily with freshly ground black pepper), and ain't none of it bad.

Tonight at the risk of Rolando's wrath (he is lactose intolerant and usually I never make it unless he's not around) I had an urge to bake a little casserole-full to accompany a meal that would have been perfectly fine without it: oven-roasted natural local pork chops with lemon and Penzeys Bavarian seasoning, butter-roasted turnip slices, and (full disclosure) salad-in-a-bag.

My version of macaroni and cheese is like what I ate as a kid but with a couple of tweaks. As a kid I would sit at the table long after every one else had gone, digging into fourths and fifths of my mother's macaroni and cheese. I was a wisp of a skinny thing then, but insatiable when it came to that stuff.

For tonight's version, which the kids wouldn't touch, preferring Kraft as they do, I boiled a bit more than half a box of Barilla pipette until not quite done and tossed it with grated Cheddar and Cheshire (Vermont's Cabot hunters' extra sharp and pink crumbly English export, respectively), a dusting of Locatelli Romano, half a finely chopped onion and a little garlic that I had softened in butter in a hot little cast iron pan, hearty sprinklings of dry mustard and cayenne, and salt and pepper. I buttered my tiniest blue Le Creuset, threw it all in and filled not quite to cover with 2% milk. Then with the grater still handy I grated some really old Italian bread over the top, dotted it with butter like I might an apple pie and cooked it at 350-375 until it was golden on top. As sweet as the turnips were, as perfect as the local pork, had I been alone I might have eschewed them both and eaten the whole lot of that macaroni and cheese.

Sort of my mother's version, sort of mine, all comfort food and all good. Low carb and New Year's resolutionary diets be damned.

'Twas good
Now Playing: holiday sick cooking
Topic: Cooking
The weather held out and we did go to Mig's for his 40th--he and it were jolly. We got there after the meal, so although my sweet potato pie was among ten other pies and appreciated by some, my appetizer-intended pork and rabbit rillettes didn't get eaten, although I did save some at home that we've been digging into. Only slightly like processed chicken spread, they are lovely with horseradish mustard from Drier's in Michigan.

We had bought a turkey in case the weather was too bad to travel and we could still do our own Thanksgiving so I cooked it all up the next day, with the best stuffing I ever made: day old cornbread, three kinds of crusty bread, sausage (unfortunately Jones instead of Jimmy Dean), apple, toasted pecans--it was killer. Man oh man. The best part. Felt very silly to cook such a feast the day after, though. Shameful, sorta. Something I don't tell just anyone. But with all those leftovers I made killer turkey pot pie, turkey soup and turkey chili, all good.

Now I'm planning a Christmas Eve meal at La Nonna's. I'll bring marinated squid and codfish--the rest will be takeout, but it will be lovely to spend Christmas Eve with Maria...

Merry merry.

Here turkey, turkey
Mood:  don't ask
Topic: Cooking
If the snow holds off, we're going to my sister Calico's for Thanksgiving and to celebrate her husband Mig's 40th birthday. Rather than lay back and let someone else do all the cooking, he will spend the day doing one of the things he loves best, and one of the many things he does well, cooking a feast for a gang.

I love any excuse to cook (a baby shower, a New Year's party? and I get to bring something?--Hooray). And I love to cook Thanksgiving dinner, but with no dining room and only a tiny eating area in the kitchen full of two wriggly, strapping kids, I can't even have intimate dinner parties anymore, much less host holiday meals.

To Thanksgiving I will be bringing a terrine of some type, which may be oxtail if I can find some or maybe some rillettes instead. I have to shop and figure that out today as it's a bit of a project and needs to mellow a couple days before serving. I'll also be bring my killer sweet potato pie, which is not too sweet and has a flaky lard crust.

And a small turkey will hang around the Brizzi house in reserve in case the weather prohibits traveling two hours to Connecticut.

Here's my pie:

The Best Sweet Potato Pie Ever

Adapted from Big Mama's Old Black Pot (Stoke Gabriel Enterprises, 1987) by Ethel Dixon

2 medium to large sweet potatoes (1 and 1/2 lbs.)

for crust:

1 1/2 cups flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon sugar
1/2 cup chilled lard
1/4 cup water

for filling:

1/4 cup (1/2 stick) unsalted butter, softened
1 cup sugar
2 large eggs
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon nutmeg
1/8 teaspoon cloves
1 12 oz. can evaporated milk

Preheat oven to 375?F. Scrub sweet potatoes, trim pointy ends off, and bake on a tray for about an hour or so or until soft. Lower oven temp to 350?F.

