Ashkenazi Charoset, East Williamsburg Style

By | Uncategorized | 4 Comments

This is my East Williamsburg Charoset: a basic Ashkenazi mixture plumped out deliciously by handfuls of Trader Joes Omegar 3 fruit/seed/nut mix. I was making  charoset with my daughter, Leah, in her East Willimsburg kitchen, and realized, late in the game when I was already mixing chopped apples with cinnamon and the sun was getting ready to set: Aiiiii, we didn’t have any walnuts!  Happily, Trader Joes was right down Metropolitan towards Queens, but once I got there for the walnuts, yeah, I got waylaid by the mixture from TJ’s– so varied and delightful, full of rich nuts, crunchy seeds and sweet dried fruit. There was some sort of berry in the mix–cranberry? cherries? which gave the whole charoset a surprisingly tangy edge. I plan on including this rather elegant trail mix in place of walnuts next Pesach. (fyi: Trader Joes has not sponsored this post).

For those of you who have never been to a Seder, it is the ritual meal that narrates the flight to freedom of the Hebrew slaves, or, by the time we end the evening, ex-slaves.  The word itself means, in Hebrew, “order”:  and in a seder there is a special order to everything. Think of a tasting meal (of simple dishes) with symbolism: the parsley dipped into the salt water tears, the bread of affliction which had no time to rise, the bitterness of the herbs and the egg…..a universal symbol of springtime, the wholeness of the world.  Other holidays and festivals can have a seder as well, and its become popular in recent years: for instance, tu b’shevat, the birthday of the trees when Jews sample the first fruits, or Sukkot, tasting the fruits of Autumn. But most people associate a Seder with Pesach/Passover because the ritual meal IS Pesach: the meal consists of a narration, read from the Haggadah, a book that leads us through from to freedom, each step of the way symbolized by specific foods.

While Jews all over the world celebrate basically the same way, with basically the same foods, there are, of course, so many variations in both, depending on the community. One of my favourites is beating each other with green/spring onions, to symbolize the whips of Pharoah; its a Persian tradition and when my late brother married into a Persian family my daughter and I fell in love with doing this. For one thing it breaks the seder up a bit and lightens the mood because it is SO MUCH FUN.  You get to slap people around harmlessly, whack a swoosh of the delicate green leaves across the person next to you, smoosh against the shoulder of the person across the table, tickle against the ear of whoever you can stretch your arm to reach! By this time everyone should be laughing hysterically, and the room should smell fabulously  perfumed with onion!

We start when we are slaves. A Seder Plate welcomes us to the table with a small amount of each important ingredient for the course of the evening, with Charoset/Haroset/Harosses/Halek (or any number of different names depending on the community you have come from) having an important place in the ceremony. While it symbolizes a thing that oppressed us–the mortar we slaves were forced to build with–the mixture itself is utterly delicious:  a sweet mixture of fruit, nuts, spices and wine. It t is something completely different from anything else you’ll eat the rest of the year: is a confection? a fruit salad? yes, its all of these things, but it tastes remarkably, specifically, evocatively, of Pesach.

We end the meal spiritually with freedom, or rather our hopes and intentions of facilitating freedom. When we raise our glasses and proclaim: L’shana Tova B’Yerushalayim, next year in Jerusalem, we have eaten our way through this epic and universal story, and hopefully (a good reason to make a big batch) we have enough leftover charoset to enjoy throughout the rest of the festival, plopping it here and there as we like. Its lasts beautifully, really, for about two weeks but will be eaten up far more quickly.

Back to our recipe, this is basically an Ashkenazi charoset with the Eastern European flavours that our grandparents brought from Europe. We might have it chopped or sliced to a different consistency, we might use grape juice instead of wine, we might vary the ingredients a little bit. For instance, we always had celery in ours: i like the savoury, saline, edge that celery gives the fruit. You can leave it out if you like. Sephardi charoset/haroset/halik/etc has the same place in the seder but is far more varied and exotic with such ingredients as dates and orange flower water and cardomom. Next year I’m going to share some of my favourite Sephardi Charosets with you.

