chicken sausage for dad

As the years go by, I find it more and more difficult to come up with gift ideas for my parents, especially my dad.  There isn’t a whole lot that he needs or wants that he wouldn’t just pick up for himself, so when it comes to gift-giving time, I’m always a bit stumped.  To make matters even more difficult, his birthday falls within a week of Fathers’ Day.  This year I decided I was through with going to the mall and spending money on some useless object that would end up in the back of a closet.  So for Father’s Day I planted some herbs in his garden, and for his birthday I made him a few pounds of sausage!

My dad is very health-conscious- he rarely eats red meat, and usually goes for the low-fat option when possible.  He also loves to grill, so I thought what better gift than a bunch of homemade chicken sausage?  I found out through reading online that most of the chicken sausage you buy in the store is actually not that low fat, but by making it at home, you can obviously control what goes into it and make a much healthier product.  Milk powder is supposedly the “secret ingredient” to keep things moist.  (Also, apparently cooked white rice is a great fat substitute, although I didn’t try it.)

I’m not going to lie- making sausage at home is a labor of love, and the two main reasons to do it would be a) controlling the ingredients, and b) making some creative flavors that you couldn’t find in a store.  The meat counter at my local grocery makes sausage on-site, and has a decent variety, so until now I never felt much need to make my own.  But I always like to try new and challenging food projects, so this was as good an excuse as any!  I made two varieties, a chicken “bratwurst”, and a sweet Italian-style sausage.  The bratwurst recipe was adapted from this one, and I didn’t use a recipe for the Italian sausage- I just added a bunch of fresh garlic, fennel seeds, a few red chili flakes, basil and oregano.   I used a 2:1 ratio of boneless thighs and chicken breast- I wanted it lean but not totally dry.

I’ve used my meat grinder attachment before to make chorizo, but had never used the sausage stuffer before, so that was a new frontier.  The first time around, I had some trouble with getting the timing down, and ended up with some air pockets, etc.  Fortunately, the second time went a lot more smoothly, which encourages me to repeat the experiment, knowing it will get easier with practice.  The directions tell you to grease the nozzle before putting the casing over it, but I found that if the casing is wet, that works much better than grease.

You have to really be cool with playing with intestines to make your own sausage.  It’s fun, once you get the hang of it and get over the fact that what you’re putting meat into was formerly a thoroughfare for “waste material” as we’ll delicately refer to it.  Rinsing the casings is entertaining- you fit one open end over your faucet and let the water flow though, and it inflates like a water balloon.  Fun stuff!

I haven’t gotten any feedback yet from Dad, as I think he put the sausages in the freezer for later, but Marvin & I grilled a few leftovers the other night and I was pretty pleased for a first-time effort; enough so that I’m inclined to attempt it again before grilling season is through.  I’ve been dying to try a Vietnamese sausage, and maybe even a boudin noir if I can get my hands on some pig’s blood (anyone having a hookup should email me!).  If you want more info on making your own sausage, check out the blog Saucisson Mac, or if you’re really serious and don’t already have the book Charcuterie, go pick that up at your local bookstore.

mediterranean chickpea salad (aka balela, my way)

The other day I was catching up a little on my blog reading, and came across something on a very well-known food blog that kind of blew me away.  It was a recipe for a pepper salad, and was basically just red & yellow peppers, red onion, feta and cucumber.  The kind of thing that I throw together without thinking twice; not the kind of dish I would deem “blog-worthy”.  There was no cute story with it; just the recipe and a bit about how the author had stopped eating salads with lettuce.  But there, underneath the post, were close to 150 comments saying how great it was, and how people were dropping everything to rush to the store to make this salad.  I have to say, I was flabbergasted.  Really?!?

Reading this person’s post, it jolted me back to the reality that many people (possibly even the majority?) who regularly read food blogs and watch the Food Network rarely cook! All those commenters that said stuff like “Wow, that looks so delicious”…?  I would bet money that less than 5% of them go on to actually prepare the recipe.  (I guess this isn’t so strange if you think about, for example,  all the people who read fashion magazines but don’t dress fashionably.)

So what does this have to do with balela? (Huh?  Remember that… the title of this post? Oh yeah…)  Well, I made some a few weeks ago (or rather, my interpretation of it), and even took a couple photos, but never posted it because I didn’t think it was “fancy” enough or something.  Clearly, I am out of touch with what the blog-reading public wants!   I guess the moral of the story is that  instead of trying to second-guess what people may want to read about, I should just post whatever I feel like?