Meanwhile, make pie crust. Mix flour, salt and sugar in a medium bowl, then add the chilled lard and work quickly with your fingers until lumps shrink to pea size. Add water and mix together. The dough will be crumbly, depending on the humidity, but pat it together to make a flattish disk. Wrap in plastic wrap or wax paper and stick in the fridge to chill for half an hour.

Roll out dough on a floured flat surface (cutting board, marble slab or dishtowel-topped countertop), and put in a 9-inch pie plate, pinching up the sides so it can hold more filling.

When sweet potatoes are cool enough to handle, mash well with a potato masher or fork in the same or a fresh medium bowl. Add filling ingredients and mix well. A whisk is good. Pour into pie crust and bake until firm, about 60-70 minutes.

Like pea soup ...
Mood:  rushed
Now Playing: ...Love pea soup.
Topic: Cooking
Forget about the Exorcist; split pea soup is anything but scary. Simple, frugal and rib-stickingly good, yes. Gross, never. There is little better on a cold October night when the spooks are looming.

I started mine today with a soffritto of onion, carrot, celery and garlic that softened in warm olive oil. Then I added about half a bag or so of split peas, stirred, added bay leaf, small handful of thyme sprigs, two small smoked pig hocks, lots of water, simmered for a very long time.

Later added diced red potato (1) to thicken, later still 1/3 of a cabbage, diced (which I don't usually include but hey it was there and available, begging to be used), seasoned and simmered more.

Last thing: lots of diced old Bronx bread (as in Arthur Avenue, one of New York's finest old Italian neighborhoods) sauteed with butter and olive oil in my biggest cast iron skillet. When crispy, heat off, and in went minced parsley and lots of crushed garlic to toss as the cubes cooled.

Sprinkled croutons liberally over deep shallow bowl of soup. Man oh man. Thick. Good. Pea-y.

Happy Halloween.

Denial in the bedroom
Mood:  hug me
Topic: Cooking
I don't know why I haven't come to terms with it yet. It was in the low 40s this morning and I still haven't put the flannel sheets on the bed. My nightwear is still a long T-shirt, flip flops and a seersucker bathrobe. Neither the flannel nightshirt, the fleece robe, nor the fuzzy slippers have yet to make an appearance.

But in the kitchen and on the patio I seem to have accepted that cold weather is here. I haven't grilled anything for a while, and I stopped feeding my garden a while back even though it's still producing splindly tomatoes, peppers and chard. I'm making soups and stews and roasting things. The other day I made a killer, hearty, rib-sticking Ukrainian borscht, similar to the one in the Russian chapter of Jeff Smith's Immigrant Ancestors cookbook). Tomorrow will be an African peanut stew with Gippert's chicken.

I may not have put the kids' bathing suits away yet, but I'm cranking out that winter fare with no trouble at all.

Sage old age
Mood:  not sure
Topic: Cooking
It's said that with age comes wisdom, a thought surely invented only to console. The extinction of so many brain cells seems to counteract any wise thoughts that might come along. However, I realized this morning as I cooked myself a scrambled egg, that after about thirty years of doing it I have finally figured out that if I don't put the egg in the pan until after the toast has been toasted and buttered, I won't face a plate of cold eggs.

My method is unlike anyone else's but the absolute only way I like them. I have to use a certain 7-inch well-seasoned cast iron pan, no other pan will do, and I set the gas flame at just above 2. Then I let the pan get good and hot, toss in a pat of butter, and tilt the pan to spread it around as it sizzles. As soon as the sizzle subsides but before the butter burns, I break in the egg, sprinkle it with salt, pepper and Tabasco, and stir it up with a fork.

I am never wearing my watch when I scramble an egg so I don't know how many seconds it takes to cook, but it is surely very few. When it's ready, it has just barely lost its runniness and much of the white and yellow is still distinct.

For me that is scrambled egg perfection, but I know that many food experts and egg aficionados would vehemently disagree, including the one I live with.

Am I wise now? Maybe not, but I have finally learned to make scrambled eggs exactly the way I like them.