La Superior, Brooklyn

La Superior –

295 Berry St., Williamsburg, Brooklyn
(between 2nd St & 3rd St)
Brooklyn, NY 11211

(718) 388-5988

Hours: Mon-Sun. 12:00 p.m. – 12:00 a.m.

The exterior of La Superior doesn’t strike the eye as extraordinary.  The name is scrawled in a black diagonal cursive across a white brick building highlighted by sharp red awnings.  On the evening of our visit, the air temperature was biting cold. Fortunately, the interior of restaurant was warm, friendly and entirely unrushed.  Instead of being greeted and seated, a young man with a lumberjack style beard gave us the “choose wherever you want to sit” game show hostess open arm gesture.  It was about 10:30p.m. At this time, we only had to contend with three other two tops, which worked to our advantage since the space would only accommodate about twelve other diners.

Everything about the space, from the hastily applied, slightly silvered organic motif wall paper, to the light globes hanging from cord suspensions, made the restaurant seem like an abandoned corner of an old thrift store.  The who-really-cares? attitude was reinforced by checkered table coverings, paper napkins stuffed into improvised holders and salt shakers which closely resembled plastic lime juice containers.

Service was prompt and unrushed.  Upon seating we were presented menus and two tall glasses of water without ice.  Since the place is BYOB, I planned ahead and pulled out a bottle of ale.  Without being asked, the waiter quickly brought two additional rocks glasses to the table.  The entire menu fit on one side of a laminated sheet of paper.  It was composed of choice appetizers, tacos, entrees and desserts.  An additional slip of paper with specials was also presented.  While the options were limited, it was obvious great care had been taken in crafting the selections.  I was surprised to see a number of offerings of oddities like pig’s feet and brain on the menu.  This makes the choosing twice as difficult for those who like rare options.  After debating into overtime, our order was taken and quickly relayed to the kitchen in full voice.  While we sipped our beer, I fell into the trance imparted by the relaxed environment and the experimental electronic sounds being piped through the speakers.

First the Guacamole arrived, quickly followed by the Ezquites.  The guacamole was light and moist, topped with a generous portion of tomatoes, onions and fresh cilantro.  It was also accompanied by still-warm tortilla chips, a pleasant sign of attention to detail.  Being a bit of a purist, I appreciated that the mashed avocado remained intact instead of being pre-mixed with the other accoutrements.  The Ezquites, traditionally corn sheered directly off the cob, was served in a slightly larger than Dixie sized plastic cup with generous dollops of cheese, mayo and sour cream.  A brave lime was wedged in between the trifecta of fattiness.  We were instructed to turn the cup over into a waiting robin’s egg blue, enameled receptacle.  Both appetizers were, in fact, served in these almost humorous metal containers which looked as if they had been stolen directly from a child’s 1950s camping gear set.

In a short while, Gorditas de Requeson, a dish which turned out to be a heavenly home-made ricotta stuffed inside a warm corn pocket filled with cilantro, and a single Taco Pavo Escabeche was brought to the table.  The gordita was light but indulgent.  It imparted a full mouth feel and a warm finish that tasted something like fresh buttered biscuits.  The taco was a beautifully plated, tiny corn tortilla topped with a puddle of black bean puree.   Stacked on top of the beans was a mix of minced turkey and a tangy escabeche sauce.  All was then highlighted with sautéed onions, peppers and a sprig of fresh oregano.  I almost didn’t catch the humor in the presentation until my friend pointed out that the dish was being served on an orange plastic plate, a detail I had missed entirely.  Fortunately, the flavor of the taco was deep, savory and slightly broken by bits of the fresh corn tortilla.  It was served with a side of sauce our waiter warned us was probably the “hottest thing we’d ever try.”  While it did have a nice kick of heat, it certainly did not send me over the edge I was hoping for.

The last round arrived to a now merrily dish-crowded table.  The waiter nimbly shuffled a plate here and picked a basket up there to free a bit of room for Calamares in Su Tinta and Cebollitas Cambray.  The first dish was squid cooked delicately in its own ink.  While the presentation was unremarkable, a plop of black bands on a disk of white rice, the calamari was cooked just right – soft but respectfully chewy.  Unfortunately, other than the murky black sauce, there were no flavors that stood out to elevate this particular dish beyond ordinary.  The cebollitas, on the other hand, while anonymous in their simplicity, were explosive in their flavor.  Five simple grill marked stems were lined parallel to one another on a blue plate and encircled by lime wedges.  The server instructed us to eat them with all the lime juice and lots of salt.  His recommendation produced bite after bite of a flavor that opened up pockets of summer sunshine in the brain.  Before the plate was empty, we had already ordered another.

The dining experience at La Superior left my friend and me feeling deeply satisfied and somewhat whimsical for the streets we had never walked in Mexico.  Before exiting back into the night, we paid a bill that left us with nothing but praise for such an establishment.  With a focus on food this good and at prices uncommon in New York City, surely we felt this wouldn’t be the last time we walked through the doors.

Pulino’s Midnight Burger

Consuming a late night burger at the newly minted Pulino’s is a literal gastronomic race to the finish line.  The gimmick is, beginning at midnight, the eatery/bar/pizzeria only turns out 30 of these late night meat wedges to the liquor soaked masses.  If you happen to secure one, you can count yourself among the soon to be throng of burger biters searching for the next big thrill.  However, to even set foot upon the stage of ordering, one must first compete with both foodie fanatics and those yearning to bask in the glow of the newest scene created by the noteworthy Keith McNally of Balthazar and Pastis fame.

‘Pulino’s Midnight Cheeseburger’ is certainly going to be talked about.  First, let’s begin with the very physical description.  The secret meat combination arrives brownish gray in color topped with plenty of caramelized onions and a thin slice of white, non distinct cheese – likely a provolone of sorts.  All is held together inside a slightly red-neck-barbecue type potato bread bun.  The bread itself was soft and tender but also squarish and slightly smaller than the adorned meat patty.  Everything came served with simple, skin-on fries and two small dishes of ketchup and mustard.  Overall, the presentation was nothing to sop up with the eyes but charm can come in many packages, especially those lacking pretentiousness.  My knife divided the burger down the center with great ease, almost an awkward simplicity.  Upon inspecting the stacked layers, I was surprised to find an entirely uniform color throughout the meat – that same grayish brown on the outside.  There was simply no gradient.  This uniformity goes for the texture of the patty as well.  It looked more like a thick slice of deli meat rather than the familiar grain of ground beef.