Trader Joe’s sells balela in little plastic tubs, but the portion they sell amounts to about one whole serving, and it’s easy and much cheaper to make yourself.  As I’ve mentioned before, I’m a big fan of making big batches of grain or legume-based salads to take in my lunch.  They’re also good potluck fare- this one was for the Memorial Day BBQ I went to (the one with the grilled pizza).  My version isn’t “authentic” balela in any way, as I added some extra veggies (peppers, cucumbers), but I like the extra crunch they add.  The dressing is inspired by the dressing for fattoush and can be used in any salad where you want Middle Eastern flavors.

Mediterranean Chickpea Salad (aka Balela, my way) (printer-friendly version)

2 cans chickpeas, drained and rinsed, or 1 can chickpeas & 1 can black beans
1 pint grape or cherry tomatoes, halved or quartered
1/2 an English cucumber, seeds removed and diced
1/2 red onion, diced
1/2 green pepper, diced (susbstitute red if you don’t like green)
1 good handful flat-leaf parsley leaves, chopped

Dressing:
1/4 cup olive oil
2 tbs red wine vinegar (or sub lemon juice)
1 large clove garlic
1 tsp za’atar
1/2 tsp sumac
1/2 tsp salt
several grinds black pepper

Notes: I use grape tomatoes because they’re more reliable year-round, but if you have good-quality regular tomatoes, go ahead and use them.  This salad is excellent with a bit of feta crumbled into it- I don’t believe it’s traditional, but it makes it a little more substantial and adds a welcome texture and richness to the austerity of raw vegetables.  If you can’t be bothered with the za’atar and sumac, the salad will still be good without them- I threw them in because I happened to have some handy.

Directions: Combine all of the vegetables in a large bowl.  Smash the garlic clove with the flat side of a chef’s knife.  Place in a small screw-top jar with the other dressing ingredients and shake well.  Let the garlic clove marinate in the dressing for 5-10 minutes and then fish it out and discard. Pour the dressing over the salad and stir well to combine.  Taste and adjust for salt and pepper, or for more oil or vinegar according to your taste.  (It will almost definitely need more salt, but I’d rather err on the side of you having to add some.) If not serving immediately, wait until serving to add the parsley. Serve at room temp or only slightly chilled.

book club: “hungry monkey” by matthew amster-burton

I was in the library a few weeks ago checking out The Whole Beast, and on my way out, a little book on the New Arrivals shelf caught my eye.  It was called Hungry Monkey, the story of onetime food writer* and new father Matthew Amster-Burton and his quest to impart his eclectic food tastes to his daughter, Iris.  The author documents his daughter’s eating habits from infancy to age four, following her  through periods of omnivorosity, ultrapickiness, and everything in between.

You may think it unusual that a single gal with no kids would take an interest in such a book, but actually I have been intrigued by the subject ever since I worked in restaurants way back when.  Parents would order tacos for their kids “No vegetables, just plain meat, that’s all they’ll eat”, and I would always secretly judge a little bit, thinking to myself, “Have you even TRIED to get them to eat a taco with vegetables?  It’s just iceberg letttuce and tomato, for pete’s sake; it’s not like it’s broccoli!”  I suspected, as did Amster-Burton, that kids’ pickiness could be in part due to the parents’ expectation that they would be picky (and thereby not exposing them to diverse foods), rather than something inherent.  I reasoned that children in other cultures must eat whatever food is put in front of them, and that pickiness was somehow another outgrowth of spoiled American privelege.

After reading this book, I do have a new appreciation for what parents go through in this department, especially those who don’t have the luxuries that Amster-Burton has.  Currently a stay-at-home dad, his budget and schedule allow him to tote Iris around his gentrified Seattle neighborhood (Capitol Hill), taking her for lunch at a kaiten-sushi joint or to one of the many specialty markets to grab supplies (lobster, anyone?) for that night’s dinner.  But in spite of exposing Iris to all manner of foods, she still goes through a picky phase, rejecting foods that she had once downed with gusto.  The conclusion that Amster-Burton comes to, through his own experiences and through talking to other parents, is that a certain amount of picky eating is probably unavoidable, and a phase the vast majority of kids experience to one degree or another.  Unlike some of the “parenting experts” he quotes, though, he takes a fairly laissez-faire approach to the whole situation, trusting that his child will not die of a food allergy or suffer malnutrition from not eating enough vegetables.

It was quite entertaining to read about Iris’s encounters with “unusual” foods (at one dinner, presented with a whole fish, Iris proves to be a more intrepid eater than her parents!), and to experience second-hand the little joys and upsets the author lives through as he tries to share his favorite foods with his daughter.  The book is hysterical in parts, and  Amster-Burton has a talent for relaying funny Iris stories in a way that transcends a show-offy “look how cute my kid is” tone.  His wittiness and hip sensibility (he was a rock critic before being a food writer) will appeal to the many thirtysomethings, just starting families, who ate sushi and pad thai in college as often as pizza and subs.