 

Ashkenazi Charoset, with Trail Mix

Serves 6 to 8

  • 3 apples, cored but unpeeled, diced
  • 1-2 sticks/ribs celery, finely diced (optional)
  • About 150g/6 oz/ 1 1/2 cups omega three fruit/nut/seed mix or any very delicious trail mix, or 100g/1 cup walnut pieces (plus optional dried fruit such as cranberries, raisins,cherries)
  • 5-6 tablespoons sweet red wine for Pesach (or any dry red wine, or red grape juice or other fruit juice)
  • 1 1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
  • A spoonful or two of sugar/honey, to taste

Combine the ingredients, mix well, and chill until ready to use.

 

Those of us who celebrate Pesach know that a good charoset means snacking on matzo spread with charoset throughout the festival. But its pretty great with all sorts of dishes: greek yogurt. smoked cold meats. leftover cold chicken, cheeses. Hot grain cereal if you are not observing Pesach. I think it might make a great sundae with ice cream, or a layered between spongecake and whipped cream , a Pesach/Passover spongecake of course.

Whats in my Handbag? Listen: At The Table with Clark Wolf and Marcy Smothers

By | Uncategorized | 3 Comments

In my handbag today? Preserved lemons, Indian mied pickle, dark chocolate, Tuscan truffle salt…. oh and 30 month old Parmigiano cheese!

When I was growing up I knew, deep deep down, that I’d one day be famous. I wasn’t quite sure for what, but figured time would let me know. As years passed and I wrote cookbook after cookbook, every so often I paused for a moment: thinking: am I famous yet? As I wrote my column, did a radio show in London on LBC, guested on the BBC, i wondered: Am I famous yet? Sadly, no. Not famous yet. Not EXACTLY.

However, I AM famous for one thing: my handbag. Wherever I go in the world, people want to know what I have it in: chances are its going to be something unexpected and delicious. With my big fat handbag I pull out the goodies I’ll need wherever I go, whatever food I find that might need perking up or whoever I meet that might need just the goodies I have to share.

Today, for instance, i opened my handbag and let the ingredients spill out a bit: then I took a picture. Here is what came tumbling out of my bag: a big fat Englsih cucumber, a half jar of black truffle salt from Tuscany (what happens if on my travels of a day i meet a hard cooked egg without it?). There is a half jar of preserved lemons and a full jar of Indian mixed pickle, a big bar of dark chocolate….oh and a wedge of 30 month old Parmigiano. I have been known to use my handbag as an affinage cave, that is, aging it until the perfect state. With 30 month old Parmigiano, it doesn’t need more aging, nor does it need refrigeration, its perfect to have in my handbag just in case I need to grate it over pasta or a Caesar salad, i need a nibble on an airplane, or in case I run into YOU and you’d like a taste. We can always find some lovely pears to go with it!

When my buddies, Clark and Marcy– food broadcasters Clark Wolf and Marcy Smothers–heard I was going to be at the San Francisco Winter Fancy Food Show they invited me to come onto their program. And bring my handbag: they knew that after shlepping aroundFancy Food Show I would no doubt have a great stash to share or nosh or give away. My big bag of delicious “just in case”.

Listen Here

Hour Two (this is the hour I am on):

 

And I have to say that my handbag is a two-way street: not only is it a great stash of condiments and ingredients but its also a perfect bag to have when you need to put something away “for later”. In a restaurant where there is fabulous bread? I got my bag! Walking down a street and spy lemons growing abundantly? reach up and grab a lemon, stash it in my bag and I’m outta there!

And if you want to see me make something with the stuff in my handbag; here is a little video. i had preserved lemons and harissa, and on the way down the path to my friend Betsy’s kitchen, I found a chicken laying eggs! really! this recipe if for brik a l’oeuf and its BRILLIANT.  Messy but not too difficult; after a few tries you’ll be a pro. Go make it!

The Yunnan Cookbook by Annabel Jackson and Linda Chia

By | Uncategorized | One Comment
Red rice for breakfast!

Red rice for breakfast!

Ever since The Yunnan Cookbook by Annabel Jackson and Linda Chia arrived on my desk and in my kitchen, I have been massively inspired!

