Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Cultured Kitchen Part 3 - Yogurt

I made the most delicious tropical smoothies today and I wanted to come and post about them, but then I realized that I used my home made yogurt in them... and I've been promising a yogurt post for some time. 



Yogurt is actually a lot easier than you would think.  I never would have suspected.  By far the most valuable informational resource I've found is here.  The author is a biology/chemistry professor and has essentially put a cheese making primer up on the web.  It has everything, start to finish, from basic culturing (yogurt) on up.  The method I use is basically his, with some slight modifications that work for me.  A lot of what follows here is just a restatement of what's on his site.  


If you're consistent about the basics, you can fiddle with the process a bit and still get good results.
Fundamentally, making yogurt consists of three steps:
1. Scald the milk - this kills off any microbes already present and makes sure you're not starting with any organisms that'll interfere (compete) with your culture.
2. Cool and inoculate the milk - bring it down to your intended incubation temp and mix in your culture.
3. Incubate - maintain a constant temperature that your culture likes for a few hours until the pH drops enough for the yogurt to gel.


Basic Yogurt


1/2 or 1 gal whole milk.  You can process whatever amount you choose, I just find that it's more trouble than it's worth for less than a half gallon.  USE WHOLE MILK.  Reduced fat milk just isn't as good.  You'll get flavor that is less rich and tends to be more astringent than pleasantly tart.
Large, non-reactive pot.  Enamel or stainless steel.
Food thermometer.  You can try to wing it, but I wouldn't recommend it.  There are signs you can use to gauge when the milk's at the proper temperature, but they tend to rely a lot on long experience, and are otherwise too subjective.  Without precise temperature data, it becomes much more difficult to achieve the desired sterilization and incubation temperatures, and thus much more likely that your yogurt will fail.  
1 cup very fresh yogurt per gallon of milk.  Oddly enough, you don't have to be too picky.  Any brand of store-bought yogurt will do.  You should use plain, but even the flavored kind if that's all you can get (though there will be a hint of that flavor in your finished yogurt.  I suggest you avoid artificial sweeteners).  It just has to be fresh, live-culture yogurt.  Check the date.  I like Nancy's Organic if I have to replace my own culture for some reason, and I like to add a little bit of Kefir if I can.
Very clean containers.  These will be the containers you'll store your yogurt in.  I like to reuse store-bought dairy containers (from yogurt, cottage cheese, sour cream, that sort of thing) or else canning jars.  You don't necessarily have to sterilize these, just wash them well with soap and hot water (and rinse thoroughly).
Something to use as a water bath.  Something that will fit in the oven.  I use a deep roasting pan.


1.  Pour the milk into the pot.  Over medium to medium-high, heat the milk, stirring frequently and checking temperature, until it reaches 185-195 degrees F.  Remove from heat and cover.  From here on out, you want to avoid introducing any microbes except the ones you intend to add.
2.  Place the pot in a sinkful of cold water.  Monitor the temperature of the milk until it drops to 125.  Remove from cooling bath.  
3.  In large liquid measure, mix hot milk and yogurt 1:1.  Pour back into pot and stir thoroughly to inoculate.  Pour the inoculated milk mixture carefully into your prepared containers.
4.  Place containers in water bath.  The temperature of the water should be as close to 125 as you can get it.  In most homes, that's about the temperature at which the water leaves the hot tap, but use your thermometer.  The thermophilic bacteria in your yogurt culture work best between 115-125 degrees.  At about 122 putrefactive (spoilage) bacteria are inhibited.  The guys in your yogurt die at 130, though, so you're a little on the high side of their preferred environment, but they'll work fast at these temps.
5.  Place the water bath in an unheated oven and close it to hold in the warmth.  Dr. Fankhauser uses a tightly closed picnic cooler for his water bath.  You can turn on the oven light to help maintain temp, but leave the thermometer in the bath and watch the temp.  I haven't always used a water bath, and at least once, the oven light alone produced enough heat to overheat my yogurt and about half of that batch didn't set up.
6.  Check the yogurt in about 3 hours.  It should have gelled/set.  It won't be quite as firm as store-bought yogurt, because we haven't used any chemical stabilizers.  Remove it from the bath and store the containers in your fridge.  I highly recommend trying a little of your fresh, warm yogurt first, though.  It's a unique and pleasant experience.