As funny as the book is, it’s not just about superficial anecdotes.  Underlying the whole story is the sense of joy that the author has at sharing each new food with Iris- the glee when she gobbles something up readily, and the pangs of disappointment when a favorite food is eschewed.  Amster-Burton brings Iris into his “food world”, taking her shopping, letting her select menus, and spending many hours in the kitchen with her.  As a dad into sports might play catch with his child to share his love of baseball, Amster-Burton shares his love of food with Iris by making her an active participant in the daily food rituals of the household. And I think that regardless of where Iris ends up on the picky scale as she grows up, she will look back and cherish that one-on-one time spent with her dad.

*Matthew Amster-Burton can currently be found writing about food on his blog, Roots and Grubs.

Discussion Questions:

1. Both the author and myself had some pre-conceived notions about picky eaters.  Did the book change any views you may have had, or (for those of you who are parents) reinforce what you already knew to be true from experience?
2. The author confesses that he was, in fact, a very picky eater as a child, but turned out to be an avid food-lover.  Most of you reading this are probably adventurous eaters; is this something that you came to on your own, or did your parents nudge you in that direction? Do you think being a “food lover” is innate or learned?
3. The author describes being forced to try sushi as a kid and almost throwing up, but trying it again in college and loving it. He credits this to the fact that the second time he tried it, he expected to like it.  Do you agree?  Can you think of a food that you probably liked because you expected to like it, or anything you didn’t like in spite of thinking you would?
4. Not every family can spend the time and money the author does to introduce his daughter to so many foods.  What can working parents or parents with less means do to bring cooking and diverse foods into their children’s lives?  Or do you feel this is even important?
5. Food obviously plays a huge role in the Amster-Burton household.  What role does food have in your household?  Do you feel that kids need to know “where food comes from” and participate in food preparation, or is it enough just to make sure they’re eating reasonably healthy foods?

bakewell tart (daring bakers)

The June Daring Bakers’ challenge was hosted by Jasmine of Confessions of a Cardamom Addict and Annemarie of Ambrosia and Nectar. They chose a Traditional (UK) Bakewell Tart… er… pudding that was inspired by a rich baking history dating back to the 1800’s in England.

As usual, I left this month’s Daring Bakers challenge until the last possible minute!  Fortunately, it was a pretty easy one to throw together.  We made a Bakewell Tart, which I am to understand is a classic British dessert (or “pudding”, as they say across the pond).  It’s basically a pastry crust with a layer of jam spread on top, filled with a batter of eggs, butter & ground almonds (aka frangipane).  Thanks to the help of my food processor and stand mixer, I was able to put this together Thursday after work and before band practice.  (I went up north Friday, so had to have it done before we left.)  Fortunately, the intense heat of the past couple days subsided just in time for me to heat up my kitchen with a 400-degree oven!

The results of my tart were somewhat mixed.  It’s hard to say if it was successful since I’ve never tried or seen one of these with the exception of looking at other DBers’ photos, but the first thing I noticed was that my frangipane didn’t puff up whatsoever; it was fairly dense.  Also, the quantity of pastry crust called for seemed much more suitable to a 10 or 10.5″ tart pan rather than a 9″ (I used the whole quantity as specified, and ended up with a pretty thick crust that didn’t fully cook through).

Perhaps I would have had a better result if I had cooked the tart 5 minutes or so longer, but the top looked slightly browned and felt firm so I thought it was done.  However, my crust ended up pretty pale.  I don’t want to call the result a “fail”, but it just wasn’t to my taste.  I’m not a fan of baked goods that seem so moist that you feel you’re almost eating raw batter (I can’t stand doughy cookies or overly “fudgy” brownies), and this tart was verging on that texture. I was, however, quite pleased with the flavor combination I chose.  I used apricot-orange preserves from Trader Joe’s for the jam, and the flavors of the fruit paired brilliantly with the almonds.

Verdict: If you’re a fan of almonds, and are looking for a fairly easy dessert recipe to put together, I would give this a go.  You may just want to bake it a little longer, or possibly add another tbs of flour if you prefer a less damp texture.  Also, the ground almonds I used were not skinned, so perhaps that’s why my tart had a denser texture (although the recipe did not specify skinned ground almonds).  I think skinned almonds would have lent a more refined appearance and possibly allowed the frangipane to puff up more.