Still, within moments I was ruminating on a small bite.  It became quite clear the light toppings and stripped down presentation all reinforced the focus on the burger part of the burger.  Yet, this one was a peculiar animal.  My first thoughts were -  meaty, elegantly greasy and …off.  The mouth feel was satisfying but slightly springy.  The flavor and texture led me to believe the meat mixologist must have incorporated ample amounts of organ to create the final product.  This is where the conversation really began.  Before I had a chance to voice my opinion about the meat makeup of the burger, one diner at my table expressed that his taste buds were picking an abundance of liver signals.  Another slightly intoxicated member of the group, a prime example of the future target audience, seemed to grow more offended with each bite.  Claiming the burger was just “too meaty,” he stopped after his third attempt.  On the other hand, I found the meal to be delightful and deeply satisfying.  I found great contentment in the juicy, albeit unexpected, flavors and playful textures.  This was clearly an attempt to open up a new corner in the burger market and the chef was certainly playing my tune.  Still, judging by the mixed response at my table alone, it is a late night treat not everyone will enjoy.

The American Standard

As I look out on the rest of the US from my New York perspective, I see some trends developing I think define a new American way of looking at food.  Of course, I must keep in mind NYC is not quite representative of the rest of the country.  However, it is often the case the thoughts that originate in such large centers of population and commerce have far reaching, trickle-down type effects.  Here, I am able to see many positives and negatives.  I would like to highlight a few below.

To begin, I would like to discuss one food movement New Yorkers seem quite fond of these days.  It is the concept of taking very traditional lowbrow American cuisine and tweaking the ingredients and care of preparation to create something that will appeal to even to snobbiest foodies.  Take the very American dish of Mac and Cheese for example.  Most people grew up pouring macaroni shaped pasta noodles from a familiar blue box and then mixing a cheese flavored powder, along with milk and butter, to create a tasty, albeit, slightly strangely tangy dish commonly called mac and cheese.   It was/is a highly processed, highly standardized meal.  This, I think, can describe a lot of what comprises nostalgic American cuisine.  After all, it is a country built on industry, democracy and economy.  The cuisine largely reflects this.  Food has traditionally been praised more for its reliability and affordability rather than its flavor.  A dish needed to be consistently decent, or at the very least, edible.  It was only on rare occasions that the food needed to taste exceptional.  These rare times were then limited to special  events such as Thanksgiving, Christmas or, perhaps, the occasional summer barbecue.

Really, it all comes into line in the American standard.  Fast food produces consistent sized burgers served in standard size burger buns topped with equal portions of onions and pickles which are then completed with measured dollops of ketchup and mustard.  Variety has never been a national goal in the United States; it’s appearance is something more of a fluke, a rare exception.

This is the American food history, a short term method of feeding the masses with filling food that exists somewhere in the purgatory of flavor.  It’s neither good nor bad.  Rather, it’s safe and cost effective.  Clearly though, a new age has dawned on this great land and more and more people are becoming increasingly conscious of what they put past their tongues and into their stomachs.  The most common question these days is, “Why?”  Why exactly does one continue to eat the same foodstuffs their parents ate?  Is the food they are purchasing adequately nourishing their bodies while simultaneously filling their soul.  Are they feeling full-filled?  With everything being questioned these days, it is only a natural progression that the cuisine of this changing land is also being re-imagined.

The first evidence of change actually comes directly from the land, or more appropriately, the American farm.  In the old days, in the old ways, this humble spot was praised as the root of progress and forward thinking.  Industry and invention infiltrated even the lowliest farmer’s crop rows and helped to create a level of abundance and production that had never before been seen on the face of the earth.  Of course, it could be argued this production could only be achieved through the use of artificial means and the subjugation of farmers and peoples the world over.  Nevertheless, it did give the average American consumer the ability to purchase staples like bread, eggs and milk at low prices never before imagined.  It gave immigrant people from all corners of the globe a reason to embrace and praised this land of wonder.

Things have changed.  People have changed.  The world has changed.  More importantly though, ways of thinking have changed.  These days, the question of sustainability is on peoples’ minds and peoples’ tongues.  Is it possible to continue farming using the old factory methods if such practices require thousands of gallons of fossil fuels per acre?  And what about the health of the people?  Certainly, their stomachs are being filled up, but are their bodies being nourished?  Are their souls even being considered?  Yes, thinking has changed.  One great example is the surge in organic produce and the willingness of the average American to spend more and more money to get it.  What had previously been accepted as the great denominator, the lowest possible purchase price, has been disproved by evidence that the common folk will use their dollar to vote for a new definition of quality and health.  Change can also be seen in the great proliferation and praise of the once lowly farmer’s market.  How quickly this simple concept moved from being the poor man’s grocery to the gourmet chef’s best friend.  Yes, the farmer’s market is now an American fetish, seen as something of preserved nostalgia rather than a means of obtaining simple food.  After all, where else can one purchase eggs from real chickens or apples picked fresh from the tree?  Where else can city folk get the chance to talk to a real live farmer?  Crazy to think it has come to this, perhaps, but still very true.  It is one of the few chances most people get to connect with the places and people who produce the food.

Of course, when one begins to rethink the root of food production, the rest of the organism is also called into question.  Who is bringing our food to us and where is it coming from?  While it was once considered a great achievement to be able to have strawberries in January, now such a practice is being second guessed.  Aside from the immediate flavor gratification, some are asking what has gone into bringing those berries to the table?  The answer seems to be a combination of many high carbon, high energy factors such as planes, trains and underpaid workers on far corners of the globe.  Just because we Americans can get whatever we want when we want doesn’t mean we should.  And who is actually profiting from our food distribution methods?  Is that much romanticized worker, the farmer, actually benefiting?  Sadly, it doesn’t seem to be so.  In fact, very little money appears to actually make its way into the little guy’s pocket.  Rather, the big corporations who are able to coordinate such grand worldwide food ballets are the ones benefiting the most.  Naturally, this practice is now being challenged.

While there are still other steps in the chain, change can be seen in the final step as well, the one in which food is actually brought to the table.  Unsurprisingly, it is the most visible and the most romantic example of food being brought into our lives.  At the moment when food is tickling the taste buds and actually exchanging its nourishment with the cells of the body, it is at this moment our thoughts actually become tangible.  Some people are choosing to change the organically produced produce they purchase directly from their farmer at his own market into something consciously spectacular.  Though some great process of alchemy, chickens still become beautifully roasted, greens and beans make savory side dishes and cream still gets churned into something cold and sweet.  And let’s get back to that Mac and Cheese for a moment, shall we?  Today’s American chefs are using hand made pasta, covering it in choice artisanally produced organic cheeses and cream and creating dishes that are incredibly familiar but extraordinarily delicious.   All this can be done with a clear conscience without sacrificing a creative palate.  Good direction America.

Tried and True

Lately I’ve grown a bit tired of the repertoire of meals coming out of my kitchen.  Like most people, I have certain tried-and-true dishes I tend to rely on again and again.  Granted, they are not the typical American fare like spaghetti or meatloaf.  They are strange.  They are exotic.  They are rather unique.  My dishes are a combination of strange cravings, worldly inspiration and  bit of artistic inspiration.  I think I like them so much because they are uniquely me and always elicit the “ooohs and ahhhs” every cook loves to hear.  Perhaps transcribing them in full here will allow me to both share them with the world and help me to move onto new things.

