Categories
Hors D'Oeuvres & First Courses The Book

23. Vodka-Spiked Cherry Tomatoes With Pepper and Salt p.26


the recipe

This looked like a really simple recipe. Just cherry tomatoes in a vodka based marinade. The blurb in The Book tells us that “what makes these tomatoes special is that they’re peeled. Don’t worry; after you blanch them their skins slip right off”. The book lies! I blanched them well, even a few seconds longer than recommended in loads of boiling water. The skins absolutely didn’t slip off, and peeling the slightly loosened skins was a huge huge pain. The active time for this was more like 2 hours than 45 minutes. I’ll presume that I just don’t know how to peel a tomato though.

The marinade was quite good. Vodka and tomatoes are a classic pairing, apparently there are flavour compounds in tomatoes that are only soluble in alcohol, and without it we’re missing out on part of what the tomato has to give. The zest and vinegar gave the tomatoes a nice citrus bite. It’s becoming a recurring refrain here, but there was too much sugar on these. The recipe calls for a tablespoon to be added, and while I see where they were going with the sweet / citrus / vodka contrast I think they went too far. Vodka is quite sweet on its own, I’d say a teaspoon of sugar would have been more than sufficient. Maybe they calculated that amount using less naturally sweet cherry tomatoes? Who can say.

While peeling these little guys was a big hassle, it really did let the marinade penetrate the tomatoes. The tomatoes were flavour packed, and because they were peeled but not cooked you still got the delightful feeling of them popping in your mouth. I think they were tasty, but on the whole not worth the effort.

Categories
Fruit Desserts The Book

20. Strawberry Rhubarb Crumble p. 812

Sorry no recipe for this one

This was a very straightforward no surprises crumble. Incredibly easy to put together, and bursting with summer flavours. I grew up on this stuff. Mom was guaranteed to make a least a couple of these during the height of strawberry season, and we were usually good for one more in the fall with the strawberries she’d frozen.

I love the sweet-sour interplay of the strawberries and rhubarb. The balance between sweet and tart is the key to this dish. You absolutely have to add sugar or the rhubarb will make the whole thing sour, but too much and the magic is gone. Here I think they overdid it a bit on the sugar. They call for 1 – 1 1/4 cups of sugar for 2 lbs of strawberries and 1 1/2 lbs of rhubarb. I went for a cup of sugar as my berries were quite sweet, and the final dish was still more sugary than I would have preferred. I would definitely cut the sugar a bit and up the lemon juice. I’ve said it before, but the people at Gourmet really do like their desserts sweeter than I do.

I really enjoyed the simple rolled oats topping (just oats, flour, brown sugar, salt, and butter). It didn’t come out as a very crumbly crumble, more of a big cookie on top of the fruit filling, but it was wonderfully moist and the oats gave it a nice texture to contrast with the fruit.

This was a delicious crumble, but almost all strawberry-rhubarb crumbles are delicious crumbles. This was a pretty standard recipe that didn’t bring anything new to the table, or really decipher the formula which turns simple into deceptively simple. Excellent result, but an average recipe.

Categories
Sandwiches & Pizzas The Book

17. Grilled Eggplant Sandwiches With Lemon Aioli, Feta, and Mint p.182

the recipe

I sextupled this recipes and brought two sheet pans full to a picnic in the parc. They were devoured within seconds. I’m not sure if this was because they were scrumptious, or if my audience of hungry students wasn’t too discerning. I though these were OK, without being anything special. I think my expectations may have been a bit high. I was hoping for a very Mediterranean result, with feta, olive oil, garlic, lemon, eggplant, and mint. Somehow the mayonnaise in the aioli overwhelmed the other flavours, and the result was a bit bland. The mint did come through nicely.

I didn’t have access to a grill for these so I broiled the eggplant slices. Grilling might have added a nice smokiness, but the problem here didn’t lie in the eggplant. Toasting the buns I put them on would have been nice too. The recipe calls for a baguette, but for feeding a crowd rolls made more sense.

If I made these again I’d up the garlic and lemon juice, and use the best quality feta I could get my hands on. There really isn’t a lot of mayonnaise in here, but I think I’d try to cut it even further (would it still be an aioli? that’s a question for the ages). While this was better in theory than in practice, it wasn’t at all bad. In fact I’d make it again.

Categories
Beef, Veal, Pork, and Lamb The Book

15. Grilled Porterhouse Steak p.434

Very similar to this recipe

This recipe has four ingredients. A big porterhouse, cracked peppers, salt, and fire. This is manly steak grilling time, the opportunity to show off your grilling kung-fu. You just dropped a bundle on these steaks and they are now in your hands. Don’t mess up.