6/29 Update: I went away for the weekend and stuck the remainder of my tart in the fridge; I had a piece today, cold, and liked it much better!  The texture was more like a firm bar cookie rather than a squidgy undercooked tart.

pizza on the grill: a summer obsession

This is an ode to one of summer’s perfect foods, pizza on the grill!  Ever since I figured out how easy this was, I’ve been making it on a regular basis during grilling season.  It took us a few tries to perfect the technique, but once you get the feel for it, it’s a breeze, and one of the quickest (and most economical) things you can make on the grill.  Plus, your friends will be blown away by how good it is.

I’m sure I’m far from the first food blogger to write about grilled pizza, but if you haven’t tried it, you’re in for a real treat.  It’s the closest I’ve come at home to the wood-oven flavor of a traditional Italian pizza (thin crust, not too many toppings*, crust charred just so in a few spots…).  It makes great party fare, as you can cut the pizzas up into small appetizer-sized slices and pass them around as they come off the grill, which is what we did at Sarah & Steve’s Memorial-weekend-Katie-visiting-from-Denver BBQ (yes, it’s taken me that long to post this! Sigh).  I made a double recipe of dough** and divided it up into four balls, each making an approximately 9″ pizza.

The first pizza we put on was actually more of a Middle-Eastern style flatbread brushed with olive oil and sprinkled with za’atar.  It got a little more charred than we would have liked, but it helped us gauge the temperature and timing for the subsequent pizzas.  I suggest doing a plain one to start with if you’re new at it, so you don’t waste a bunch of toppings if it does burn.  The dough tastes great just brushed with olive oil and sprinkled with sea salt- a “pizza bianca”, as it’s known in Italy.

Once we got our test pizza out of the way, we made two more pizzas, one with a classic Margherita*** topping (tomatoes, basil, fresh mozzarella, olive oil, salt & pepper) and one with roasted red and yellow peppers, feta, kalamata olives and basil.  I often don’t use sauce on my grilled pizzas, but if you want to, just make sure to go easy and use a light hand with the toppings in general.  You’ll want to use pre-cooked toppings, as the heat from the grill just warms them through rather than cooking them.  The varieties of topping combinations are as limitless as your imagination, but just keep in mind that for this style of pizza, less is more; you can’t achieve a crisp crust if it’s bogged down with too many extras.

I think I’ve made a convert out of Sarah, who used the fourth ball of dough a few days later to make another grilled pizza for her family.  If you have kids, this is a great recipe as it’s really easy to make individual-sized pizzas and let them choose their own toppings.  If you make the pizzas a little smaller, you can easily do two or even three at a time.

*There was a recent post on the Village Voice about “food words we hate“, and “toppings” was mentioned as a hated word.  Ever since I read that, I can’t stop thinking it does sound weird!  But what on earth could you replace it with, especially when talking about pizza?  Anyway, if the word “toppings” is bothersome to you, I apologize in advance for using it several times throughout this post, and welcome suggestions for alternatives.

**There is much debate about how to make the best pizza dough, what flour to use, etc.  I leave this up to you, as I think almost any dough you use will turn out pretty darn good.  One word of advice, though, would be to shape the dough by gently stretching it rather than rolling it.

***OK, technically, my sauceless pizza was a hybrid of Pizza alla Napoletana (cherry tomatoes and basil) and a Pizza Margherita (light tomato sauce, mozzarella & basil).  I usually use the cherry or grape tomatoes because in Michigan, for most of the year, they stand the most chance of having any flavor.

Pizza on the Grill (printer-friendly version)
This isn’t so much a recipe as it is some loose guidelines on the actual grilling process.  Although it is rewarding and not at all difficult to make your own dough (especially if you have a stand mixer), this is something you could have for a weeknight supper using store-bought dough.   I’ve used the pizza dough from Trader Joe’s and had good results- you’ll just need to bring it to room temp and flour it a little so it won’t be too sticky.

As for toppings, like I said, the sky’s the limit.  Think of the dough as a blank canvas on which to paint flavor.  Don’t limit yourself to “traditional” pizza toppings- one of the best pizzas I made had no tomatoes, sauce or cheese; instead I used crème fraîche, corn, bacon and scallions.  It’s also a great way to use up odds and ends in the fridge!

Directions: Arrange the coals so that there are more on one side than the other- this will give you two “cooking temperatures”.  Shape the pizza dough into rounds no bigger than 8″ or so in diameter.  Don’t fret too much about the shape, as rustic shapes work fine, but do try to get them as thin as you can without tearing.  Get your toppings organized and have them within easy reach- once the dough’s ready, you’ll need to work quickly so your crust doesn’t burn.