For some reason, I developed a taste for fish early on.  This is actually a bit surprising since seafood in anything other than the form of a stick was a rare occasion in my family home while growing up.  Nevertheless, I always recognized the health benefits of fish so I began experimenting with all manner of sea creatures as soon as I had my own kitchen.  My favorite, mostly because of its availability and baking resilience, quickly became salmon.  It always seems to be quite forgiving and delicious.  Additionally, in terms of texture eating, I adore anything with a fatty texture.  So you see, for me, salmon is a wonder fish.  When I first began preparing  salmon, I simply rolled it in olive oil, salt, pepper and perhaps some freshly chopped toppings such as onions, garlic or rosemary.  Over time though, I was looking for something a bit more daring and something that would look more presentable on a plate.  One day, while sitting at a restaurant in Chicago’s Chinatown, inspiration fell into my lap in the form of a menu.  In it were a variety of fusion dishes full of all sorts of interesting new ideas.  The one that tickled my fancy most was an entrée called “Wasabi Pea Crusted Salmon.”  While I didn’t come to the restaurant to eat, I continued to think about the idea for days after.  “What a fabulous pairing,” I thought.  “Who would have imagined bringinging two such wonderful flavors together on the same plate?”  It really wasn’t a matter of choice at that point.  Though I didn’t have a recipe and had never cooked with wasabi peas before, I knew I had to try.  The first place I looked was, of course, the internet.  Unfortunately, the idea really did seem to be quite original.  There were a couple leads but nobody seemed to have the step by step instructions I was looking for at the time.  As they say, I had a need and so I was forced to get creative.  A new way of thinking began to develop before me.

My process began by browsing various recipes involving crusting a piece of salmon with all manner of things such as bread crumbs, seeds and nuts and even things like potato chips.  Naturally, every recipe had a slightly different cooking time so I decided to take an average.  My belief that salmon was quite forgiving seemed to be confirmed.  While some recipes involved egg washing (similar to the process of making French toast) and breading, I decided I would just stick to the simple concept of olive oil, salt and pepper and then roll the moist fish filet in crushed wasabi peas.

My first hurdle was finding a way to sufficiently crush the little green pellets to an acceptable crumb with which I could coat the fish.  My original idea was to use a food processor.  Simple, I thought.  However, the hardness and dryness of the peas seemed to make them impenetrable to the whirring blades of the machine.  They jumped around a lot and made a frightful noise but the end product was a food processor still full of whole peas – not at all the fine crust with which I needed to properly dress my salmon.  At this point, it looked as though I was going to have to resort to some old fashioned elbow grease.  So I pulled out a couple of Ziploc bags (two in case one was punctured) and poured my wasabi peas inside.  Then I pulled out a rolling pin and had an anger management session on the bag.  When the peas were sufficiently pummeled, I happily poured a beautiful crusty green crumb into a waiting bowl.  The stage was set.  So was the recipe.  It is as follows:

Wasabi Pea Crusted Salmon

1 lb fresh salmon filet(wild is both more flavorful and more pink in color)

2 cups green wasabi peas (avoid varieties with MSG)

¼ cup extra virgin olive oil

salt and pepper to taste

Begin by preheating the oven to 400 degrees Fahrenheit.  Next, pulverize wasabi peas in any manner necessary to reduce them to a fine crumb.  (You can adjust to your texture preference; sometimes a bit more chunky is nice for added crunch).  Remove fish from packaging and rinse under water.  Pat dry with paper towel.  Place ½ of olive oil in the bottom of a baking dish and place fish skin side down in dish.  Roll filet in oil to sufficiently coat.  Return fish to skin side down.  Sprinkle salt and pepper on top.  Cover fish in wasabi pea crumbs. Drizzle remaining olive oil over fish.  Move baking dish to oven for 15 – 20 minutes.

Really it is that simple.  One thing to keep in mind is that after the fish is removed from oven, it will still continue to cook in the dish.  Most people assume 15 minutes is not long enough but it usually is.  I also occasionally, us a method of topping the fish with crumbs rather that just rolling the fish filet in them.  For me, a thin coating just is not enough.  Perhaps this is merely a result of only using olive oil.  Regardless, the topping method works wonderfully.  Another thing some people are worried about is the heat wasabi peas usually have.  Baking, however, seems to remove the heat almost entirely, so no fears there.  The end result is a beautiful, seemingly exotic dish that is incredibly easy to prepare.  It’s also a feast for the eyes with the juxtaposition of the soft, pink fish tucked inside a green, crispy crust.  Grab a fork and enjoy!

Another one of my favorite go-tos is Chicken Coconut Curry.  However, this is a bit of a misnomer since no actual curry powder is used.  To be fair, the word “curry” actually implies a blend of spices, not the madras curry powder most people are familiar with.  It is the same reason curries can come in all manner of colors and spiciness and why Thai curries are nothing like Indian curries.  In fact, anyone can make their own “curry” with just a mortar and pestle.  My Chicken Coconut Curry is a simple dish made up more of vegetables than chicken.  It is incredibly savory and guaranteed to warm up the heart of any guest.  The recipe is as follows:

Duffy’s Chicken Coconut Curry

2 onions

1 green pepper

1 red pepper

1 sprig fresh rosemary

2 cloves garlic

¼ cup extra virgin olive oil

2 cans coconut milk (full fat of course – it’s sooo good for you)

2 cups pulled chicken meat.

1 Tbsp. ground tumeric

2 Tbsp. ground cumin

salt and pepper to taste

Begin by sautéing onions, garlic, rosemary and peppers in olive oil in a pan.  You can cut your vegetables however you’d like but I prefer to leave my onions in rings and my peppers in long strips.  Mince garlic.  Cook onion, garlic and peppers until onions are translucent and begin to carmelize.  Add chicken meat.  Add tumeric, cumin, salt and pepper.  Allow to cook for another couple of minutes.  Add coconut milk to pan and allow to stew and simmer for another ten minutes.  Taste and adjust spices accordingly.  Remove from heat and enjoy.

As should be expected, this is not the end of the line for me.  I normally like to raise my game a level by spooning heaping helpings of the chicken coconut curry into freshly baked and split sweet potatoes.  I also sometimes like to add fresh basil to the stew just after the heat is turned off for a more Thai flavor.  Regardless, the curry will be delicious and extremely satisfying.

A third dish I’m quite fond of is a roast chicken.  Actually, this is the only dish I prepare regularly that really is an American classic.  While I will attempt all manner of spice combinations on my bird, my favorite is a simple bird topped and infused with rosemary, garlic and butter.  The result is a sure crowd pleaser and always tastes like mom used to make it – even if, such as in my case, mom never did.  The recipe is as follows:

Rosemary Roast Chicken

1 chicken

4 sprigs fresh rosemary

4 cloves garlic (feel free to use more if you’re a junkie)

¼ cup butter at room temp

¼ cup extra virgin olive oil

salt and pepper to taste

Preheat oven to 375 degrees Fahrenheit. Begin by mincing garlic and 3 sprigs of fresh rosemary.  Place in bowl and add plenty of salt and pepper.  Rinse chicken, including inner cavity and pat dry with paper towel.  Place in cooking dish.  Grab gobs of butter and massage the begeezus out of the bird.  Make sure to get butter under the skin as well as on top.  Repeat with garlic, rosemary, salt, and pepper mixture.  Pour olive oil over bird and rub this in as well.  Allow bird to glisten.  Place dish in oven for 1 – 1 ¼ hours.  Make small incision to check for doneness.