Give Dr. Fankhauser's labneh recipe a try, too, or just try a greek-style yogurt (stir the yogurt to break the matrix and strain off some of the whey to thicken it).  Good stuff.



Tropical Smoothies - serves 3-4


~1/4 of a fresh pineapple, prepared (about 3/4 - 1 c)
1 c plain yogurt
3 ripe mangoes, peeled and pitted
~2 tbsp fresh lime juice (about half a lime or two mini-limes)
1/2 tsp vanilla
6-8 frozen strawberries
1/2 - 1 c white grape juice or non-concentrate orange juice


optional - 2 tbsp toasted wheat germ


Place all ingredients except fruit juice in blender.  Blend, starting on low and increasing speed until all ingredients well-blended.  Add juice as necessary to thin.

Saturday, April 16, 2011

Strawberry Melomel 2010

I put this on my FB, too, so if you follow me there, this is nothing different.  I do plan to get a yogurt-making post up pretty soon.  I just made some last weekend, and I refined my process a little, so I'd like to get that shared.




This fruit mead is much more complex that what you'd expect from, well, anything with strawberries. 
For starters, the color is a rich amber, more like a spirit than what one would normally find in a wine.  The nose carries strawberry, of course, but also strong components of hazelnut and apricot with just a hint of dates.  It is lightly sweet on the tongue with a nicely balanced tartness.  The flavor shows off its component strawberries, but also carries notes of white cherry, apple, and apricot.  The finish is light and fresh, with a lingering touch of hazelnut, vanilla, perhaps even caramel.

Saturday, March 19, 2011

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

For St. Patrick's Day, we couldn't afford corned beef (I'm sorry to report that there was no Guinness to be had, either), but we did have cabbage in the house, and potatoes, so we went hunting for some other fare to celebrate our (admittedly somewhat distant - four generations, in my case) Irish heritage.  



Roast Breast of Chicken with Cabbage and Bacon
Shockingly enough, I (mostly - my modifications are italicized) followed this recipe, which Melanie found for us on razzledazzlerecipes.com.  


6 slices bacon, cut crosswise into 1/4-inch strips
2 T. canola or vegetable oil Use the fresh bacon grease in lieu of oil.  It's available and it adds flavor.
4 boneless, skinless chicken breast halves (2 breasts)
2 medium onions, thinly sliced
2 medium cloves garlic, peeled and minced
2 C. shredded green cabbage
2/3 C. homemade chicken stock or canned low-sodium broth
2 T. whipping cream or half-and-half
2 T. butter
salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

Preheat oven to 375°. In a large skillet, cook the bacon over medium heat until crisp. Drain on paper towels. Pour grease from pan.  There is no earthly reason not to save that bacon grease.  Also, you'll use this pan later for the cabbage and onions.  Make sure it's large enough.  Trim the fat and tendons from the chicken breasts.

In a large ovenproof skillet set on medium-high heat, heat a tablespoon oil (bacon grease).  Add chicken and brown lightly, about 2 to 3 minutes on each side. Transfer the pan to the oven and bake chicken 15 minutes, or until cooked through.  I don't have a cast-iron skillet.  Instead, I preheated an 8x8 glass baking dish in the oven while I was browning the chicken in the bacon pan, then added 1 Tbsp of the bacon grease to the baking dish and roasted the chicken in that.  


In the pan in which the bacon was cooked, heat the remaining tablespoon oil (bacon grease) over medium heat. Saute the onions and garlic 5 minutes. Add cabbage and mix well. Add stock or broth (Use the juices from the roast chicken pan for part of this), bring to a boil, and cook, stirring frequently, until the cabbage is tender, about 10 minutes. Add cream and cook until thickened. Stir in the butter and add the bacon. Season with salt and pepper.

Slice the chicken, stir into the cabbage and serve.  Baby potatoes (red or gold) make a great accompaniment.  Just boil them in salted water for about the time it takes to prepare the rest of this.  Check them frequently for doneness after about 30 minutes.




