Two Women Who Rock

I've been a bad blogger for the past month as I took some time off and got my thoughts together about what to eat next! As I looked around, I found some very cool video podcast resources that I want to share! Disclaimer: I have not had any contact with either of these fabulous women nor their website distributor!

Cocktails
The first set of v-casts are by the Orbit Room's sensational mixologist Alberta Straub. She's no longer at the Orbit Room, and to be honest, I've been totally unable to track her down! If anyone knows of her whereabouts, please clue me. I'm into Alberta, and would love to know what's she's up to!

Here's a couple of links to some of her v-casts. Some of them are techniquey, some are recipe oriented. The thing about her podcasts, while they're somewhat uneven and confusing from a creative standpoint, you really get the sense of how she approaches flavors and combining ingredients to make something fabulous! She's the real deal.

http://www.onnetworks.com/videos/cocktails-on-the-fly

Food Science
The second set are by a ridiculously spunky food science aficionado named Dr. Kiki. She's very bubbly and funny, but all of that barely masks a seriously brainy, hard core scientist who knows what she's talking about!

She's a prof at UC Davis, and somehow did these food science video podcasts. The content is a bit roughly presented and sort of uneven in depth (she could use some better writing!), but there are some amazing gems of information and she's a delight to watch getting all serious about teflon, the maillard reaction and my favorite, how to make your own home-grown ginger ale! She literally makes fresh ginger ale in a soda bottle. I love Dr. Kiki!

http://www.onnetworks.com/videos/food-science

Check out these vids. You won't be disappointed.

Bumper Crop 1: Apricot Season. Make Compote!

Every Thursday, I get a small box of fantastic produce from a local organic, sustainably managed farm called Terra Firma Farm delivered to my urban neighborhood. I just pick it up from an apartment building foyer a block from my house. When I lived in Pittsburgh, PA, I did the same thing from a farm called Kretschmann's.

The great thing about the organic fruit and vegetable box delivery is that you get the best and freshest of what's ripe up at that moment in the season while supporting a local organic farmer. The bad part is that you get a lot of what's ripe. Often more than one can reasonably consume. Recently, I had an apricot glut.

Compote!
Most commercially available fresh apricots are picked early so they're firmer and less likely to get bruised in transport. They ripen in your fruit basket, but they often lack punch. The ones from Terra Firma were picked pretty close to peak with plenty of punch, but I had a pound and a half of very ripe apricots. I decided to make compote because it keeps fairly well in the fridge, freezes well, and I don't know a thing about home canning.

The recipe is simple, and the results can be used to spoon over yogurt, ice cream, a slab of cake or just eaten right out of the bowl. From start to finish, this took me about 45 minutes, but it was not intense at all. There was plenty of time to do other things.

The Recipe
Start with 1 to 2 pounds of ripe fruit, halved and pitted. By following the natural seam along the side of the apricot with a paring knife, you end up with the pit lying flat on one of the halves, making it easy to remove.

Boil a cup of water with about 2/3 cup of white sugar, two tablespoons of Grand Marnier, and a vanilla bean. When the sugar has dissolved completely and thing are bubbling, turn down the heat and add the fruit. Let it simmer gently for about 3-5 minutes. Be careful not to let the fruit go too far, or it will become mush. You want it fork tender but still recognizable as fruit.

When nicely tender, use a spider to fish out the apricots and set them aside in a bowl. Next, halve a washed and scrubbed lemon, squeeze it fully into the syrup, then drop in the squeezed rind and top with a pinch of salt.

While the syrup is simmering, add a tablespoon of raspberry jam into the bowl of a small sieve or one of those mesh tea strainers that opens like jaws. Drop in the tea strainer or arrange the sieve so that syrup engulfs and dissolves the jam into the mix without allowing the seeds to get away. During the cooking, make sure you taste (after serious cooling time in the tasting spoon!) for the acid and sugar balance. It's a bit hard to predict depending on the fruit you started with, so tasting is the only way to go.

Carefully cook down the liquid until it's about half the original volume. Watch it a bit, stirring from time to time. When reduced enough, let it cool on the counter top to room temperature. Remove the rind, strainer and vanilla bean then pour the syrup over the fruit and refrigerate.

The resulting compote yields soft, luscious fruit with a tart, sweet, vanilla scented syrup that's perfect with vanilla ice cream, apple pie, or yogurt. This morning, I put some on top of pancakes.

Bamboo Shoots Don't All Come in Cans

Recently I bumped into a friend who had come from the Clement street shopping district in San Francisco, an area of the city known for Asian markets. He discovered fresh bamboo shoot, and he said it was remarkably good and totally different than the blanched, beige squares most of us think about swimming in our stir fry at the local restaurant. (Thank you, Remy!)

After hunting around a bit, I found some myself and did a bit of research to figure out what I was looking at. It turns out there are hundreds of varieties of bamboo, but only a few are good eating. For a list of the edible varieties, check out Gib, the bamboo maven. When you shop for bamboo shoots in a market, you're most likely to find giant or sweet bamboo, common eating varieties. Bamboo shoots are harvested when they're just a few inches high.