Now, my favorite things to serve with a roast chicken are roast starches.  One of my favorite combinations is sweet potatoes and beets.  Other go-tos are carrots, potatoes, celery roots, or cubed squashes.  Regardless of your selections, these vegetables can be chopped, rolled in olive oil and sprinkled with salt and pepper and then thrown in the same dish as the bird to cook.  The same amount of time and temperature generally works for everything.

With a bit of luck, this listing of my favorite go-to meals can now expand and develop.  It is my sincere hope that someone enjoys them as much as I do.

Boxing Day Brunch

Most years, I  come home for Christmas with a desire to see not just a few, but rather, all my friends.  This means a race-like, week-long event in which I travel to as many houses and parties as possible, spend a short time, hug, eat something quickly and then feel totally exhausted by the end of my “vacation.”  Well, it dawned on me a few years ago that an easy way to solve this predicament would be to invite everyone over to my house.  Unfortunately, my parents’ home is quite a distance from the majority of my friends’ homes and so I needed a good incentive.  I also realized I frequently talk to my friends about my love of food and cooking.  Yet, most of them claimed to never have sampled my cuisine.  Then it dawned on me that I could, in fact, have it all.  I could plan a great gathering featuring a wonderful meal that all my friends would want to travel a great distance to attend during the Christmas holiday.  The only question left then was, what day?  I was fully aware a time such as the holidays created scheduling conflicts for many people.  After much deliberation, I finally settled on the day after Christmas – a time when most people are still in town and usually have nothing but resting to do.  In England, they refer to this day after as Boxing Day.  And so, I decided to create my annual Boxing Day Brunch.

This past year, or the Christmas of ’09, was actually the second installment of the tradition.  The first year was ’07.  I decided to put the brunch on hiatus for ’08 and used the excuse of “Going to Vietnam.”  I guess most people let me get away with that one.  Regardless, the party was back with a vengeance this past year.  To get the ball rolling, I sent out Facebook invitations a couple of weeks ahead of time.  Now, I think in the future I need to send out both Facebook and Evite invitations.  For some reason, probably because of the mass number of event invitations on that site, people don’t pay enough attention to the events that pop up there.  Maybe this is just because I am on the cusp of the technology generation.  They say kids today don’t really use email, but my friends can’t seem to quit it.  Most days, it is the main thing I check.  Regardless, judging by the enthusiastic responses, I could tell the invitations were received with warm anticipation.  There was much to think about.

While I’m not necessarily a natural born planner, I love ruminate on food ideas.  My antennae go up and I quickly begin to absorb inspiration from the world; friends, internet, radio, television, all play their part in helping me come up with a meal plan.  Of course, when I’m around, one cannot have a traditional, predictable meal.  Variety is my favorite game.  Screw the spice of life, for me spice IS life.  If I’ve had it before, I don’t want it again.  We only have one life time here people, so let’s make the most of it!  With this in mind, I began to formulate some ideas.

First, I love the idea of brunch.  When I think about brunch I first think about lovely carb loads like waffles, French toast and pancakes.  To me, these wonderful, bouncy sweet treats are like a hug from the inside.  Even though I rarely eat such things, the idea, nonetheless, is monumental in my mind.  So I began by planning something cakey and delicious.  Now the first time I served a Boxing Day Brunch I made gingerbread waffles.  They were all sorts of spiced, filling and delicious.  I loved the idea of a twist on an old favorite but I didn’t want to repeat.  So this time, I decided on pancakes.  I also had been thinking about incorporating sweet potatoes into my meal so I began the process of searching for a recipe that incorporated them.  Fortunately, I’m not the only one who has had this idea and I soon found a recipe which I tweaked a bit.  I also added pecans to the batter.  In case you are wondering, the recipe is as follows:

Sweet Potato Pecan Pancakes

Ingredients

• 3/4 pound sweet potatoes – (or about 1 cup)
• 1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
• 3 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
• 2 eggs, beaten
• 1 1/2 cups milk
• 1/4 cup butter, melted
• ½ cup chopped pecans

Directions

1. Bake sweet potatoes in oven at 400 for about one hour.  Remove from oven and allow to cool.  Remove skins, chop, and mash.
2. In a medium bowl, sift together flour, baking powder, salt, and nutmeg. Mix mashed sweet potatoes, eggs, milk and butter in a separate medium bowl. Blend sweet potato mixture into the flour mixture to form a batter.  After all is mixed, add pecans.
3. Preheat a lightly greased griddle over medium-high heat. Drop batter mixture onto the prepared griddle by heaping tablespoonfuls, and cook until golden brown, turning once with a spatula when the surface begins to bubble.

To be honest, the recipe came out wonderfully but I did need to add about ½ cup of extra milk to thin the batter a bit.  I like my pancakes thick but the original batter was approaching something more along the lines of cookie batter.  Thinning was necessary.  And I must emphasize just how wonderful the addition of nutmeg was in the recipe.  Normally, this simple spice doesn’t stand out to me but this time, it certainly elevated the sweet potato pancakes to a whole new level.  I might even use more next time.

Now, I couldn’t expect my guests to eat dry waffles and be content and cheer at my innovation.  Everyone likes some accompaniments and so I tried to deliver.  The first thing I did was whip up a giant bowl of whipping cream with a generous amount of vanilla and some honey.  Anyone who knows me knows I’m not a big fan of processed sugar and like to avoid it when possible – which just so happens to be most of the time.  In something like whipping cream, honey does just as well and actually adds a gentle floral note to the fluff.  It’s simply gorgeous.  If you are interested in repeating my big bowl of creamy wonder, it’s as simple as one, two, three.  1. Pour heavy whipping cream into a bowl.  2. Add vanilla and honey to taste.  3.  Whip until cream puffs up and forms peaks.  But just make sure not to whip too long or it will go from cream to fluffy and then back to soupy.  Regardless, it will still taste great no matter what.  In my opinion, this really is all one needs to dress up the pancakes in style.  It allows the full flavor of the pancakes to come out while at the same time providing a scrumptious fatty mouth feel – so comforting and so damn tasty.

Of course, many people couldn’t imagine eating pancakes without some sweet syrup.  My aim is to please but I simply refuse to let my guests eat something that came out of a chemistry lab like high-fructose corn syrup.  No, at my brunch they are going to eat real maple syrup or nothing at all.  To be fair, though, real maple syrup can be quite pricey.  Fortunately, it was Christmas so expenses can be easily rationalized.  Still, I went with a cheaper version of maple syrup at Trader Joe’s.  While I would normally think Grade A would be the best, I opted for Grade B.  To my surprise, I liked the Grade B much more.  It was darker and had a much deeper flavor than the light Grade A version.  To add to the depth of flavor, I sent a couple of cinnamon sticks swimming in the syrup as I heated both in a pot on the stove.  Soon, there were full bodied aromas wafting through my home.