Melanie also made Irish Soda Bread to go with this, but the recipe is subscribers-only from America's Test Kitchen, so I wouldn't feel right posting it here.  Here's a link to it, though: Skillet Soda Bread.  I will say that, not having a skillet, using an ungreased 9-inch cake pan on a pizza stone gives excellent results.  It was fantastic and quite simple, and just based on the description they give, someone could probably recreate it - I mean, it's a glorified biscuit, right?

The Cultured Kitchen - part 2: Sourdough

This is the part where I finally get around to writing about sourdough.  Not quite as dirt-simple as buttermilk, but still relatively undemanding.


There are a hundred variations on sourdough starter and then some.  At its base, it's just a live yeast culture, a holdover from a time before there was such a thing as active dry yeast.


Anybody can make a good starter from active dry yeast.  The only real trick is to keep it fed until it's well-established.  From then on, it pretty much maintains itself.  The most basic versions just involve mixing active dry yeast, water, and flour.  Mine is a touch more complicated, but it works very well.  I've experimented with yogurt and such for a more complex culture.


Sourdough Starter
~48 hours


1 1/2 cups flour, plus more as needed
1/4 tsp or 1 packet active dry yeast
1 cup warm water, plus more as needed
optional: 2 Tbsp plain yogurt, 1/4 buttermilk, or 1 crushed kefir grain
1 Tbsp milk
1 tsp sugar


1. In medium bowl, mix together all ingredients.  Stir well, cover loosely and place in a relatively warm location, such as the top of the refrigerator or next to the stove.  
2. Stir every 8 to 12 hours, adding 2 Tbsp or so flour and another Tbsp warm water each time.  The mixture will become bubbly and eventually develop a sour, yeasty smell.  If the kitchen is warm enough, this may happen in as little as 24 hours, but usually takes about 2 days.  It will expand vigorously, sometimes more than double, so make sure the bowl is big enough.
3. Once the starter is established, transfer ~2 cups in a medium-small bowl with a lid and refrigerate.  You can also freeze a cup of the starter in a well-sealed freezer bag (I double-bagged mine) with all the air squeezed out.  
4. If you don't use it frequently, take it out of the fridge and feed it once every week or two.  Just remove 1/2 cup of starter, and mix in 1/2 c. flour and ~1/2 cup warm water (it should be a moderately thick batter consistency, but fairly glutinous).


Troubleshooting/Maintenance:
The starter will probably separate and develop a liquid layer on top.  This is not a problem.  Generally, you'll just want to mix that back in before you measure it out for use.


Turning colors - sometimes your starter will develop a skim on the surface that is an unusual color.  
A grayish or even black liquid on top is perfectly normal.  In fact, if you use whole wheat flour, you should expect it.
Any other color, like pink or green (or anything fuzzy) indicates contamination by another organism, one that is potentially pathogenic.  Throw it out!  Not only will it have off flavors, and be potentially useless, it could be harmful.  
This is where that portion saved in the freezer comes in handy.  Just thaw it gently in a bowl of warm water, then mix with additional flour and warm water.


Always wipe the sides of the bowl (with a paper towel or well-wrung sponge) down to the level of the starter when you replace it in the fridge.  The starter will normally maintain a sufficiently acidic environment to be hostile to pathogenic contaminants, but leaving dried goop on the sides provides a less-hostile place for them to colonize (no acid, and plenty of free, partially digested starches and sugars for food).  I used to be lazy about it, but since I started regularly wiping down the sides after use, I haven't had to toss a single batch.



I'll be honest:  about the only thing I ever make with sourdough is pancakes (although I did find a way to sneak some into my blueberry muffin recipe - adds a little more structure and enriches the flavor).  I like sourdough bread, but it's a lot more work, and Melanie's TMJ wouldn't allow her to eat it much anyway, so we hardly ever have any.  Pancakes, though... they can develop good flavor and texture and still stay tender.


Sourdough Pancakes
You have to start these at least an hour before you intend to eat, so they're best for mornings when you have lots of time or when you have to get up really early for a run or something, but they're very simple otherwise.  Serves 4-5.