Put your pizza dough on the hot side and cook until the bottom becomes lightly browned (watch carefully to avoid burning), 1-2 minutes.  If the heat is a little uneven, give the dough a 180-degree rotation at some point.

Flip over the dough, place on the cooler side of the grill, and quickly add your pizza toppings.  Cover the grill and cook for 3-6 minutes, checking periodically, until the pizza is heated through and the bottom crust looks done.  If the crust begins to burn and the cheese isn’t yet melted (assuming you’re using cheese), you’ll need to adjust your coals by pushing some from the “cool” side over to the hotter side.

Please note that this isn’t an exact science, and the best thing you can do is be willing to go through some trial and error until you get a method and timing down that works for you and your grill.  You’ll be rewarded with pizza that tastes better than you ever imagined you could make at home!

café habana: breakfast overeasy

In Ferndale, my hands-down favorite breakfast place is the Fly Trap.  Problem is, it’s the favorite breakfast place of  many people, and on the weekends, the line usually spills out onto the sidewalk.  Unfortunately, there aren’t many other good breakfast options in Ferndale worth mentioning.  And please don’t say, “But what about Toast?”  Sure, they have cute décor, but mediocre food, abominable service and high prices, and after my last experience there (it was a Monday and the Fly Trap was closed), I don’t think I’ll ever go back.

So what’s a gal to do on a weekend morning when she doesn’t feel like cooking and is too hungry to wait in line?  Two words: Café Habana.

Café Habana is in downtown Royal Oak and is part of the Bastone/Vinotecca complex on the corner of 5th and Main.  It’s relatively small, yet is never full on weekends despite its tasty (and cheap!) brunch menu.  They score points over the Fly Trap and other breakfast places for ambiance- they have Cuban music on the stereo, and sitting amongst the exposed brick and wrought-iron chandeliers, it is a pretty pleasant place to relax and read the Sunday paper. The service is laid-back and friendly, not frantic, and you never get the impression they are trying to turn a table.

If you’re more the type to seek a “standard” breakfast menu with pancakes, eggs, bacon and the like, this probably isn’t the place for you. But for the more adventurous eater, Café Habana has some exciting offerings.  Marvin and I have eaten here several times and our favorite dish is the Huevos a la Flamenca.  The eggs are served in a tomato-based sauce that has little pieces of carrot and peas as well as ham and sausage.  It’s served with a potato croquette that is browned and crunchy on the outside and fluffy on the inside.  Another dish I like is the Huevos Habana, two eggs with a pork and plantain hash and poblano hollandaise.  If I’m not in an eggy mood, I go for the Arepas (cornmeal pancakes), which you can either get sweet, with cream cheese and fruit, or savory, with herbed goat cheese, sautéed spinach and pico de gallo.   Coffee is above average here, but if you’re not a coffee drinker, they have a good freshly-squeezed limeade, or you can order drinks from the bar at the adjacent restaurant, Bastone.

Café Habana can also be recommended for lunch and dinner- I’ve had the Flank Steak with Chimichurri and it was pretty darn good- but for some reason when we end up there, it’s usually for breakfast.  Fly Trap, we still love ya, but on the days we sleep too late to beat the crowds, you can find us in a booth at Café Habana, divvying up sections of the New York Times and enjoying a leisurely meal.

asparagus-shrimp risotto & vidalia grilled cheese (recipes from “how to pick a peach”)

I recently finished reading Russ Parsons’ How to Pick a Peach for our first book club discussion, and thought it would be fitting to cook a couple of his recipes to enhance the experience.  Since the book is sectioned by season, I flipped through the “Spring” recipes for ideas.  Right off the bat there was a recipe that appealed to me in the Onions chapter for a grilled cheese with onions.  Like me, I’m sure most of you don’t need a recipe for grilled cheese; for me the recipe was more a reminder of how great a simple combo like cheese and onions can be.  He dresses it up a bit by using a fancy cheese, and dressing the onions in a little champagne vinegar and parsley. The other recipe I chose, Asparagus-Shrimp risotto, was dictated by the fact that asparagus is just about the only seasonal Michigan produce you can get in the farmers’ markets right now (with the exception of rhubarb, which was not in the book).