Now, when I cook, I like to channel my loved ones for inspiration.  One person I had been thinking a lot about was my little sister Meghan who would not be home for Christmas.  She happened to be out saving the world as a member of the Peace Corp. in Mozambique, Africa.  My little sister Megs is a wonderfully ambitious woman with a plethora of talents and abilities.  She is strong, determined and has very definite likes and dislikes.  When it comes to food, she knows what makes her happy – options.  Meghan likes to refer to her style as smorgasbord dining.  This basically means having a central theme or core element.  However, instead of focusing what’s on the main plate, to instead place the focus on many additional options and adornments.  Keeping this in mind, I decided to treat my guest to a breakfast burrito bar.  Now, I do not traditionally like the concept of buffets (I think a future post can provide further explanation).  I prefer quality over the very American concept of sheer quantity.  Today I was providing my guests with many high quality options, not just mass amounts of food.  Basically, it worked like this:

• First, each guest would choose one type of tortilla.  Their options were yellow stone ground corn, tan whole wheat or green spinach tortillas.  The spinach was by far the crowd favorite. After they made their selection, I placed the tortilla on a griddle to warm.
• Second, one egg was added to a frying pan and the guest had a further choice of smoked salmon, chicken anduille sausage, or black or pinto beans.  They could also choose any combination of the four if they so chose.  The proteins were scrambled and placed within the confines of the warm tortilla.
• Third the guests got to choose from a variety of fresh and prepared toppings such as: corn, guacamole, chipotle salsa, diced tomatoes, pineapple salsa, fresh cilantro, roasted red pepper and eggplant dip, artichoke hearts, green chilies, olive tapenade and even sweet potato puree.
• Finally, the guests were expected to enjoy and repeat the process as many times as their creativity and stomach desired.

Really, there’s nothing as satisfying to me as watching people stretch their imagination of food possibilities and then sit down happy and content as they munch away.  It’s kind of like a gift straight from my mind to their stomachs.  Delightful.

In order to continue expanding the Southern theme my meal was quickly developing, I decided to expand my repertoire and try something new.  Now, I love all things Southern but one of my favorite dishes is probably my favorite because it is such an oddity where I grew up – fried green tomatoes.  While almost no one dislikes fried food (if they are being honest, of course), it was rarely present in my diet as a child.  Perhaps this is why I like all things fried even more as an adult.  Really, it’s quite wondrous just how many things can be fried and made to taste good.  Apparently, green tomatoes are one of them.  Lately, at least since the movie of the same name came out, fried green tomatoes have taken on something of a fanciful air.  However, the practice of frying a green tomato developed as a necessity.  It was an attempt to make use of all of the tomatoes growing on a plant when it was overproducing.  Ahhh necessity, we all benefit.

Naturally, I couldn’t simply stick to the traditional recipe.  If it has my name on it there needs to be a twist.  Normally the process works a bit like this:  First, the tomatoes are sliced and dredged in flour.  Next they are submerged in an egg wash.  Third they are rolled in bread crumbs and/or cornmeal and some spices.  Finally, they are fried.  The first thing I modified in my recipe was the substitution of Japanese panko bread crumbs for the normal, boring stuff.  I love the crispy crunchiness of these little wonders traditionally used for tempura batter.  Second, I also used cornmeal and I made sure it was a medium grind variety to add extra crunch.  My next substitution was perhaps major and maybe even unprecedented.  Now, in the Chicagoland area, green tomatoes aren’t exactly common.  The best way to find them is to either grow them or purchase them at a local farmer’s market.  Neither of these are a possibility around Christmas time though so I was forced to get creative.  To solve this dilemma, some people choose to use hard red tomatoes.  To me, however, this entirely defeats the purpose of fried green things.

So I went to the grocery store to find inspiration.  I debated the idea of using eggplant; then again, the texture would be entirely off.  The second thing I considered was squash of some sort.  After all, these gems are readily abundant and I can’t seem to get enough of them.  On the other hand, the texture and color just wouldn’t be right.  Then, like a lightning bolt from heaven, the fluorescent of the supermarket illuminated my imagination and directed my attention to one produce alcove in particular.  This happened to be a grocery store that largely catered to a Mexican audience.  Next to the avocados and jalapenos, I noticed a bin of tomatillos wrapped in their tell tale papery skins.  My heart began to beat faster.  In many ways, tomatillos are used like tomatoes.  Once the outer covering is peeled back, it could easily be mistaken for a green tomato.  In reality though, the tomatillo is more closely related to the goose berry than nightshades.  Still, the idea of substituting one for the other in my mind was perfect.  Right color.  Right texture.  Nobody would know the difference if I didn’t tell them.  Naturally, I told everyone.

There I was making fried green tomatillos, assembly line style, for my boxing day.  I enlisted the help of my early arriving guests Michael and Vincent.  I sliced, Michael dipped, Vincent dredged and we all fried those little green gems to a perfect golden crispiness.  The end result was heavenly and a perfect comfort food on a cold winter’s day.  And since I have to take it one step further, I served them with a garlic mustard aioli.  Nummy.  In case you are looking for my particular recipe, it is as follows:

Fried Green Tomatoes/Tomatillos

Ingredients

• 4 large green tomatoes or tomatillos
• 2 eggs
• 1/2 cup milk
• 1 cup all-purpose flour
• 1/2 cup medium ground cornmeal
• 1/2 cup panko bread crumbs
• 2 teaspoons coarse kosher salt
• 1/4 teaspoon ground black pepper
• 1/8 teaspoon cayenne pepper
• oil or butter for frying

Directions

1. Slice tomatoes 1/2 inch thick. Discard the ends.
2. Whisk eggs and milk together in a medium-size bowl. Scoop flour onto a plate. Mix cornmeal, bread crumbs and salt and pepper on another plate. Dip tomatoes into flour to coat. Then dip the tomatoes into milk and egg mixture. Dredge in breadcrumbs to completely coat.
3. In a large skillet, add oil or butter and heat over a medium heat. Place tomatoes into the frying pan in batches of 4 or 5, depending on the size of your skillet. Do not crowd the tomatoes; they should not touch each other. When the tomatoes are browned, flip and fry them on the other side. Drain them on paper towels.

By this time, my brunch was feeling (and tasting) delightfully Southern.  You wouldn’t have been able to tell it, though, by the weather.  All around, big fluffy flakes were coming down in great globs from the sky.  Everything was coated in white.  Like the song goes, “Though the weather outside is frightful…”  inside it was truly magical and delightful.  A warm fire was started in the fireplace and guests began to arrive and mingle.  But I cannot forget my last couple of dishes.