8 oz sourdough starter
1 c all-purpose or whole wheat flour (or any combination thereof) + 1/2 c to maintain starter
~6 oz milk
1 Tbsp sugar
1/4 tsp salt
1 tsp baking soda
1 lg egg
1 Tbsp extra light olive oil


1. Mix starter with 1 c flour and enough milk to form a medium-thin batter (the thickness is largely a matter of preference, although too thick will make it really hard to work with and the pancakes will come out doughy, where way too thin will get you pancakes that run all over the place and don't rise properly).  I like to warm the milk gently in the microwave, because it helps the starter develop faster and I get a more robust sourdough flavor and texture in the final product.
2. Mix 1/2 c flour and 1/2 c water back into original starter, mix well and replace in fridge.  Let batter sit at least one hour.  Honestly, you can fudge this a little shorter but not much.  The longer it goes, the chewier and more flavorful your pancakes will end up.
3. After one hour, lightly grease and heat griddle to 350, add remaining ingredients and mix thoroughly.  This isn't like a lot of quick breads where you mix as little as possible.  Plus, you have to beat in that egg until it's evenly distributed.
4. Spoon onto griddle and cook until golden brown on both sides.
5. Serve immediately with butter and syrup. 



Minor Update - I've tried 100% whole wheat sourdough bread with some advice from Mark Bittman and found it quite wonderful.  Just as tender, and a little more flavorful than regular sourdough even.



An addendum to my part 1 post, to go with those biscuits:


Bacon Gravy
This is a nice, basic white gravy.  My dad showed me how to do this a few years ago.  Now, anyone who tells you that a roux is simple has been doing it too long.  Still, nothing makes awesome white gravy like bacon grease.  Nothing.
5-10 min.


2 Tbsp bacon grease
3-4 Tbsp all-purpose flour
2-3 cups milk


1.  Heat bacon grease in small saucepan over medium heat until melted.  Add enough flour to make a fairly thick roux.  You don't want it to start clumping and breaking like a dough, but a little thicker than the standard 1:1 ratio of fat to flour you find in most recipes.
2.  Stirring constantly with a whisk, cook roux over medium heat until it is bubbly and raw flour smell is gone, ~5 minutes.  Don't cook it hotter than that or forget to stir it or it can scorch.  Scorched flour taste will wreck your gravy.  If you start to see brown or black flecks or smell something acrid... you've burnt it.  You can cook a roux until it starts to brown naturally - in fact, some recipes require such a thing - but that's different from scorching it.
3.  This is the tricky part:  While stirring, slowly add milk, a little at a time, maintaining a smooth texture, until gravy is smooth (no lumps) and fairly thin (thinner than you'd want on your biscuits).  If you add too much milk, too quickly, you'll get lumps.  It must be carefully incorporated into the roux.  It helps to turn the heat down slightly.  If you add just a little too much, you can keep whisking until it regains a smooth, doughy texture, then continue adding carefully until it thins to a liquid.
4.  Heat to a gentle boil.  Boil at least 1 minute.  Mixture will thicken (you can add more milk at this point if it's too thick... just boil a little longer if you do).  
5.  Add salt & black pepper to taste.  Serve over biscuits with bacon.

The Cultured Kitchen - part 1

Yeah, Yeah.  I suck.  I dropped the ball back in November and haven't posted since.  So here it is, my cultured kitchen series.



By cultured of course, I mean the kind that involves various microorganisms.  In my kitchen, I generally use two or three different cultured products, all of which are varying degrees of easy-to-grow-and-maintain.


The easiest by far - and possibly the most useful - is buttermilk.  All you need is fresh milk, a starter culture and a quart jar, like so:


1 qt glass jar with lid, clean 
6-8 oz. buttermilk
~24 oz. milk


1. Clean the jar.  Hot water and soap will do, no need to really sterilize.
2. Add buttermilk to jar.  The amount used depends on how sure of your culture you are.  If the buttermilk is straight from the store, you're fine with 6 oz., but if it's been in your fridge for a few weeks (especially if it's past the use-by date), the culture will be weak and you'll want to use at least a full cup.
3. Fill the rest of the jar with milk.  It won't expand much at all, but it will produce a little gas, so I usually fill it to the neck, just below the threads.  The fresher the better.  The less time it's spent in your fridge, the less likely it is that spoilage organisms have had a chance to get to work.  If it's on the point of going sour, spoilage bacteria may out-compete your buttermilk culture.
4. Put the lid on tightly and shake well to mix.  
5. Loosen the lid and leave at a relatively warm room temperature (perhaps the counter next to the stove) for a full twenty-four hours or until you can see that it has clabbered.  It will be thick, like yogurt.  If you were to shake it up (which you'll have to do for even texture and measuring/pouring), it would remain almost milkshake-thick and would coat the side of the glass.  It should have a creamy texture and a slightly tart flavor, somewhere between sour cream and yogurt.
If it hasn't clabbered after 24 hrs, you can give it another 8-12, but beyond that, it'll start to develop off flavors, even turn sour/rancid.  At that point, or if it has a seriously off flavor, you'd have to assume that your starter culture was no good and start over. 


A note on milk (and this holds true for homemade yogurt as well):  Fresher is better, as noted above; but also, whole milk is better.  2% works just fine.  Skim milk is least best.  Whole milk will make the most pleasantly flavored cultured dairy products.  Skim milk is more heavily processed and may have additional milk solids or even lactose added to improve the color and texture once the fat has been removed.  It will result in thinner buttermilk, and because the bacteria metabolize the solids and sugars differently, it tends to lend a harsh flavor to anything you make with it, from buttermilk to yogurt or even cheese.



I said earlier that buttermilk is the most useful primarily because you can use it as your acid ingredient for any baked good that requires an acid (anything with baking powder or baking soda).  For example, I like to use it in pancakes, cornbread, and biscuits.


Buttermilk Pancakes
I'm giving you the doubled version below, because the original recipe only makes about 8 cakes.  This recipe is originally from How To Cook Everything, but I've modified it significantly. ~ 30 minutes, serves 4-6.


2 c flour (white or wheat - your preference.  I like 1 c. of each)
1 1/2 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
2 Tbsp Sugar
2 c buttermilk
2 lg eggs
2 Tbsp oil (I like extra light olive oil, but any vegetable oil works)
1 tsp vanilla (optional)


1. Heat griddle to 325 or 350 (griddle settings vary), grease lightly (pam works best, butter's too heavy, imo)
2. Mix dry ingredients in medium bowl
3. Beat together buttermilk, eggs and oil in 4c liquid measure
4. Stir liquid into dry ingredients just until moistened
5. Spoon onto hot griddle, turn once when most bubbles have popped and one side is golden brown.  Brown on the other side.
6. Serve immediately.


Buttermilk Biscuits
Also slightly modified from How to Cook Everything


2 c all-purpose flour
1 scant tsp salt
1 scant tsp sugar
3 tsp baking powder
1 tsp baking soda
2+3 Tbsp cold butter
1 c buttermilk


1. Preheat oven to 450F
2. Mix dry ingredients in medium bowl (can also use food processor).
3. Cut 2 Tbsp butter into chunks and blend well with pastry cutter (or pulse in food processor until well-blended).  Cut remaining 3 Tbsp butter into small cubes, <1/4 in.  Mix gently into dry ingredients until well-separated from each other.
4. Use large spoon to stir in the buttermilk, just until dough forms a ball.  Turn onto a floured surface and knead it ten times; no more.  If it is very sticky, add a little flour, but very little; don't worry if it sticks to your hands a bit.
5. Roll and press into 3/4-inch-thick rectangle and cut into ~2 inch rounds with cutter or glass rim dipped in flour.  Place rounds on ungreased baking sheet (I like to double my baking sheet - it acts like an insulated baking sheet and keeps the bottoms from getting too dark).  Gently reshape the leftover dough and cut again.  Optional - brush lightly with melted butter and dust with coarse salt.
6. Bake 7 to 9 minutes, until biscuits are golden brown.  Serve within 15 minutes for best results.

Saturday, October 23, 2010

You're really gonna eat that?

First, an apology.  I started this blog with the intention of making regular contributions... but I realize I haven't posted for nigh on two months now.  I've got a couple good posts I want to do in the next week or so, but then you likely won't hear from me for most of November, because I've gone off the rails and decided to do Nanowrimo this year in the hopes that it'll kick-start my creative engine... or something.

Stick around, though... this one's pretty interesting.