Parsons’ grilled cheese is meant to be cut into strips and served as an appetizer with wine or (as he suggests) Champagne.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m not one to eschew an opportunity to drink Champagne, but the only chance I had to make this was at lunch, alone, and seeing as how I had other chores to do that day, the Champagne was not an option.  Anyhow, the basics are: white bread with the crusts trimmed (I left mine on), very thinly sliced sweet onions (Vidalia, Walla Walla, whatever) marinated in a splash of Champagne vinegar (I used white wine vinegar), chopped parsley, and some soft cheese (he suggests Taleggio, Brie or Taleme; I used Fontina).  Something I learned from the book is that sweet onions aren’t any “sweeter” than cooking onions; they just contain much less of the sulfurous compound that makes onions taste oniony.  It’s really kind of pointless to even cook with them, since what little onion flavor they have dissipates with cooking.  My Vidalias were so mild that I put an entire 1/2 onion on my sandwich and for my taste, it still could have used more onion flavor.  I was also a little disappointed in the Fontina; despite the fancy Euro name, it tasted almost exactly like Monterey Jack (but of course cost more).  I think a slightly more assertive cheese would be my preference if I made this again.  Either that, or I’d put a little Dijon mustard on it.  I also added a sprinkle of salt and pepper to my onions before putting them on the sandwich.  With a green salad, it was a simple but satisfying lunch, if not altogether nutritious.

The Asparagus-Shrimp risotto was also familiar ground, but I thought I would try his method of making a simple, light stock out of the trimmings rather than use the usual chicken stock.  I have to say, though, 1/4 lb shrimp does not make for a heck of a lot of shrimp shells, so don’t expect a pronounced seafood flavor.  I actually save shrimp shells in the freezer for occasions such as this, though, so I was able to amp it up a little.  (I used more than 1/4 lb shrimp, too- more like 1/3 or 1/2 lb.)

You probably know the drill with making risotto, but to sum up the recipe: 2 cups arborio rice, 1 1/4 lb asparagus (skinny works well for this recipe), 1/4 lb shrimp (or more), 1 onion, 9 cups H2O, 1/2 c dry white wine, 4 tbs butter, a few tbs Parmigiano.  Trim the asparagus, reserve the tips and cut the stems into 1/3-inch rounds.  Dice the onion and shell the shrimp; put the trimmings from the above ingredients into a stockpot with the water and simmer for at least 30 minutes.  Melt 3 tbs butter in a large skillet and add the asparagus stems and onion and cook until onion begins to soften; add 2 cups arborio rice and cook another 5 min or so.  Add wine and cook until evaporated.  Start adding the hot stock, about 3 ladles’ worth at a time, ladling it through a strainer, stirring as it cooks down, repeating the process as the stock gets absorbed.  Before the final addition of stock, add the raw shrimp and asparagus tips.  I like to cut each shrimp into 3 or 4 pieces, so that it’s more evenly distributed through the risotto, but also so it cooks in the same time as the asparagus tips.  Since the stock is unsalted, you’ll need to add a fair amount of salt, which you can do at this stage.  According to Parsons, your result should be fairly soupy (it does tend to thicken up a bit as it sits).  Add the final tbs butter and the cheese, and enjoy with a green salad (I made a lemon-Dijon- Parmigiano vinaigrette) and a crisp glass of white.

yogurt economics

Several weeks ago, Harold McGee wrote about making your own yogurt in the New York Times, and Mother’s Kitchen happened to  post about it.  It got me thinking I should give it a whirl, seeing as how I almost always have yogurt in the fridge and use it for a variety of purposes.  It took me a few weeks to get around to it, but once I did, I wondered what on earth I had been waiting for.  Call me converted!

The process itself couldn’t be simpler: just heat some milk to about 180 degrees (it will just be starting to steam), let it cool down to about 110, stir in a spoonful of yogurt, let it sit in a warm place, and let nature take its course.  McGee provides specifics for keeping your yogurt warm, how long to leave it out, etc. but I found the “recipe” to be forgiving- I accidentally left my yogurt on the counter overnight rather than the 4 hours prescribed, to no ill effect.

McGee suggests that if you don’t have an “heirloom” starter, the major supermarket brands are actually the most reliable as they contain the most active cultures. I wanted to experiment a bit, so I bought small containers of both plain old Dannon and Fage Greek yogurt so I could taste-test and compare.  For the milk, I just bought a gallon of organic milk from Meijer*.  I made 2 cups of each type of yogurt.  I obviously had lots of milk left over because I had planned on making homemade ricotta as well, but that’s another story.  I taste-tested the two after they had chilled, and I couldn’t detect a huge difference- they both tasted more mellow and less sour than their originators, and both had a pleasant texture.  Obviously, the yogurt from the Fage starter was unstrained, so it didn’t have the thickness of the purchased product, but that can easily be obtained with some cheesecloth and a strainer.

