Get used to this marketing approach, if you’re not already totally sick of it: Every corporate food deal will be marketed as a “stimulus package.” Har.
The latest: Jamba Juice’s oatmealforabuck.com. At the site, consumers can print out a coupon to obtain $2.95 worth of fruit-topped, organic, steel-cut oatmeal for $1 at any participating Jamba Juice, throughout March. As deals go, that’s actually reasonably sweet.
It’s assumed that we do a lot of cooking in the test kitchen, and we do. But where do the recipes come from? They are not just random recipes from cookbooks or online directories; we make them up.
But before any cooking can actually happen, we spend hours on research. Some recipes take less research, like Nutty Trail Mix, and some take more, like the tamales recipe in our soon-to-come “Mexico Staycation” feature.
While I enjoy eating tamales, making tamales does not come naturally to a girl from Wisconsin. It is quite familiar, however, to our resident nueva Latina, Kate, and our Southern California girl, Aida. Yesterday, when tamale making commenced, Kate was forming tamales, Aida was dictating what she was doing, and I was noting the written directions so that any novice could successfully make a proper tamale. Although it usually does not take all three of us at once to complete a recipe, certain situations call for extra care and clarity, and especially accuracy. What’s the point of investing in a time-consuming recipe if it’s not accurate and won’t turn out delicious? Collectively, we were able to come up with a process that would make sense to any novice.
If I had it my way, I would be able to spend at least twice as much time researching a recipe and leave no stone unturned, no question unanswered. Unfortunately, the food dork in me could also spend two weeks here in the kitchen reading up on how colonial women used to kill and dress turtles for soup. For now, I’ll just have to continue to read my food dictionary on the bus.
Grilled, seared, or baked in the oven, caramelized lemons are a revelation, says danieljdwyer. “In the parts of the world that have been growing lemons for a millennium or more, raw lemon is basically unthinkable,” says danieljdwyer. “Outside of lemonade, I can’t think of any time a lemon is better raw.” Cut in half and caramelized to perfection, cooked lemons are great squeezed on everything from clam pizza to paella.
Caramelizing the lemon adds a depth of flavor that can’t be approached by raw lemon juice. When you squeeze them, you’re getting “something more than just brightness and acidity,” says danieljdwyer. Squeeze those caramelized lemons gently, though—even though lemons dry out in the cooking process, cooked lemons release their juices much more freely than raw lemons.
“In Valencia, they often stick salted lemon halves flesh side up in the paella pan when it goes into the oven,” says danieljdwyer. “A paella oven in Valencia is about as hot as a good pizza oven in the northeast US (so 800 degrees is the low end of the scale). Words can’t describe how much better this is than the comparably pathetic raw lemon wedges you get around here with paella cooked in a 475-degree oven.”
sodagirl agrees, and adds a tip: “Dip the cut end in simple syrup and put it face down on the grill. It burns,” she says. “You get a whole different flavor from the juice.”
Board Link: What makes a good clam pizza?
Last night’s potatoes and cabbage have never been so delicious. Bubble and squeak—commonly abbreviated as “bubble” in English parlance—is a delicious dish of leftover potatoes and greens (usually cabbage, but spinach is fine, says Soop) refried to perfection. Fried in a metal skillet, in copious amounts of butter, it is “sinful and delicious,” says RedTop.
Leftover potatoes and cabbage may not sound like much, but bubble and squeak is a classic. Fydeaux “loved it and couldn’t get enough of it” on a trip to London. Bubble and squeak even appears on upmarket British menus, says Harters. “It was a childhood standard appearing for dinner on Monday evenings as leftovers along with any cold roast meat from Sunday lunch,” says Harters.
Fans of “bubble” make sure to cook extra cabbage and potatoes—good mashing potatoes—to ensure the dish’s appearance the next day. “We mix the two with lots of pepper and then fry in butter,” says Harters. “If you’re clever, you can turn it over by covering with a plate and flipping it to cook the other side,” as with a Spanish tortilla. “Brown sauce is an absolute requirement and I’d have any leftover gravy as well,” he says.
Board Link: Bubble and Squeak
Gnocchi are “fluffy light pillows of flavor,” says hummingbird. At least, they are when they’re good. Potato gnocchi consist of “rich, buttery mashed potatoes with a slightest texture of skin (toothiness)—a structure around the richness,” says alwayscooking. “Cover them with the things you’d want in mashed potatoes or a rich baked potato—a red sauce, a sage butter, or just oil/butter/garlic.” Gnocchi are “like eating clouds with incredible flavor,” agrees bnemes3343.
But gnocchi need not be made with potatoes—there are also Roman-style gnocchi made with semolina, says limster. They can even be made with a ricotta base, says tatamagouche (although, technically, these are called gnudi, says Ima Wurdibitsch). “You can also add ricotta to potato or semolina gnocchi to lighten them a bit,” says tatamagouche.
Heavenly when done right, but beware: When badly done, gnocchi are “pasta bubble gum,” says fourunder.
Board Link: Gnocci, how to describe it to someone who’s never tried it?
Last night I cracked open a bottle of Haandbakk beer made by HaandBryggeriet, a small Norwegian brewery in the town of Drammen. Haandbakk is its first attempt at a sour beer, and the brewery claims it’s the first sour beer to come out of Norway in over 100 years. Whether or not that’s true, it seriously rocks, and not just because it’s from a country so famous for its black metal.
Haandbakk is a dark brown beer, with a lot of malty flavors, tempered by an intense sourness. It doesn’t have a bunch of funky stank like gueze, more of the balsamic vinegar smell of Flemish sour ales. The beer was brewed in 2006, aged in oak for two years, then bottled. It’s unpasteurized, and comes with a good amount of yeast sediment at the bottom of the bottle. Something must be going right in there, because it is nicely carbonated, and between the effervescence and acidity, is a great food beer.
I’ll definitely be seeking out more beers by HaandBryggeriet to fill up my drinking horn and enjoy while listening to some Dimmu Borgir. The brewery bills itself as experimental and has many interesting beers either in the works—like Valhalla which is made with figs, honey, and wild yeast and bacteria, but isn’t out yet—and a bunch that are already out like Dark Force, “the only wheat stout in the universe.” There is also a real sour fruit lambic made with red currants and mountain cranberry in the works.
HaandBryggeriet’s Haandbakk, in specialty beer shops for about $11, distributed by Shelton Brothers in the States. Visit sheltonbrothers.com to see who carries it in your area.