As some of you may know, I've been growing a larger-than-previously-attempted three sisters (more info) garden this year.  I grew Boston Marrow squash, Oaxaca Green Dent corn, and two varieties of beans, Cherokee Trail and October.  

I harvested the Boston Marrow (23 of them) about a two weeks ago.  Judging by the catalog description, I expected 10-20 lb fruits... I have to wonder if the bees brought in some hubbard pollen from somewhere, though, as the smallest of them likely tops 20 lbs, while the largest weighs in at just over 45 lbs!

The beans didn't really flourish this year, I suspect because I planted the squash a couple weeks before them (we had a frost on the first of June this year) and the squash shaded them early on.

I've been bringing in my corn over the last week or so as it dries.  And it's the corn, more or less, with which this post is concerned...

As I was doing research a year-and-a-half ago in preparation for this project, one of the little side trails I wound up exploring was about something called huitlacoche (don't you just love wikipedia for that?  You go to look up something normal, like the capital of Wales or whatever, and suddenly you look around and its four hours later and you're reading up on Kevin Bacon's second cousin or something).  Apparently, in the US, it's considered a nuisance, called "corn smut", and farmers work to eradicated it by any means possible, while in Latin America, they treat it as a delicacy.  Apparently, it's also quite nutritious, making a wider variety of nutrients available than the corn can by itself, among other things.  At the time, I simply found the subject mildly interesting in an "I'd-like-to-try-that-someday" way.  I grew up with parents who grew a garden that most often included sweet corn, and so I assumed it was something rare.  Imagine my surprise when I found first one, and then several examples of it on my corn!

I never got around to trying it because I wasn't at all sure how to prepare it.  Some of the things I'd read indicated that the immature galls were preferable because they were more tender and mildly-flavored.  The only samples I seemed to be able to find already had powdery black spores spilling out of them.  So today, when I was picking some of the last few ears in the garden, I ran across a small ear that looked newly infected.  The galls were small and still very fleshy.  As near as I understand it, the fungus can create tumors on any part of the plant, but the ones from an infected ear are preferable, and the fungus infects and takes over the developing kernels.  So, I decided to give it a shot.  My wife wasn't home at the time...

Most of the recipes I found called for half a kilo, but I only had about a cup, maybe a quarter pound, so I figured I'd have to improvise.  The most likely-looking recipe was a simple sauté starting with butter, onion, and garlic.  Here's what I wound up doing:


Basic Huitlacoche Quesadilla (serves 1)

2 Tbsp unsalted butter
1 c. huitlacoche, roughly chopped
1/2 sm onion, finely chopped (~1/2 c)
2 sm cloves garlic, minced
salt & pepper
1/4 c. shredded cheese, half cheddar, half mozzarella
2 flour tortillas

1.  Heat frying pan/skillet over medium heat, melt butter, add onions and garlic.  Heat until garlic is fragrant, add huitlacoche.  Cook until huitlacoche becomes tender and releases black juices (the pan contents start to look like everything's been doused with used motor oil).  Remove from heat.

2.  Heat a second pan over medium.  Lightly toast a tortilla on one side, remove and place other tortilla in pan.  Spread huitlacoche mixture on toasted side of tortilla.  Sprinkle with cheese.  When second tortilla is lightly toasted, place toasted side down on top of cheese.  Set entire quesadilla in pan and heat until cheese melts, turning so that both sides are lightly toasted and crisp.

I had mixed feelings about the results.  Overall, I'd say it was a moderate improvement on a plain quesadilla.  I like plain quesadillas.  On the other hand, while I quite liked the flavor of the huitlacoche (it was very mild, earthy, slightly sweet and toasty, maybe just a touch like corn, worth every bit of effort to obtain and prepare it), I could barely taste it over the flavors of the onions and garlic.  So next time, either I need a lot more huitlacoche (plus, that lets me make more...) or a lot less onion and garlic.

I'm thinking more like the 1/2 kilo (about a pound) the other recipes suggested, maybe even use some more mature galls to get a stronger flavor, but keep the amounts of onion and garlic the same.  I'd be tempted to fool around with a little oregano or cilantro, but I'd hate to mess with that flavor. Maybe some sour cream or salsa to dip...