So, on to the economics:  My total investment was about $3.35 for 8 cups of yogurt (actually, almost 9 cups, if you count the cup of purchased yogurt).  Now, I don’t know where you shop, but the cheapest I have seen organic yogurt is at Trader Joe’s for $2.99 for 32 oz (4 cups).  As you can easily see, this works out to about half price, especially when you consider that once you have your yogurt going, you can use that to start the next batch, so future batches would only cost as much as your milk.  If you compare price to the individually-sized containers, the savings get even more ridiculous.  And if you’re wondering whether it’s worth it time-wise, I really only spent a few minutes actively “doing” anything.  As an added bonus, I love the thought of all the plastic containers it will save.  I do recycle them, but even still.

Of course, over and above all of this, the satisfaction of knowing you made something from scratch is (as the ads would say) priceless.

*random linguistic aside: For some bizarre reason, many Southeast Michiganders feel compelled to add an “S” at the end of some business names, as in “I work at Ford’s”, or “I shop at K-Mart’s”.  (In trying to avoid this awkward-sounding linguistic oddity, it even feels unnatural for me to say “Trader Joe’s”, and I sometimes overcompensate and call it “Trader Joe”…)  So when typing “Meijer”, I actually had to check to see if it was in fact Meijer or Meijer’s.  (It’s Meijer now, but it actually DID used to be Meijer’s, because the full name of the store was Meijer’s Thrifty Acres… anyone remember that?)

book club: “how to pick a peach” by russ parsons

Pop quiz: a) What fruits and vegetables should you NEVER refrigerate?  b) Which ones should you wash before refrigerating?  c) What is the difference between climacteric and non-climacteric fruits?*  You’ll find the answers to these questions and much more in Russ Parsons’ book How to Pick a Peach.  A follow-up to his book How to Read a French Fry, which explored questions of “kitchen science”, How to Pick a Peach sets out to educate the produce consumer on how to choose, store and prepare produce, while also giving great background information on how we arrived at the selection we have today in our grocery stores and farmers’ markets.  The book is organized by seasons, and each chapter covers a particular item or family of items (for example, apples get their own chapter; broccoli & cauliflower are grouped together).  The bulk of the chapters discuss the history of that food, how it came to be developed, farmed, distributed, etc.  Each chapter ends with short segments labeled How to Choose, How to Store, How to Prepare, and One Simple Dish.  Three to four recipes are given for each chapter that highlight that chapter’s fruit or vegetable.  The chapters are interspersed with article-length segments such as “When it’s OK to buy Unripe Fruit”.

I thought this book would be a good choice as we head into that time of year when the farmers’ markets start to get into full swing.  Although I have a pretty good idea of what is in season when, this book was definitely a great refresher course.  Not only that, but I learned some things that surprised me and will certainly make me change my habits, especially in regards to storing food.  I also very much enjoyed reading the histories of the different paths that our produce and farming practices have taken over the years.  Some of it is a bit depressing, such as reading about how many items are bred purely with shipping and storage concerns in mind, but overall the book had a positive tone, highlighting many instances where flavor is winning out over durability or aesthetics.  The subtitle of the book is “The Search for Flavor from Farm to Table”, and Parsons does focus on informing us about what varieties of certain fruits or veggies are especially known for good flavor. His instructions on selecting and storing produce are also geared not only towards avoiding spoilage, but optimizing flavor as well.  I think what I will ultimately take from this book is a positive sense that we are slowly but surely heading back towards the right direction, as well as some crib notes to keep in my wallet until I have the whole climacteric/ non-climacteric thing memorized!  (In fact, the book could have been greatly improved by including a tear-out pocket guide… perhaps an idea for future editions?)

Recipes: The recipes Parsons provides are nothing groundbreaking, but it’s nice to get a few ideas at the end of a chapter, and most of the recipes are easy and “familiar” enough that you could knock them out without a lot of fuss or advance planning.  I made two recipes from the book, a grilled cheese with onions and an asparagus risotto, which you can read about here.

*a) Never refrigerate potatoes, onions or tomatoes; b) You shouldn’t wash anything before refrigerating; the moisture causes breakdown and more rapid spoilage to occur; c) climacteric fruits can ripen after being picked, while non-climacteric fruits need to be picked at their ripest and will not improve after picking.

Discussion questions: (please feel free to answer one, a few, or all!)

