Wednesday 28 October 2009

Veggie Detox


Having rolled back to Albion at least 2 kilos of gelato heavier, I decided that it was time for some tough love in the kitchen. I threw out the remaining Magnum ice cream bars; the butter got the boot; all tempting carbohydrates swiftly met the lining of the rubbish bin.

It was time for some veggies. Not one who takes easily to the notion of a raw diet in a country slipping into the gray, damp cold of November, however, I decided to allow myself a bit of olive oil. OK, a good few Tablespoons of olive oil.

Roasted carrots played a significant part of our Great British Menu meal, and my improvised version of Glynn Purnell's 'pickled carrots' opened my eyes to macerating the carrots in oil and spices in advance of roasting. The oil acts as a conduit for infusing the carrots with whatever spice mixture you add to them. This batch has mustard seed, fennel seed, cumin, garam masala, dried corriander, salt and pepper. I crushed the larger seeds in a mortar and pestle and then added the rest. One could use any kind of oil, but I think vegetable or olive would work best. I may have gone a bit overboard with the spices this time, but mustard seed and fennel seed go wonderfully with carrots. If you happen to have some dried chipotle peppers lying around, crush those up and add a bit--the smokey, piquant flavour is a great compliment to the sweetness of carrots after they are roasted. If you can, slice them as thinly as possible; let them macerate for at least an hour, and place them in a thin layer on a baking sheet lined with foil. They become almost like crisps!

Macerating carrots

For the courgette, garlic, and cherry tomatoes, I kept things simple. Just a bit of olive oil, coarse salt and cracked black pepper.

These veggies roasted for about 45 minutes at 200 degrees Celsius. The tomatoes were sweet with condensed tomato flavour, the garlic was sticky with caramelized goodness. The courgette, however, was, well, just rather limp; I think I'll stick to sauteing or grilling those in the future.


The aubergines got a stove top roast over the gas burners. This method is best in the absence of a grill, and the charred skin gives the flesh of the aubergine, and the 20-foot radius around you, a strong, smokey quality. Yum. The roasted flesh was then removed from the skin and set aside. In a deep saucepan I heated some olive oil over medium heat, added:

3 garlic cloves, smashed and minced (raw)
3 garlic cloves, smashed (roasted)
2 shallots (raw or roasted)
Flesh of 2 roasted aubergines, mashed
3 Tbs. tomato paste
4 fresh tomatoes, chopped (I used the roasted cherry tomatoes)
1 Tbs. pomegranate molasses
2 tsp. dried sumac
2 tsp. Turkish red pepper flakes
Salt and pepper to taste
1/2 bunch fresh parsley (flat leaf, Italian is best, but curly is fine)

Add the garlic and shallots (if raw) to the oil (enough to coat the bottom of the pan) and saute for a few seconds. The moment that it begins to brown, add the tomato paste and saute for a few seconds more. Then add the aubergine and roasted garlic, shallots (if roasted), followed by the tomatoes, molasses, and spices. And if you happen to have some roasted courgette, go ahead and throw that in, too!


Finally, the jewels of peppers, shallots and fennel got the same simple dressing as the courgette and tomatoes--just a bit of oil, salt, and pepper.


These went in to a roasted veggie salad, dressed with just a bit of balsamic. All of the roasted veg was delicious with pita, hummus, lettuce, yogurt (just throw in some fresh mint, parsley and a bit of lemon juice), and fish throughout the week.

I just chose not to think about the oil!

Thursday 15 October 2009

Firenze (due)


Our second full day in Florence brought us meandering through the streets towards the Piazza del'Carmine, where we had a brilliant sun drenched lunch of prosciutto e melone, insalata caprese, and tagliatelle with porcini mushrooms (which we devoured far too quickly to document...sadly!).

So, returning to this certain Florentine quirkiness that I alluded to in my last post...

On our way towards the Piazza del'Carmine we passed some incredible holes in the wall, including a private palazzo with a beautiful courtyard. When I approached the gate to take a picture of the statue at the far end, an old man let us enter and we met two women who offered to take us on a tour of the converted palazzo, which now has a series of private apartments available for rent as well as a private gym! With each crunch or 'exalted warrior' pose, one would look up at a gorgeous series of restored, original frescoes.

Finally, we happened upon this woodworking shop, which had every variety of finial, molding, and wall bracket ever made!

Wednesday 14 October 2009

Firenze



Today, for this post, I am going to indulge. Visually speaking. Less is more as far as words are concerned, in this particular case.

Recently, our wonderful friends, Paula and Cy DeCosse, were our fantastic hosts for a weekend in Florence, where we celebrated Cy's 'Last Picture Show' at the Galleria dell'Accademia. The weekend was enriched with the presence of many of Cy's subjects for his show--the Florentines who make the city the buzzing hub of artisan creativity--, friends from all over the world, and, of course...gorgeous food.

Following the opening at the Accademia, we headed to the Stibbert Museum (think Versailles re-done by an eccentric Scotsman with a penchant for armor). The museum was the residence of a one Fredrick Stibbert, whose grandfather was the high commander of Britain's East India Company in Bengal. With the inheritance of his grandfather's entire estate, Fredrick's sole occupation became filling up the place with stuff. Lots of stuff. As in there is a hall for a complete Cavalcade.