So something more like this:

Adjusted Huitlacoche Quesadilla (serves 3-4)

2 Tbsp unsalted butter
3 c. huitlacoche, roughly chopped (~ 1 lb)
1/2 sm onion, finely chopped (~1/2 c)
2 sm cloves garlic, minced
salt & black pepper
2 c. shredded cheese, half cheddar, half mozzarella
6-8 flour tortillas

1. Cook same as above.



When my wife saw the mess I'd cooked, she pulled a face and said "I am NOT eating corn smut." I'll admit it looks pretty gross, but it tastes good. Part of the problem, too, was that she was thinking it was a mold (which, technically, is a kind of fungus, too), which it isn't (molds are typically in the phyla Zygomycota, Deuteromycota and Ascomycota, while huitlacoche (U. maydis) is in the phylum Basidiomycota.). Not that this in itself means it's harmless. I mean, deathcaps (Amanita phalloides) are in the same phylum. I've heard plenty of cautions about eating wild fungi, so you'd better believe I did my research.

That brings me to the one health-related caution I've found regarding huitlacoche: The sources I've found say that it acts in a way similar to (though milder than) ergot. It's been used by native peoples to induce labor and control post-partum bleeding because it induces uterine contractions. The wiki article mentions the chemical ustilagine, but there's not a related article. I did some searching and couldn't find any information about dosing, so I don't know how high a dose might be risky. As such, pregnant women should just stay clear, obviously. I did find another great article about it on the Cornell University website.

Save that one caveat, it appears to be a fantastic addition to my garden, not to mention surprisingly healthy and tasty, and no nastier conceptually (except to look at) than your average table mushroom; maybe less so, in fact, since huitlacoche grows on corn plants up off the ground, as opposed to on, you know, manure...

Sunday, August 29, 2010

Accidental Alfredo

Before I get started: it has been, shall we say, brought to my attention that in my last post I neglected to give due credit to one of the most significant influences on my cooking:  my wife.  Melanie has a BS in Dietetics and a Master's Degree in Nutrition.  She occasionally teaches classes for the local university and is a constant source of great recipes and food science tidbits.  She's also a far better baker than I, and her recent experiments with fondant are something to behold.  Suffice it to say that my work in the kitchen would not be what it is today with out her.  Love you, Honey!


I once read an article in Saveur about the origins of Alfredo sauce.  *Goes digging*  Ah, here's the pertinent excerpt:
Cream, it turns out, was not a component of the original dish. The recipe was invented at another Alfredo's, a humble Roman restaurant opened by a man named Alfredo di Lelio just after the turn of the 20th century, on the via della Scrofa near the Tiber River. As the story goes, after di Lelio's wife gave birth to their son, she lost her appetite. Di Lelio, determined to get her to eat, transformed his fettuccine al burro—a homely preparation of pasta tossed with butter and parmesan—by increasing significantly the amount of butter he used. The result was a more lavish dish, which neither his wife nor his customers could resist. (The Real Alfredo) 
Now, up until I read that article, all of my efforts at Alfredo had been something of a variation on a basic white sauce with butter, flour, parmesan and some kind of dairy - the Betty Crocker version.  They were pretty much always disappointing.  But the once or twice that I've tried to duplicate the recipe from Saveur, it hasn't gone well.  Gloppy, stringy, greasy, yuck.  I'm thinking now that it was because there wasn't enough heat involved to properly integrate the cheese with the butter, but more on that in a bit.

One of my favorite quick meals is to take a chicken breast, season it, and broil it.  From there, you can do pretty much whatever you want with it.  Salad, wraps, sandwiches, pasta, you name it.  I bet you could even chop it and throw it on top of a vegetable stew or something (sounds worth a try, right?).

So, I didn't really have any lunch plans after church today, but I had thawed a chicken breast so it was ready to go when I got home.  Fine.  Got it marinating, and then had to figure out what to do with it.  I'm thinking pasta.  I get some water going and throw in half a box of linguine.

I get to thinking that seasoned, grilled chicken over just plain pasta is kind of, well, minimalist, no matter how good the chicken is.  So I grab a wedge of parmesan and shred some (using the fine shredder on a box grater), thinking I'll just sprinkle it over the chicken.  But about the time the pasta's done, I get a better idea.  I'll pour any juices from the chicken over the pasta, along with some of the parmesan and a little extra virgin olive oil to give the pasta some flavor of its own.