For me, this day was all about comfort and I wanted to make sure I served up big heaping bowls.  To bring this idea further from theory to reality, I decided to toast up some home-made granola.  Now, I simply adore this food from the gods (or the hippies), especially when it’s served with decadent Greek yogurt.  So this too was on my menu.  I refuse to buy granola since it is so easy and so much better warm from the oven.  Additionally, it fills my home with deeply satisfying scents.  Naturally, it all begins with oats.  Basically, the recipe is pretty standard with the addition of a bit of oil, a bit of sweetener, nuts, dried fruit and just a touch of love.  Everything is then combined and mixed well before being loaded into baking dishes and popped into the over.  Fortunately, the basic recipe is easily manipulated and any combination of fruits and nuts can be used depending on one’s taste.  Of course, I like mine a bit exotic so I used black mission figs, dried blueberries, cashews and slivered almonds to turn up the Oooohs.  The result was decadent and magnificent.  It also makes a ton, so after it completely cools, you can seal it up and eat on it for days.  The recipe is as follows:

Mikey B’s Boxing Day Granola

Ingredients

• 8 cups rolled oats
• 1 1/2 cups wheat germ
• 1 1/2 cups oat bran
• 1 cup slivered almonds
• 1 cup chopped pecans
• 1 cup raw cashews
• 1 1/2 teaspoons salt
• 1/4 cup maple syrup
• 3/4 cup honey
• 1 cup expeller pressed canola oil
• 2 tablespoons ground cinnamon
• 1 tablespoon vanilla extract
• ½ cup chopped figs
• ½ cup dried blueberries
• ¼ cup raisins
• ¼ cup craisins

Directions

1. Preheat the oven to 325 degrees F (165 degrees C). Line two large baking sheets with parchment or aluminum foil.
2. Combine the oats, wheat germ, oat bran, and nuts in a large bowl. Stir together the salt, maple syrup, honey, oil, cinnamon, and vanilla in a saucepan. Warm over medium heat, then pour over the dry ingredients, and stir to coat. Spread the mixture out evenly on the baking sheets.
3. Bake in the preheated oven until crispy and toasted, about 20 minutes. Stir once halfway through. Keep an eye on granola at end to avoid any burning.  When finished baking, remove from oven and stir in the raisins or cranberries.  Allow to cool completely before storing in an airtight container.  Granola will clump and form chunks while it cools, not before

With the addition of the granola and Greek yogurt, my brunch was nearly complete.  But not before I added something extremely fresh to the mix.

Naturally, I designed a fruit salad just for the occasion.  While not typically considered a centerpiece, I like to think of a fruit salad as a color bouquet that should be both delicious and visually appealing.  I also like to make use of new and exciting combinations my guests have never tried before.  So on this special day, I decided to make a pineapple, pomegranate, and persimmon salad to which I added some plumb blackberries and then topped everything with chopped mint.  I mixed the pineapple, persimmon chunks, and half the pomegranate seeds in a bowl and then poured this onto a serving platter.  I then sprinkled the remaining pomegranate seeds over the fruit.  Next I gingerly placed the blackberries in strategic locations for maximum wow.  Finally, I peppered the whole dish with mint leaves to create an extremely beautiful, extremely tasty dish.

In the end, my guests were treated to a day of family, friends and very happy full bellies.  Throughout the day, the snow continued to fall encircling the home with a real winter wonderland.  Fortunately, the fire continued to crackle throughout the day and the only sounds that came from the people gathered was laughing and the tinkle of silver on glass.

A Few of My Favorite Things

Yesterday I was having brunch at a cute little restaurant called Tartine in the West Village of Manhattan, located at the corner of West 11 and West 4.  Basically, it is a French Bistro style joint serving savory breakfasts, delectable dinners and gorgeous pastries.  My friend ordered a salmon sandwich and I had a the chicken version.  My dish was complete with lettuce, chipotle mayo and a side of guacamole.  Both meals were served with a side of quite possibly the most perfect potatoes I’ve ever tasted – impossibly crispy on the outside and pillowy soft on the inside.  These gorgeous starchy gems were then topped with tomatoes, green onions and a rich hollandaise sauce.

I was surprised at my friend because he took no more than two minutes to decide what he wanted to eat.  I, on the other hand, probably clocked into somewhere closer to ten.  When I questioned him as to how he came to a decision so quickly, he explained it’s difficult for him to pass up salmon any time he sees it on a menu.  This then got me thinking about a conversation I’ve had on many occasions about the kind of things that draw us to make certain food choices at restaurants.  There are simply those key words that when we see printed on the menu, trigger all sorts of positive or negative responses in our brains.  Strangely enough,I  like to draw up a character profile based on one’s food choices.

I guess the only thing I know for sure are my own preferences and the foods I tend to be drawn toward.  So let’s launch into it, shall we?  I guess I can begin by breaking down my brunch that day.  One thing that really sucks me in is the use of Mexican/Latin flavors in Western food.  This means the inclusion of chipotle mayo and guacamole on my otherwise innocent chicken sandwich were instantly exciting to me.  Actually, anything including or made up of avocado is an draw for me.  There is just something truly magical about this green fruit composed of fatty flesh loaded with fiber and nutrients.  Growing up, my family never ate avocados.  In fact, they would have likely never appeared in our home had I not one day brought a couple home and mashed them according to what a friend had shown me.  My mom instantly loved the indulgent fullness of flavor and now guacamole is a staple in my parents’ home.  If there is one thing I love more than anything else, it’s introducing people (successfully) to new foods.  My formerly unadventurous family provides me plenty of opportunities.

Another thing I cannot seem to pass up on a menu is a sauce created in a non-traditional way or one incorporating a new twist on flavor.  The chipotle mayo which dressed my chicken sandwich is a perfect example.  Most of the time, the sauces are understated.  This is fine.  It’s more about the cook’s intention, their experimenting with flavor, that fascinates me.  I’m holding out for a burst of taste my tongue has never experienced before.  After all, it is all about the adventure in food, right?  Then again, this is not everyone’s cup of tea.  After all, I know many people look at a restaurant menu in hopes of finding something familiar and predictable.  To my mind though, this is one of the most absurd trains of thought possible.  In this one life, an individual can only experience a limited number of things.  So how can they fathom ordering the same dish again and again?  There is sooo much richness and depth to invest in.  Consistency boggles my food mind.

I digress.  There are many other things that make my eyebrows bristle when I see them.  A big one is any kind of squash or pumpkin.  Whether they are stuffed into soft pasta, pureed into a warming soup or cubed into a savory curry, I have a hard time resisting their dry texture and subtly sweet flavor.  I especially like it when the skin is not removed and there is the juxtaposition of dark rind next to orange or yellow flesh.  Of course, squash is fairly seasonal and I think it’s the memory of autumn that I like so much.  My mind goes swimming in pools of melted butter and brown sugar and my body feels warm all over.  I think of incredible, deep nourishment when I think of squash.