Once we'd feasted our eyes on the horror vacui around us, we sat down to the following:


Turbantino di carote con bianco di astice, pinoli tostati e olio al basilico
(Carrot pudding with lobster, toasted pine nuts and basil oil)

Fagottini di crespella di ricotta di bufala e spinaci
(Crepes au gratin with bufala ricotta cheese and spinach)

Vermicelli alla chitarra al ragout leggero di verdure
(Vermicelli with vegetable sauce)

Gran pezzo di bue chianino alla toscana in salsa al ristretto di Brunello & Lattuga belga brasata con bacon
(Beef Tuscan style with Brunello red wine sauce & Braised Belgian endive with bacon)

Dolce all'amaretto
(Amaretto cake)

Friandises

Needless to say, after all of this, we all rolled down the hill to taxis. The evening was a special one not only because Cy's show was such a crowning moment in his homage to a city and a people he has loved for over sixty years, but the food as well as the venue reflected the best of Florence: one part opulence, one part humility, and one part absolute quirkiness, a certain brand of which can only can be found there.

Stay tuned for more quirkiness to come!

Monday 12 October 2009

Goodbye, Gourmet

Yesterday, National Public Radio’s All Things Considered commented on the demise of Gourmet magazine, stating that the public reaction was vaguely divided into two categories: those who didn’t know the magazine and therefore didn’t care, and those who were in mourning.

I am in mourning.


Gourmet’s publisher, Condé Nast, cited insufficient ad revenue, and, on 5 October, the title was dropped, along with three others. Without doubt, Gourmet was just one of many print publications shuffling along a mortal coil that terminates in a vortex of online media. I shall loathe the day when recipes take the standard form of a Tweet’s 140 characters.

How hypocritical, you say?

Yes, I feel as the pads of my fingertips hit the keys of my laptop that I am methodically tapping away at the nails of a larger coffin containing the struggling print media industry itself. Not that the words on this blog deserve consideration along those carefully chosen and printed in Condé Nast’s collection of titles, but it cannot be disputed that with the creation of every new food blog, our relation to cookbooks and gastronomic printed literature inches one step further towards obscurity. Nintendo DS’ ‘Personal Trainer: Cooking’ boasts ‘a DS Chef, your own private cooking instructor who talks you through 245+ recipes from more than 30 countries worldwide’ who will have you ‘cooking like a pro, even if you’ve never lifted a ladle before’. That ‘worldwide’ is superfluous is just the beginning of my problem with Nintendo’s school of cooking.


In the not so distant future, kitchens will be computerised, armed with a plethora of gadgets able not only to mollycoddle one through heaps of watered-down recipes chosen to please a 'target' consumer, but to inform one that the recipe in question calls for 1/3 cup of milk, and, having received a signal from the refrigerator that only 2/3 cups remain, a replacement litre has been pre-emptively ordered through the online grocery service and will be arriving tomorrow morning on one’s front step.


Even reading about the dissolution of Gourmet on blogs such as this one has its own twist of irony—as though the exchange of laments of the foodie blogosphere combine to create one long obituary-in-waiting that was composed using different words long before its actual death.


Yet, Bon Appétit and Epicurious.com live on, symbols of Condé Nast’s own efforts to court and pander to the ever amorphous ‘wider demographic’ and to create an online platform (and, in so doing, seal the fate of Gourmet), respectively. The sad state of gourmet.com pours salt on the wound in assuring its readership that ‘access to Gourmet recipes will also remain available via sister site Epicurious.com and the Epi iPhone application’. Joy.


For as long as I have been alive, Gourmet was the go-to reference for those who cooked good food and those who simply appreciated good food. It stood for exactly what it promised—the delights of the connoisseur, the gluttonous pleasure of the gourmand. Not every recipe between its covers seemed feasible, many brandishing preparation times in days rather than hours. And you know what? That was fine by me. I think we could do with more appreciation for what goes into traditional preparations of truly laborious and equally delicious food and less of the ‘Stoup’ (yes, I know Rachel Ray is far too easy a target) versions.


Why should the only recipes published be ‘accessible’? Surely there is room enough at the table for the home chef and the home cook; it is true that a home cook might risk feeling alienated by time-consuming, labour-intensive, complicated recipes, but Gourmet’s iconic status attests to an equally deserving reading audience that saw those same recipes as inviting challenges. One cook’s tedium is another’s bliss. Furthermore, Gourmet was the exception rather than the rule; every other magazine near the grocery store checkout deals in the business of quick, easy meals.


To those who might be rather quick to cry ‘snob’, let me say that it is thanks to literature such as Gourmet magazine that we enjoy a greater diversity of foods available today in the average American supermarket.

Lynne Rosetto Kasper hit it on the head when she spoke on 5 Oct. with Melissa Block on NPR’s ‘All Things Considered’: ‘about 10 years ago, when Ruth Reichl took over Gourmet, she took this magazine and she took an opportunity to redo a classic, and I think she did a bang-up job…food isn't just recipes. Food is far more than recipes. Food is stories. Food is stories about people. Food's politics. Food's history. And Gourmet was bringing that all in and embracing it’.