1. Why do you think Parsons selected a peach as his title fruit, rather than a pear, plum, or some vegetable?
2. Generations ago, a book like this probably would not have been necessary.  The smaller amount of items available would have meant that the average person would not have needed the breadth of knowledge that we do when we go to the supermarket. We now have a disconnect from many items because they are not local and thus less familiar, and therefore we find ourselves in a position of having to “re-educate” ourselves as consumers.  Is the greater variety worth the trade-off?  How much time and effort are you willing to spend to ensure that you are selecting the best possible produce?
3. One of the topics discussed in the book is the supply chain and how it affects what varieties are propagated.  How important is it to you to have a wider variety of items, some shipped from across the country or imported, versus having better quality items that can be found locally?
4. It stands to reason that if consumers stopped buying flavorless peaches, tomatoes, etc, growers would be forced to adapt.  Why and how did people become disinterested about the flavor of their food?  How much blame, if any, should be placed on the average consumer (or the farmers) for the quality of produce found in our grocery stores today?
5. What do you think the future holds for the flavor of fruits and vegetables, the way the supply chain functions, and for the overall quality of our food?

michael symon’s roast: a celebration of the flesh

Vegetarians, mosy along, nothing to see here…

Do you love meat?  I mean, do you really love meat?  Do you lay awake at night, thinking of what you could do to a side of wild boar or a tender baby lamb?  Michael Symon almost certainly does.  His newest restaurant, Roast, in downtown Detroit’s Book Cadillac Hotel, is a celebration of all things meat.  It’s a perfect example of taking an ingredient, treating it simply but respectfully, and thereby elevating the whole dish beyond the sum of its parts.  Symon’s farm-to-table philosophy ties in with the idea that quality ingredients don’t need a lot of embellishment or fuss to make a memorable meal.

I had heard good things about Roast, and had gotten a bit of a preview from Marvin, who photographed Symon and the restaurant for an article in Model D.  So when he suggested going there for a Mothers’ Day dinner, I was all for it.  (I apologize for the lack of photos, but I didn’t want to be interrupting his mom’s nice dinner with a photo shoot, so you’ll just have to check out some of the links I provided to see pics.)  My initial impression of the restaurant was that it looked impressive but was not at all my style décor-wise; the dining room is very modern-neutral; the music ”urban contemporary”.  But as soon as I opened the menu, I was so giddy at the selection that it could have looked like a TGI Friday’s and had Kenny G on the speakers and I probably wouldn’t have cared.

Several of the appetizers caught my eye, but we settled on the Roasted Marrow and the Beef Cheek Pierogies.  (The Cripsy Chicken Livers is definitely on the list for next time, though.)  I had never had marrow except in osso buco, and it was not at all what I expected.  I thought it was going to be dark red and taste very earthy, like blood, but it was actually more like soft, gelatinous fat.  It was garnished with gremolata and lemon wedges, with toasts to spread it on.  I thought it was good, and was glad to have tried it, but it was too rich to eat very much of.  The pierogies, a signature dish, were very good; the beef cheek reminded me of oxtail in texture and flavor.  The horseradish and mushroom sauce made me want to lick the plate.  My only slight critique is that they were a tiny bit doughy.  Still delicious though!

For my entrée, it was a tough call.  I had almost decided on the Braised Lamb with Fennel and Tomato, but changed my mind upon learning that the Roast Beast of the day was suckling pig.  It was served simply, piled on the plate and topped with a small mound of colorful, vinegary chiles and onions and garnished with pieces of cracklins.  Many of the main dishes are sold à la carte, as was Marvin’s Rack of Wild Boar, so we also got sides of asparagus and polenta (flavored with garlic and honey, and the creamiest I have ever tasted).  As I sat there eating my pile of pork, I felt incredibly fortunate (and a little guilty) to be having such a decadent and amazing meal.  Even though I was just eating roast pork and not truffles or foie gras, part of the decadent/ pampered feeling was due to the fact that the service was so impeccable; our waiter was attentive to the slightest detail,  providing helpful wine pairing suggestions and happily answering all of our questions about the menu.

If you go to Roast, it’s fun to also take a peek at the hotel’s posh common areas.  Marvin’s mom used to work in one of the lounges at the Book Cadillac when he was a kid, so after dinner we took a short stroll through the lobby and lounge area of the hotel, which has been immaculately updated.  I had never been inside the building, but according to her it was hardly recognizable from its former incarnation.

I may not get a chance to get back to Roast for dinner any time soon, but I hope to check out their new Cocktail Hour, which features $3-$4 “bites” and would, I expect, be a great way to sample the restaurant’s treats on a budget.  Joe Posch, author of the aforementioned Model D article and blogger at Detroit Drink Tank, wrote about Roast’s cocktail hour here, and interviewed bar manager Frank Ritz here.  To read another blogger’s take on the Roast dinner experience, check out Amy of Runs With Spatula’s review here.

P. S. Congratulations to Chef Symon for winning the James Beard award for best chef in the Great Lakes region, and for Roast being named 2009 Restaurant of the Year in the Detroit Free Press.