Of course, it’s hard to think about one starch without considering all the others.  Truly, I love them all.  Fortunately, one stands out above the rest.  I am crazy about sweet potatoes.  It’s also one of the reasons why I’m so thankful to be an American.  Of course, it could be argued that other cultures also have sweet potatoes.  Yet, they are just not the beautiful bright orange/red variety that cornered the American market and fascination so long ago.  Yes, after my world travels, I must say I feel very fortunate to be able to get American sweet potatoes whenever I want.  While I have always been fond of sweet potatoes, it is only now that I truly appreciate what I have.  Really, is there anything more comforting or more satisfying than warm sweet potatoes?  Their versatility is truly amazing and for the most part, unexplored.  They are great whole, mashed or sliced.  They are spectacular frenched and fried.  They also make great fillings for dumplings, pastas and pies.  Regardless of whether the dish is savory or sweet, these orange potatoes take the meal to a whole new level.

I’m also a little crazy about cabbage.  While most people wouldn’t give much thought to this cruciferous veggie, its subtlety and its texture are what, I think, make it a knockout.  Perhaps my own experience with cabbage is a bit new and perhaps this helps add to its excitement.  I’ve been eating it nearly every day for the past year.  Before this time, I had always consumed it in fairly predictable ways such as the occasional sauerkraut or kimchee and sometimes loaded into a tiny ramekin in the form of cole slaw.  I always liked it, but now I ask, why diminish the gorgeous crunchy texture it already has?  No!  Celebrate its bang by serving is freshly chopped with a bit of olive oil and lime juice.  Admittedly, it doesn’t have a strong flavor but it is loaded with vitamins, minerals and all around nutrition.  I’m just beginning to understand the beauty of this dense head-like vegetable.

Finally, I have a very strange relationship with eggplant.  Currently, I am in love with it, mostly for its texture.  I’m also intrigued by its versatility; how it is used in so many ways and ends up tasting so dramatically different depending on how it is prepared.  Who would imagine eggplant parmesan and babaganoush are both made from the same base?  I think I’m also in love with the appearance of this strange vegetable.  It’s normally a beautiful glossy purple appendage hanging scrotum-like from a sharp green claw (though I’ve also seen it in white or striped or splattered both colors).  When raw, it’s spongy and dry.  When cooked, it is soft and wet.  It’s a vegetable that is so strange and so satisfying.  I also say it’s a strange relationship because I’ve heard some bad things about its health properties.  Like many nightshades, there is a bit of controversy.  Some believe any nightshades – others being tomatoes and white potatoes – have negative properties and should be eaten rarely if ever.  But it’s hard to imagine my diet without them.  So for now, I’ll just continue eating them for reasons of pleasure.

Yes, many favorites come and go.  For now, these are a few of my favorite things.

Experimenting in the Kitchen

They say necessity is the handmaiden of invention and I can definitely see how this is true in the world of food.  For instance, yesterday I was running low on things in the fridge and the pantry.  I was going to go the store but it was cold and I was feeling rather lazy.  Additionally, I’ve been wanting to clean both out, ya know, completely, before I restocked.  Most people understand what that is like.  At one point or another, we all succumb to an impulse buy which at the time sounded like a wonderful, healthy idea.  However, after months of just sitting on the shelf, it becomes clear perhaps our money could have been better spent elsewhere.  This is often the case with me.  Seems I have a great tendency to want to but just about everything food related I am unfamiliar with.  This means I have a plethora of spices, beans, noodles and sauces I’ve used maybe once and then left behind.

Meat also tends to be a bit of an issue for me.  To be honest, I rarely prepare meat for myself.  When I do eat meat, it is usually only in very small quantities.  I don’t know what it is but the taste and the texture don’t do a whole lot for me.  I find myself much more drawn to the richly textured and colored foodstuffs like fruit and vegetables.  This means I have a bit of a backlog of meat in my freezer.  I’m a bargain shopper but I don’t really eat a lot.  This means it is always a compromise when I want to buy something for the carnivore in me.  Meat is much cheaper in larger quantities so I usually opt for the large package and then just put single servings in small Ziploc bags for when I need them.  Honestly though, I really only prepare meat about once every two weeks.  The equations works a bit like this: I’ve bought a couple pounds of meat about three times in the past six months.  I use about 4 oz every couple of weeks.  The result is too much good food getting freezer burnt in my fridge.  So now we get to yesterday and my cooking for the sake of using up a good portion of my back stock.

My original plan was to make some white chili.  This normally is made with white beans, green chilies and chicken.  It’s a nice variation from the usual chili con carne and I had some chicken I wanted to use up.  Like I said earlier though, it was cold and I had plenty of stuff in my cupboard to use up.  So I began snooping around, lifting up bags, searching behind bottles for inspiration to create a new dish.  First I found a can of black beans.  This could work for some chili.  Then again, I wasn’t sure if those beans were actually mine or my roommates.  After searching a bit further, I realized I had an unopened container of green French style lentils hiding beneath my spices.  Ah hah, I thought, this could be a very chili like base.  So after some rinsing and the addition of some water, there was soon a pot of beans cooking on the stove.  Additional searching revealed a two onions that must have been hanging out in my pantry for at least a couple of months.  These then began their next stage of life swimming in olive oil in a separate pan on the stove.  What else could I add?  Well, I had some carrots that needed to be used so I peeled them, chopped them and added them to the stewing lentils.  I also unwrapped my chicken and popped the chunks into the caramelizing onions.  Things were starting to smell good.

The next thing I wanted was some a unique spice blend to add to my dish.  And I certainly had quite a few spices that needed to be used.  Additionally, I wanted to use my mortar and pestle (or pilar in Portuguese)  as I had seen them often do it Thailand.  So this too became a journey into the unknown.  The first things I added were about a teaspoon of whole peppercorns, two tablespoons of ground cumin and about a half teaspoon of red pepper flakes.  To this I then added three cloves of fresh garlic and probably a bit too much salt.  As I ground this mixture, it began to form a bit of a paste.  I was very excited by this.

Now, in one of the recipes I had been looking at, the white chili called for some ground coriander.  In the past, I haven’t had much luck with coriander.  For some reason, the flavor is just off.  There are very few things that turn me off but this flavor is one of them.  Strange too seeing as how much I adore fresh coriander.  Then again, to be fair, ground coriander comes from the seed pods and these, to me, have an entirely different flavor profile – a bit more citrusy and a bit more pointed.  But I had bought a container full of them and I though, “Why not?”  So I threw a couple of teaspoons of the seed pods into my mortar and continued to grind away.  Here was my problem; I didn’t grind them as much as I should have ground them.  According to most spice experts, coriander is a great way to brighten up the flavor of a dish.  However, it seems biting into a less-than-fully-ground pod is a bit like biting into a whole peppercorn.  The flavor is just too overwhelming.  Next time I must remember – ALWAYS FULLY GRIND CORIANDER PODS.  Or else!

To say the least, I was thrilled to see my freshly ground spice mix sitting so pasty in the mortar.  My chicken continued to cook and my lentils were looking just about ready.  When my chicken was just about ready, I added the spice mixture and continued to cook it.  Meanwhile, I wanted to use up some leftover seaweed I had in my cupboard, so I immersed what was left in the old package in some water.  It quickly absorbed the water and bounced into its ever-ready gelatinous form.

