After this week you might be forgiven for thinking that we’ve changed our name to Mastering the Art of French Carroting, or perhaps Babette’s Carrot.* The prominence of carrots in the last three posts was pure happenstance, answers to the question: What do we like to cook in the pressure cooker? Turns out carrots figure in a lot of what we like, including this week’s recipe, Oliver’s Chicken Stew.
Something discordant this way comes. It happens in every kitchen, if you cook together long enough. Jody and I did a Dagwood and Blondie over today’s post, Risotto with Kale Pesto, made in a pressure cooker. My willingness to fudge things a bit for a weeknight dinner versus the cruel exactitude of a restaurant chef. As Jody not so delicately summed up our contretemps: “You’re the photographer. [Ouch!] I’m the chef, and my reputation is on the line.” Guess who got the broom in the back of the head?
We’re back on course to the next Blue Zone* – the Nicoya Peninsula of Costa Rica! Casado – the married man’s lunch is our take on a Nicoyan central meal of the day, protein and salad along with a foundation of black beans and rice seasoned with a particular Costa Rican twist.
The Nicoya Peninisula is a 80-mile long thumb of land that juts into the Pacific from the northwest corner of Costa Rica. Among a certain type of backpacking tourist the peninsula is famous for its many beaches which ring the coastline. But the Blue Zone of the Nicoya Penisula does not include the coast – it is the interior, home of large national parks, still quite rural, and with many inhabitants living traditional lifestyles either as independent farmers or as sedentary agricultural workers finding employment on larger farms, and raising corn, beans, and other vegetables (including two forms of taro) in their own family plots. Until recently the Nicoya Peninsula was relatively isolated, reachable only by ferry until 2003, which saw the opening of the Taiwan Friendship Bridge.
At first glance the Nicoyan diet may not seem that remarkable–rice, beans and tortillas–along with a lot of fruit. But at 60 a Costa Rican man has about twice the chance of reaching 90 as one from the U.S., and this from a country whose medical budget is about 15% of that of the U.S. Nicoyans are some of the healthiest, most long-lived people on the planent. Say hello to Casado – beans and rice with all the fixings.
If you’ve been plaguing yourself with the question When, oh when, will I ever learn to cook bitter melon? then fret no more, relief is at hand, the stars finally have aligned for you this week. We’re offering our take on the Okinawan dish of Champuru, a Tofu Stir-Fry with Bitter Melon, Sweet Potatoes and Tumeric Poached Eggs. By the time you finish this recipe you’ll be a bitter melon whiz, and when people ask about that cool new flavor you’ve introduced into your stir fries you can say, Nothing, really, just a little goya. Oh, you might know it as bitter melon.
Welcome to our third post on from one of Dan Buettner’s Blue Zones*, the Japanese island of Okinawa.
I like fresh cod, but I LOVE salt cod, especially like this: Brandade de Morue with Olives, Peppers and Arugula. Brandade is what the French, who love adding cream and shallots to everything just to see if anyone’s heart explodes, is what happens when the children of Gaul get their mitts on some morue (salt cod). It has a rich satisfying flavor without being overwhelming, a great texture, and is terrific with uncomplicated red wines. Successful marriages have been based on less. It’s a standard in our house–we eat it by special request (birthdays), on Christmas Eve, and whenever somebody says, Gee, it’s been awhile since we’ve had brandade.
I don’t know what I like most about Slow Pork with Chow Fun Noodles and Kimchi–the braised pork, the chow fun noodles, or the incredible leftovers. This dish is an umami bomb–and most of it can be done in a slow cooker. Kimchi and milk for cappuccino live on the same shelf in our fridge; leftovers from Puglia rub shoulders with ingredients from North Africa or Malaysia. A little culinary polyamory is to be expected, even encouraged, especially when the result is something like this week’s recipe.
Making risotto with the remains of the holiday bird is tradition in our family. Thanksgiving or Christmas, turkey or goose. No matter. One decent risotto polishes off all the goose leftovers, but turkeys tend to be a bit more generous, with enough leftovers for sandwiches and a risotto, like this week’s Turkey Risotto with Saffron and Preserved Lemon, and maybe even a soup (e.g. Turkey Soup with Baby Bok Choy and Rice Stick Noodles).
“Hot-buttered groat clusters!” –Firesign Theater.
One of the pleasures of travelling is tdrawing close to the seemingly familiar only to suddenly discover it strikingly different, like this Puglian Barley Salad with Pecorino Cheese. Looks ordinary. But the taste – not like barley on this planet. Many of the more forward thinking participants in Italy’s agritourismo movement are attempting to preserve regional variations on farm products that for one reason or another have fallen from grace or never gained the favor of larger commercial ventures. Barley is a case in point–in Puglia, where it’s often hulled, rather than pearled, it’s chewy.
And chewy barley is a delight.
Truth be told, we eat more red meat as as a flavoring in a pasta sauce or a stir-fry than we do as the straight-up center of attention. However, Lamb Steaks with Herbs and Caramelized Garlic make a great indulgence, especially with the Puglian wrinkle of using olive oil scented with rosemary, sage and thyme instead of a butter sauce. The aroma of lemon, herbs and olive oil is a Proustian ticket to the sun-drenched Adriatic coast of your choice–and you’ll definitely want some bread to mop everything up.
Making your own shaped pasta like cavatelli or orecchiette (as versus rolling out noodles) is so gleeful, so hilariously liberating, that I can only compare it to being a little kid running naked down the street hollering, “Look at me! Look at me!” It’s just that great. Er… what? You never ran outside naked as a kid? Really? Never? Well, sounds to me like somebody’s got some serious catching up to do. No, don’t take your clothes off–we’re all adults now–the naked-in-the-street developmental train left the station some time ago. But that’s okay–you can still make Homemade Cavatelli with Tomato-Eggplant Sauce. You don’t believe me now, but if you share the joy and invite a friend to help, a friend with a bottle of wine, after seeing each other’s first dozen cavatelli, hilarity will ensue. Nobody’s cavatelli are bad–some are just different–and you do get better, fast.
The Garum Factory 