What's funny is that at this point, I still have absolutely no thought of alfredo in my head.

So at the last second, I decide to take the pasta off a touch early and then throw it back on the heat for a bit to let it soak up my impromptu sauce (something called "marrying" the pasta to the sauce that I picked up from Lynn Rosetto Kasper's fantastic book, The Italian Country Table - even if you never use a single recipe, it's worth it for the insight into Italian culture and cuisine alone).  To do this, you usually have to leave a little of the pasta water in so the pasta doesn't scorch, and also because the starch in the pasta water helps make for a thicker, silkier sauce.

About the time I put it back on the heat and start tossing the parmesan with the pasta, it hits me:  This, what I'm doing here, this is alfredo sauce!  I mean, yeah, I'm using olive oil instead of butter (and not a ton of it at that), and I think there's probably too much pasta water, but basically, I'm making alfredo.  I kept it on the heat, tossed it gently until it was smooth, and then just kept it on a little longer until it was as thick as I wanted.

Once I tasted it, I thought, "This has to be the best alfredo sauce I've ever done, and I did it by accident."

The only thing I regret is that I didn't have a nice white wine chilling to go with it.  I think I would have liked either the Sauvignon Blanc from Nobilo, or Gnarly Head's Pinot Grigio, either of which I think would be really perfect with this.  Both fairly light, with a little bit of citrus, but enough acidity to balance the richness of the sauce.

I think there's a little room for improvement, really.  I could probably have got away with a little more olive oil, and certainly more cheese, in the sauce.  I'd also like to try it using the traditional butter instead of the olive oil, and maybe see how the garlic works with the rest of the flavors.

p.s. - I promise I'll get that sourdough post up soon!


Accidental Alfredo (with grilled chicken)
Serves 2-3 (doubles easily)
Prep: 30 min
Cook: 25 min


Chicken:

1 tsp      dry oregano
1/2 tsp   rubbed sage
1 tsp      dry thyme
             (Note: these are all herbs I've dried from my own gardens.  I prefer using fresh, but dry tends to work better for marinades)
2-3 tsp  black pepper (I'm guesstimating, here,  ~2 dozen turns on the pepper grinder.)
1 Tbsp  onion powder
3 Tbsp  extra virgin olive oil
1 Tbsp  red wine vinegar
1           boneless, skinless chicken breast (~1 lb)
sea salt
cooking spray
(I generally use garlic, and I could do a whole other post on the various ways to season broiled chicken breast, but this turned out quite nice sans garlic.  The truth?  I was out of garlic powder...)

1.  In ziploc bag, add all ingredients through vinegar.  Mix well, then add chicken and coat well.  Marinate ~30 minutes.
2.  Spray broiler pan rack with cooking spray (I like to line mine underneath with aluminum foil, since it catches the juices and saves me some trouble washing the bottom of the broiler pan).  Place chicken on rack, and sprinkle with coarsely ground sea salt (any other coarse salt, like kosher, should work as well).  Broil 8-10 minutes per side, until done through.  Sprinkle other side with salt upon turning.
3.  Remove from heat and slice ~1/4 in thick.  Turn off heat.  In 5-10 min, place oven-safe bowls in oven to warm.

Alfredo:
1/2 lb     dry pasta (linguine or fettuccine)
1 c         finely shredded Parmesan
3 Tbsp  extra virgin olive oil (4 Tbsp unsalted butter would probably do just as well)
black pepper to taste

1.  While chicken is cooking, add dry pasta to ~3 qt boiling salted water.  Cook 9 minutes and test for doneness.  Shred cheese.
2.  While the pasta is still firm and there is a tiny white core in the center of the noodle, strain out all but 1/2 to 3/4 c of the pasta water.  Reduce heat to medium and add any juices from broiler pan, 1/2 cup of the cheese, olive oil (or butter), and black pepper.  Stir and toss gently over heat until sauce is smooth and begins to thicken, ~1 min.
3.  Distribute chicken over pasta and sauce in warmed bowls.  Sprinkle with remaining Parmesan and serve.