Soon the chicken smelled wonderful and ready and so I began adding the lentil and carrot mixture to my pan of chicken.  I also added the seaweed at this time and mixed everything together.  While the appearance wasn’t the most exciting, ranging from gray to green to off-white, the little flecks of orange helped to bring it along.  Regardless, the mixture smelled great.  I tasted it expecting to need to add more salt but was surprised to find I might have actually made it a bit too salty.  Normally, I find bean dishes need more salt than other dishes but this one did not.

In the end, the dish turned out to be quite satisfying but nothing I would want to serve to guests.  The main problems were:

1. The chicken was cooked too long, too tough

2. I kept biting into large chunks of unappetizing coriander pods

3. The seaweed added a strange flavor but actually a good texture.  It helped to thicken the sauce

4. Too salty

5. The color was unappetizing

The main positives were:

1. The spices actually turned out quite good.  I cannot wait to experiment with new combinations and colors

2.  The lentils and chicken paired well together.

3.  It was wonderfully satisfying on a cold day.

Let’s start with a classic!

While I’ve done lots of writing so far, this is my first attempt to post on the blog.  Please excuse the rough nature of this start up.  Certainly I will refine it as time goes by.  Let’s start it off with a recipe, shall we?

Beef Stew

2 lbs stew meat

2 tbs oil/butter (butter!)

8 cups liquid

- 2 cups red wine

- 6 cups beef broth

½ tsp black pepper

1 cup chick pea flour

1 cup small potatoes

1 celery root

1 cup brussel sprouts

1 cup tiny button mushrooms

1 cup pearl onions

4 carrots cut into 1 in. pieces

4 cloves garlic

fresh rosemary

fresh thyme

1 bayleaf

6 T arrowroot powder mixed with H2O

So this was the recipe for the stew I attempted the other evening.  Basically I took an already established recipe off line and tweaked it.  I added a few defining ingredients and tried my best to up the flavor as other people had recommended.  It turned out quite good with the addition of plenty of additional starch and lots more thickening powder than had originally been called for.  Actually, the original recipe called for corn starch.  I had been warned against corn starch but I think I’ll try it the next time.  One thing I learned from going about following this recipe but then tweaking it in so many ways is that it’s now difficult to point to what exactly I didn’t like about it.  First let’s launch into how I actually prepared the stew.  The first thing I did was brown my beef.  While the recipe didn’t actually call for it, I had read it was good to dredge the cubes of beef in flour before browning.  I thought it sounded tasty but I don’t really like to use wheat flour if it can be avoided.  While shopping at my favorite middle-eastern market, Sahadi’s on Atlantic Avenue, Brooklyn, I spotted a few irregular flours.  One especially called to me, chick-pea flour.  I love chick peas but I wondered how the flour would work.  I asked one of the employees if he had any idea if I could substitute one flour for the other.  He said he knew some of his friends occasionally use chick-pea flour to make bread but he was uncertain.  I decided, “Why not?”  Soon I was walking out the door with a half pound bag of the newly found flour.  So there I am in the kitchen, dredging my medallions of beef in this middle eastern flour and gently tossing them into my pot coated in melted butter.  The beef begins to sizzle and everything seems off to a good start.  Soon though, it becomes clear I have way too much meat in the pot.  I’m overcrowding the bottom.  Truth is though, I don’t even have as much meat as was originally called for.  Instead of the two pounds asked by the recipe, I only have one and a half.  Regardless, the meat does brown but not the way I would like to see it.  The flour becomes more of a goo than the crust I was hoping for which I attribute to the overcrowding.  Then again, it could be the chick-pea flour.

After the meat is sufficiently browned, I begin to deglaze the pan with red wine.  Basically this is just a fancy way of saying I through in two cups of wine to get the tasty tidbits of cooked on food off of my pot.  I then added the beef broth as well, stirred in my spices – rosemary, thyme, garlic and bay leaf – brought all this to a boil, turned down the heat and allowed it all to simmer for another hour.

While I was waiting for the meat to stew in the wine, I began to chop up my vegetables which would go in next.  For some reason, while I was shopping for my groceries, I kept seeking out small, globular like veggies for my stew.  My button mushrooms, pearl onions, brussel sprouts and baby potatoes all exhibited a miniature roundness I found infinitely appealing this day.  Basically, I was looking to bring more art into my life and I decided my food needed to be more of a work in itself.  My normal tendency is to cut everything up very uniformly and regimented but today I was feeling the circular and so I began to branch out.  Visually I was very happy with the end result.  Additionally, the addition of celery root was an excellent choice.  Actually, I think this peculiar root is quickly becoming one of my favorite vegetables.  It has a wonderful starchiness but that full, robust celery flavor without the wateriness of celery sticks.  So tasty.

After an hour and after all my vegetables were chopped, I then added them to the stewing savory meat and wine.  The broth smelled wonderful.  In went in all my veggies which, surprisingly, turned out to be more than I could fit in my pot.  Sadly, some got left behind to go swimming in some other dish.  At this time I also added about two table spoons of arrowroot powder and an equal amount of water.  (By the way, that’s apparently how arrowroot is supposed to be mixed before adding it to a recipe – equal parts powder and water.)  Now, I wanted to use arrowroot powder because I’ve been told its just superior in every way; it has no distinct flavor, it thickens better and it holds up better when the food is then either refrigerated or frozen.  Next time I’m going to use cornstarch, though, and then I will compare.

From this point it was basically just a cooking process until everything was uniformly soft and succulent.  I will say, everything was good but I was a little disappointed.  The broth seemed a bit too sweet, a bit too sour.  The thing is, I had been adding what I would consider to be far to much salt and far too much arrowroot powder.  In the end, the thickness of the sauce seemed almost artificial, as if it had come from a can.  Additionally, the beef seemed a bit tough to me.

The first thing I will critique is my choice of wine.  While I would have normally chosen something dry and full bodied – say a merlot or cabernet – I instead decided to use the bottle of wine I had received as a gift, the Beaujolais Nouveau.  I realize this is generally considered a sweet red but I figured the cooking would mellow it out a bit and dull the sweetness.  It did but apparently not as much as I would have liked.  I did like the richness it added to the dish and the deep flavors definitely complimented the beef.  Still, I will be tweaking around and playing with my red cooking wines in the future.

I would also like to know how to brown meat appropriately.  I also want to know if my choice of flours was even reasonable.  I actually don’t believe it affected taste much but this too I will work on.

Still, I want to make sure I also highlight the successes of the dish.  The first would be the fact that it was a hot, savory, extremely satisfying stew and my first attempt.  The fact that nearly everyone else at the dinner had second helpings should attest to this fact.  Second, the use of additional vegetables not called for in the original recipe – celery root, brussel sprouts, button mushrooms – was spot on.  Okay, well I think that is all for now.