The diversity of flavours, the freshness, the different ethnic groups and their foodways, as well as the simplicity of most recipes: or maybe its just my season of embracing Asian food which happens to me regularly, coming around on the guitar like a familiar beloved refrain. But with Asian food, as familiar as it might be, its always unfamiliar too. With new dishes and surprises layered atop old favourites. For instance, right now I’m big into preserving and pickling, and I’m ALWAYS into discovering a NEW hot sauce. Thats why you’ll find me, in about ten minutes, pounding a LOT of garlic with some fresh red chillies, salt, oil and black chinese vinegar. If its as wonderful as I suspect it will be, i’ll  take a photo and share the exact amounts.

But meanwhile, before I do anything else, I’m having breakfast.

To the cold, cooked red rice–a rice that shares qualities of both wild rice AND glutinous black rice/forbidden rice, I added some finely diced cucumber, a small spoonful of homemade chile oil, a little finely chopped ginger and a lot of chopped green/spring onions. Oh, and soy sauce to taste, and s sprinkling of freshly toasted and ground szechuan peppercorns. Was it wonderful? yes: earthy, spicy, exotic and comfortingly familiar all at once.Looking through The Yunnan Cookbook I found a recipe for red glutinous rice and, as I didn’t have that but DID happen to have already cooked red rice from the Camargue, I took inspiration:

Exact amounts don’t matter: per person allow about a cup of rice or a little bit less, and maybe 1/4 cucumber; toss with chopped ginger and green onions, say 1-2 spring/green onions and 1/4 teaspoon grated ginger, then like I say: soy sauce and toasted, ground, Szechuan peppercorns to taste.

Then, because I promised, and also because I have a bowl of fresh red not too hot chile peppers, I whipped up a relish that the authors call chutney: a fresh, fragrant mixture of garlic and chillies.

Yunnan Chilli Chutney

Yunnan Chilli Chutney

Yunnan Chilli Chutney

This is adapted because all chillies have different heat level: I used 4 that were fairly hot and fleshy and one that is larger, not terribly hot at all: all were juicy and flavourful.

  • 4 medium red chillies, diced
  • 1 large mild red chile, diced
  • 6-8 garlic cloves, roughly sliced
  • 1 teaspoon oil of choice (I used olive)
  • 1 teaspoon Chinese black vinegar
  • 1/4-1/2 teaspoon salt or to taste

Whirl the chillies, garlic, oil, vinegar and salt together until it forms a fluffy, bright red, light mixture. Taste for seasoning.

The authors recommend adding chopped mint for a Northern Yunnan variation, or chopped coriander/cilantro for the southern Yunnanese version; I didn’t have either but do have a forest of growing laksa leaf/Vietnamese coriander leaf/rau ram leaves, so scattered some of these instead: deeeelish.

Having the red chilli chutney–really, little more than a paste of chillies and garlic–in wonderful: i can’t believe how many different things it is delicious with. The first day it is too fiery to eat more than a little dab, but as the days went on, it mellowed out and I found myself spooning it onto all sorts of things such as the aforementioned red rice salad.

My breakfast all week has been leftover steamed rice, a soft-yolked fried egg, a sprinkling of herbs and a spoonful of the red chutney.

Meanwhile, I experimented. After a few tries using olive oil I made a chutney using sesame oil: darker in colour, it was darker in flavour too. It was GOOD, make no mistake, but not as bright. I also thought: how would making a milder pepper sauce be with this base of chilli chutney, so, getting our my stick blender I whirled together a large jarred roasted red pepper–the kind that has a little tang from a bit of vinegar but isn’t pickled…..anyhow: in the picture at the left you will see the jar of peppers, the small bowl of sesame-chile chutney, and the big bowl of…..whirled together roasted red pepper and chutney which bizarrely, and surprisingly, tasted just like SIRACHA! go and know!

Meanwhile, I made lunch: vegetable chowder with miso: extraordinarily good, with a spoonful of the red chilli chutney.

Vegetable Miso Chowder with Red Chilli Chutney

Vegetable Miso Chowder with Red Chilli Chutney

Vegetable Miso Chowder with Red Chilli Chutney

Serves 2 big bowls

  • 1/2 carrot, sliced thinly
  • 1 small to medium turnip, cut into halves then sliced into half-moon shapes
  • 10-12 mushrooms, thinly sliced
  • handful of broccoli rabe or other green vegetable such as romano beans, asparagus, cut into bite sized pieces
  • 1 litre/6 cups  hot water (plus several sachets of powdered dashi) or chicken/vegetable stock/broth
  • 6-8 green/spring onions, thinly sliced
  • Chunk of tofu, cut into small pieces, as desired: I used about 8 ounces
  • If you have any leftover chicken or other protein you can add that in addition or instead of the tofu
  • 3-4 tablespoons white miso
  • Yunnan Red Chilli Chutney to taste
I accidentally made Siracha!