I find grilling steak a bit intimidating, I’m doing my very best to learn the vagueries of how different bits of cow react to fire but it’s a big job. I’ve been practicing the palm of the palm technique for judging doneness, and trying to get a sense of how hot a grill really is by holding my hand over it for X seconds. But all in all last summer was full of very mixed grilled steak results. The steaks I was sure were just shy of medium rare went all all the way from bloody to crispy. I don’t seem to have this problem in a pan, it’s just when I get outside. I suppose a lot has to do with hotspots and the weather outdoors, but I think the common factor is me. I’m pretty sure that my grilling chi is out of alignment.

I’m also a bit confused about steaks themselves. The recipe here calls for porterhouses. Turns out all porterhouses are T-bones, but not all T-bones are porterhouses. Apparently this has to do with the amount of tenderloin on the steak… who knew? Looking at the above picture I suppose I didn’t get a porterhouse, or a T-bone, at all. As far as I can tell I used striploin steaks. Which are T-bones, without the tenderloin attached. Confused? I sure am. To add a fun layer of complexity, in Quebec meat is billed using its French name, English translations are sometimes spotty and always metric. Remember that your 12 oz porterhouse is really a 340 gram chateaubriand.

In the end I got some very nice looking meat, that I salted, peppered and slapped on the grill. This was the first time I’d used this particular grill, and had no clue how it behaved. All in all I think I did OK. Goldilocks would have been proud, our three steaks were overdone, underdone, and just right.

The recipe (in the book, not the linked version) recommends searing the steaks for a couple minutes over very hight heat and then moving them to a cooler spot to finish cooking for ~15 minutes. They also recommend using a meat thermometer to check for doneness. This would have been a great idea if I’d had a meat thermomitor up on the island, and if my steaks hadn’t nearly finished cooking in the few minutes it took to sear them. The recipe does call for one and half inch steaks, mine were more like an inch thick, so this could explain the cooking times.

Overall everyone was delighted with their beef, I like mine on the rare side, and one of my dining companions prefers her steak grey. We all won. I think I butchered my adherence to the recipe pretty badly here, so I’m not sure I’m fit to comment on it. Pleasantly, summer is around the corner, and I’ll have ample opportunity to redo this. Yup, I’ll have to make a big succulent porterhouse in the name of science… life is hard.

a temporary rating of

Categories
The Book Vegetables

9. Brown-Buttered Corn With Basil p. 534

Again, no recipe for you today but this side dish is so easy you really don’t need one. I browned butter in a heavy bottomed pan, and added corn kernels, salt, and pepper. When the kernels were tender (around 4-5 minutes) I stirred in some torn basil leaves.

I think the proportions were a bit off in this one. The book recommends 2 TBS of butter, 3 cups of corn, and 1 cup of basil. I would cut the butter and basil in half. Both added really nice flavours, but the extra butter just wasn’t really necessary. The problem with the basil was too much flavour, it started to overpower the corn a bit. I’d also be careful about shredding the basil very finely, as it was I got a lot stuck in my teeth.

Despite my criticisms I thought this was pretty good; fresh and summery. I think the browned butter was a great idea, it added a much appreciated layer of nuttiness to the dish which contrasted nicely with the sweetness of the corn.

Categories
Poultry The Book

7. Colombian Chicken, Corn, and Potato Stew p. 370

the recipe

This is a stew is thick and rich. I made it in the middle of July. What was I thinking? It may have gone something like:

me: I feel like chicken.
ME: But it’s hot out, and your apartment is already 35 degrees.
me: Don’t people in hot countries eat chicken?
ME: You’re right, it’s hot in Columbia… make this stew.
me: Stew? it’s hot I don’t want stew!
ME: What do you know about hot weather eating? If it’s good enough for Columbians it’s good enough for you.
me: OK, let’s do it.

By the time I finished cooking my apartment was up to about 40 degrees, and I was ready to pass out. I ate a few obligatory spoonfuls and decided that the rest should be frozen ’till the fall. Unfortunately I didn’t retrieve it ’till a couple of weeks ago, and the freezer burn didn’t do anything to improve it.

Despite my foolish timing for this dish, it was actually fairly good. It had great chicken flavour, and grating half the potatoes left the sauce nicely thickened with some potato chunks to bite into. The stew itself is bland, so I’d top it with a healthy dose of the capers and cilantro. The flavour in the stew mostly comes from the chicken, so don’t skimp on browning it.

Categories
The Book Vegetables

6. Roasted Cherry Tomatoes With Mint p. 585

the recipe

The name pretty much says it all. Tomatoes tossed in oil, salt, and pepper, roasted till bubbling and a bit blackened, topped with fresh mint. This was pretty good, but I’m not sure that roasting improved them. I liked that they took on some colour, but why mess with summer fresh cherry tomatoes? They’re great just as they are, and roasting them denies you the satisfaction of having them pop in your mouth.

Because these cooked for only about 8 minutes they were somewhere in between fresh and fully cooked. I guess this would let people who dislike the raw flavour in tomatoes to come close to appreciating their summery goodness. Next time I’d keep the ingredient list and skip the roasting.