Preparation
If you're lucky enough to find fresh ones, peel, slice thinly or julienne them, and then boil for 30 minutes or more in plenty of water. Cooking not only softens up the woody fibers and leaches out bitter flavors, but it also dissipates a small amount of hydrocyanic acid, which not only tastes bad, but is...well...poison. So, don't forget to boil! They're done when tender and all traces of bitterness are gone.

What's Different
Fresh bamboo shoots have a firmer, snappier texture and fresh vegetal flavor that gets completely lost in canning. You can use them in salads, for garnish on soup, or of course in your favorite asian dishes. Since they can be cut many ways: paper thin slices, square twigs, or rounds, they make for an interesting visual as well as flavor component. I cut mine into thin sheets and rolled them around rice noodles, fresh basil, barbecued tofu pieces, and a smear of hoisin.

Chillis

Chillis are a fruit and a spice
Chillis are fruit because these often colorful pods bear seeds. And chillis are also a spice because its tender pith (or placenta) yields not only seeds but the pungent chemical capsaicin, a powerful palate burner with which we love to hurt ourselves in salsas, stews, and every manner of sauce. Apparently, we all love a little pain...chillis are the most cultivated spice in the world, followed distantly (a factor of 20) by black pepper.

A native of South America, there are hundreds of varieties of chillis grown throughout the world, though most we commonly eat come from a single species, the capsicum annuum. Those favorites include the bell pepper, jalapeno, ancho, seranno and even cayenne. Scotch bonnets, tabasco and a few others each come from other species, but there are only about five species we eat. No matter what kind you've got, note that chillis are hottest just before they ripen, but as time wears on, the potency wears off.

Making sense of the flavors
Chillis hotness come from capsaicin, a substance produced in the pith that migrates onto the seeds. If you want to remove heat from your chillis, split them in half or quarters and carefully excise the pith and seeds. You won't get rid of all the heat, but you'll reduce it significantly. Heat pungency is measured in scoville units, after Scoville the scientist. The scale is set at 1 for black pepper, and then chillis go up from there. Habaneros can reach 500K scoville units.

There are there are plenty of other flavor components in chillis other than heat, flavors that we regularly mess with and enhance by drying, smoking, and pulverizing. Chillis are in the same broad flavor family with eucalyptus and cinnamon. This family of flavors, the phenolics, are also found abundantly in wine, which in part explains why some wine writers talk about green pepper flavors and aromas when describing aromatic whites.

Choosing chillis
There's no great way to tell what a pepper will taste like, or even it's hotness, just by looking. There's no correlation between size and heat, shape, or flavor that you can rely on when shopping. You can discern ripeness in part by their green color, but the most reliable method for choosing the proper pepper is to sample, settle on a few varieties you like, and keep notes.

Chilli is a thickener
The walls of the chilli fruit are made of cellulose, so when they're dried and ground to a powder, they do a great job at thickening. The balance between their thickening power and the flavor they contribute is key, so make sure you taste before you adjust for thickening. It's easy to overheat a stew or sauce while you're trying to get the texture right.

Improvised Ribs

Making Ribs without a Grill
Yesterday my local market had a rack of heritage breed pork ribs. They looked so interesting, and even though I had never made them before (I'm ashamed to say), they looked too good to pass up. Everything I've heard about ribs reinforces slow cooking on a grill. But I had no charcoal and I was hungry. Was this a stupid move? Turned out no, not really.

The idea of slow heat in a shield of sauce is that the moderate heat and moist environment encourages tough connective tissue in the ribs (or any meat) to transform into gelatin. That's how we get that falling-off-the-fork tenderness that we all love in ribs, roasts and stews.

For ribs, brushing with barbeque sauce over a slow fire does the trick. Since grilling wasn't an option yesterday, I broke out the shallow braising pan with a tight lid and got it simmering with just a little stock. I looked for beer at first in the far reaches of my fridge, but all I had was Guinness in the crisping drawer, and I wasn't convinced that would taste all that great.

The 8 rib piece I had bought braised for about an hour and forty-five minutes, just barely bubbling. I watched Hitchock's Rebecca and had a glass of wine while they simmered away in the braising liquid. Definitely a recommended step.

Out of the Braising Pan Into the Fire
About 20 minutes before they were completely braised, I turned off the heat on the top of the stove and switched on the oven set to 400 degrees. As the stove warmed up, I made sauce. I didn't want to use a recipe so I started started with two tablespoons of soy sauce, a teaspoon of prepared mustard, a teaspoon of tomato paste, two heaping tablespoons of honey, a teaspoon (at least) of Frank's Red Hot sauce and a bunch of black pepper. It was decent, but it needed a little vinegar. After a few more adjustments, I decided to add a dash of bitters and some thinly sliced garlic. It was good, so I stopped while I was ahead, and I honestly don't know if the bitters helped.

The sauce was pretty viscous and when I spooned it onto the ribs, so it stuck well. I put the whole thing into a roasting pan and let it go for 20 more minutes. It caramelized nicely and finished tenderizing. They were done!

All in all, slow smoked ribs are better. There's no question. But for ribs in two hours without a grill, I have to say this braise then roast method was a winner, and I'd do it again.