I accidentally made Siracha!

Combine carrot, turnip and mushrooms in a saucepan with the liquid and bring to the boil; bring to boil and cook over high heat about 5 minutes, then add the green vegetable of choice: broccoli, broccoli rabe, green beans, asparagus, your choice.  If using dashi, sprinkle it in after the vegetables are cooked. Stir in the green/spring onions and add the tofu and, if you are using, any other bits of protein you might like to include.

Stir the miso in a small bowl with a few spoonfuls of the hot broth, and when it is smooth, stir it back into the pot. Heat it through for the miso to thicken but do not let it boil or it can damage the delicate taste of the miso.

Into each bowl place as much of the chilli chutney as desired, then ladle in the hot miso vegetable soup.

Part Two: Lunch at the Colombian Ambassador’s House in London

By | Uncategorized | One Comment

2014-11-21-09.49.11A very funny thing: I really didn’t know much about Colombia or Colombian food when I was invited to lunch; as I spent time with the chefs and we all cooked together, though, I felt such warmth (always welcome in our British coolness). I loved the way they prepared the food: not just a job, not a statement of style or personality, not just how it tasted either though all the chefs agreed that was paramount, but the way the food was caressed into being: patted, stirred, and at the risk of sounding trite: made with love.

Our visiting Colombian chefs, Juanita Umana and Diane Garcia cooked with such care and carefulness, not simply professionally, as some–many–chefs might. In fact, the taste that impressed me, stayed with me, was the taste of my grandmother’s cooking–even though my grandmother had never been to Colombia, not even a Colombian restaurant! It was the handwork-intensive, home-like taste that even when served up on the Ambassador’s exquisite China table settlings…..tasted of food meant to be eaten, food as a cultural caress, rather than food meant to impress. And I found it hugely comforting.

There was one dish, though, that spoke to me more than any of the others: Ajiaco Santafereno: chicken soup, with two kinds of potatoes for texture, corn because its such a ubiquitous ingredient, the whole flecked with coriander/cilantro, and served with capers, sour cream and diced avocado. The tangy fresh spunkiness of the capers– oh yes!–almost made me smile, while the diced avocado and sour cream added smoothness and richness each in their own way.

When I got home I made my own version of the soup, adapted from Colombia Cocina de Regiones, a regional Colombian cookbook in both Spanish and English, a book which our chefs contributed to. When I left, I requested a picture of myself standing in front of the national flag, with my new book.

Here is the recipe, a streamlined version of the soup we had for lunch. I cheated and used chicken broth as a base; if you like, you can make your own chicken soup as they do in Colombia. Either way, delightful.

Ajiaco

Serves about 6-8

  • 3 litres/2-3 quarts chicken broth or stock
  • 2 onions, coarsely chopped or thinly sliced
  • 4-6 cloves garlic, cut up coarsely
  • 1 bunch cilantro/fresh coriander leaves, washed, dried, and coarsely chopped, including the stems
  • About 5 floury potatoes, peeled and sliced
  • 8-10 waxy salad potatoes, peeled and cut into large chunks
  • 12 ish ounces chicken breast, boned and skinned, and cut into bite sized pieces
  • About 3 ears corn on the cob, cut through the cob so that they look like wheels
  • Salt and black pepper or white pepper
  • 4 tablespoons/ 1/4 cup, aproximately (to taste) capers in brine, plus a few drops brine per bowlful
  • Tablespoons of sour cream as desired, or about 125g/ 1/2 cup
  • 1 avocado, peeled and diced (sprinkle with lemon juice if doing ahead, even by 5 or ten minutes, or it will brown unappealingly

In a large pot place the chicken broth, onion, garlic, half the coriander/cilantro and both of the types of potatoes. Bring to boil, reduce heat and cook at a medium simmer, for about 20 minutes or until the floury potatoes have fallen apart and the waxy ones are film but tender.

Add the chicken and corn on the cob, then cook a further 10 minutes or until the chicken is tender.

When ready to serve, ladle out the soup taking care each person gets a few rounds of corn and some chunks of chicken, then sprinkle avocado into each bowl, then the capers with few drops of the brine, and finally, a spoonful of sour cream.

Pasteles de Yuca

Serves about 8

These stuffed croquettes were wonderful: slightly chewy dough, crisply fried, and filled with meat and egg, a filling almost exactly like the one for piroshki!

I always like to find uses for yuca, which is potato-like but less starchy; fried and fried/roasted, it is fabulous. So eating this stuffed croquette of yucca dough filled with meat, I’m thinking: oh yes, please. yes yes yes. (really, it was delicious.)

The recipe is adapted from Colombia: Cocina De Regiones; I’m still working on testing the recipe, but am posting it here, now, in progress. In case you might like to take up the challenge and work with it. At the moment I don’t have access to either yucca or the cornflour/cornmeal that the recipe needs.

  • The dough:
  • About 1 1/4 kilo/ 3 lbs yuca, peeled and vein removed; i often used frozen peeled and parcooked yuca.
  • About 125- 250 g/ 1/2-1 cup Colombian corn flour, which is finer than polenta but coarser than the Mexican masa harina
  • Salt to taste

Note: Chefs Juanita and Diane emphasized that the dough needs to be put in the freezer for a few hours or at even better, overnight. I suspect they meant the refrigerator because at no point they they mention defrosting.

In a pot of salted boiling water, add the yuca, and cook at a medium boil, or slight lower, a robust simmer, until the yuca is cooked through. If you are using frozen yuca, check directions: it might just need a few minutes. You want it soft with a cottony texture so better overcooked than under.

Mash the yuca and mix it with the corn flour, and salt as desired. Knead the yuca puree dough until it is compact, and no longer sticky. Wrap up in plastic wrap and stash in the refrigerator overnight.

  • The Meat Filling:
  • 3 tablespoons annato oil
  • 1 bunch or about 1 1/2 cups thinly sliced green onions/scallions, or about a bunch or bunch and a half
  • 1 red onion, finely chopped
  • 5 plum tomatoes, plus their juices, chopped (tinned/canned is fine)
  • 1/2 red pepper, finely chopped
  • 1/2 tablespoon–2 teaspoons cumin–preferably toasted and ground from seeds
  • half a kilo/ 1 1/4 lbs beef rump, cut into large chunks
  • 2 hard boiled eggs, peeled and chopped
  • Salt and pepper

Heat the annato oil over medium heat and saute the scallions, red onion, tomatoes and red pepper, sprinkling it with salt and cumin as you cook. When the vegetables are softened, place the meat in the pot and cook for about 30 minutes or until tender, checking every so often that it isn’t burning; if it threatens to, add a little water. Maybe tender-ish (you are going to chop it all together so doesn’t need to be too tender).

Remove the meat from the pot and the sauce, then puree it in a food mill or food processor. Return meat to pot with vegetables and cook together for about 5 minutes or so, or until it dries. Add the hard boiled egg and taste for seasoning.

Set aside until cool.

Assembling the pasteles:

Take the dough and make balls the size of large golfballs or small baseballs; working one at a time, using your finger, make a cylindrical hole, and fill it with the ground meat mixture, closing the dough over the open end to seal the stuffed parcel well. You can make these either oval or cylindrical: the object is to have a nice amount of stuffing inside the yuca dough.

When all balls are stuffed, heat the oil for frying. This calls for deep frying, and at the Ambassador’s house we used a deep fryer, but i deep fry, in several inches of hot oil, in a heavy frying pan or well-anchored wok.

Fry on one side until golden, then turn over and do the second side. You want the croquettes to be crisp and golden just turning the corner on lightly browned.

Hot Sauce for dipping, spooning

The pink tangy hot sauce that we had at the Ambassador’s was based on tiny pink pickled onions, chopped. It had a gentle and perfumed heat, which to me tasted like amarillo chillies though i’m not sure. This is another part of the recipe I am working on: but if you get to it before I do: I would chop pickled onions and add fresh not terribly hot red chille to the mixture, or finely chopped dry amarillo chile, or amarillo paste, sometimes available in the shops imported from South America.

Seasoned Pioneers spice company should have the annatto. They have EVERYTHING. And they are WONDERFUL