With a Hint of Burnt Popcorn

                                   

If failure had a scent, it would probably smell something like burnt popcorn.

That quick moment where you walk away from the stove from what you thought was a couple of minutes and your first indication of a ruined batch is the acrid perfume of blackening corn kernels.

After this most recently happened to me, I took a close look at my pot of failure and thought that biting into a whole kernel would definitely be off-putting. But I couldn't bring my self to throw away the disappointing results. I did dispose of the whole burnt kernels just leaving the remnants and I decided to cook quinoa in the same pot with salted water hoping that the beyond smokey flavor would permeate the grains and give a hint of something familiar, yet unfamiliar in its context. 

I boiled the quinoa in the burnt popcorn water until completely evaporated, let it cook a bit longer so the quinoa started to toast and almost burn itself. I then quickly stirred everything to mingle all the textures and flavors from the bottom of the pot.

Delicious.

I might actually prefer it this way. Though I struggle with the fact that I may have to purposefully burn popcorn every time, I believe I'll get used to it.

Complementary

shrimp shell broth

celery root dumpling

crispy beef feet

shrimp

sunchoke powder

thai basil

Broth is a great vehicle for layering flavors without one particular ingredient standing out. All of the components work together to create a harmonious focal point. There is no star to the dish, the dish itself is the star. One could easily say that the shrimp plays first fiddle, but I think that diners and chefs are almost conditioned to give the starring role to a protein. The bold item with the larger font held up by the starch, sauce, vegetable and herb; all in a smaller and less bold font. The stigma of entrées.

Hear me out, there is nothing wrong with having a star protein. The juicy, thick, bone-in ribeye smothered in mushrooms & peppercorns propped atop mashed potatoes or the roast chicken leg amongst a smattering of root vegetables from the same pan. These are all delicious ways to eat. However, it seems as though we cannot come away from this idea. When your eyes dart past the Entrées section of a menu it's almost as if every dish is set up in this A-B-C format. This is why I almost always eat from the appetizers and snacks section of most menus and just enjoy an assortment of flavors in smaller bites that won't leave me feeling like a gluttonous schmuck. The usual exceptions for me are often big bowls of soup or varied plentiful salads. These as a main course are often loaded with multi-layered flavors and ingredients that all support each other equally and give you a different experience with each bite. 

The broth was made from shrimp shells, garlic, onion & celery and seasoned with salted tomato water.

The shrimp was poached in a beurre monte with herbs.

The beef feet is left over from making beef broth, deboned, patted dry and pan fried.

The celery root dumpling is made from boiled celery root, flour and egg. Also crisped in the pan.

The sunchoke powder is made from the leftover trimmings and peels of sun chokes, dried in the oven and then pulverized in a spice grinder.

Burnt Onion Stock

made from charring individual onion petals directly over gas flame until most of it turned black, then simmered in water with garlic, thyme and star anise for half an hour.

It has a deep caramelized flavor and reminds me a bit of tree bark.

Chicken Liver Bottarga

salted livers daily over 5 days.
results in an intense and pungent aroma.
has a deep liver flavor.

would probably go great with chocolate.
could lend a nice depth to seafood and vegetables.
undeniable on pasta.

Preserved Lemon Gimlet

preserved lemon

simple syrup

Hendrick's Gin

shaken & served over ice

thai basil garnish

summer is here

Sunchoke Powder

made from the peels and trimmings of sunchokes oven-dried at 200ºF then pulverized

why not season our food with vegetables?

Pulled Tripe

Crispy Pulled Tripe

Mashed Chickpeas

Mustard Green

Leeks

Fermented Eggplant Brine

Burnt Corn Husk Oil

My new favorite technique with tripe is to pressure cook it (for at least 30 min.), pull it into strands while it is still warm and then pan fry. The strands, I find, make for an interesting texture that is wonderful in soups, but in efforts to give tripe a starring role I decided to pair it with a quick mash of chickpeas with herbs and roasted garlic, raw and spicy mustard greens and the tender part of leeks that were dressed in my own fermented eggplant brine and burnt corn husk oil. I also poured some more of the dressing around the plate.

Burnt Toast

What can be learned from mistakes?

Often we try to not make them again.

But what if the mistake is a blessing in disguise?

What can we do to turn that mistake into the opposite?

Do we even try?

Do we just assume it's a mistake from what we've been taught or because it strayed from our original plan?

Perhaps every mistake is a discovery.

Cinnamon-Smoked Bacalao

The best part of waking up, is smoking the fish you were curing the day before (I know that had you singing in your head). That christmas morning-like anticipation that also occurs when grilling marinated meats, fermenting vegetables and braising stews. Letting the flavors permeate and the texture of flesh transform. 


This anticipation is coupled with that nervous feeling predicting potential failure after all of that work and patience. Lately I've been trying more indoor smoking techniques and all the trials have turned out successful. I found a sushi mat I got as a gift years ago, still wrapped in it's clearance-rack make-your-own-sushi kit. Once I finally thought of a real use for it, I opened it up and used it as the smoking platform for the cod.


I seasoned the cod filet generously with salt the day before. I rinsed it off this morning and wok-smoked it over applewood and vietnamese cinnamon bark for 15 minutes (it was a small filet, though I don't think smoking longer would've resulted negatively; in fact, I wish I had smoked it longer and next time I will). 


It is reminiscent of a fresh bacalao, which is an oxymoron, I know; but the over-saltiness allows it be used in similar preparations with a more delicate approach and result. 
I flaked the meat carefully by hand into fairly large chunks and have it ready in my arsenal for a quick cold appetizer or a delicious sandwich.

Fermented Cocktails: The Good & Plenty

There's a lot of preservation in my house right now. Finding various cool and dark spots to store jars of lemons, eggplant, cabbage, cauliflower stems and the like to allow lactobacillus to work it's magic. That magic results in a complex, yet simple, fermentation process where a quick pickle or marination has no match. Complex in it's science, simple in it's preparation. I'll hopefully get into more detail on preserved vegetables and fermentation in a future post.


Though the star of fermentation is the vegetable, the workhorse and liaison is the brine or juice in which it  sits. It's a great salty addition to braised greens or in a vinaigrette. And, of course, to re-use for your next batch of preserved such and such.


 Salt and/or vinegar can play a subtle yet effective role in a cocktail. Which led me to the idea of using the fermentation brine.


The following was mixed in a cocktail shaker and served up:


red cabbage sauerkraut brine
simple syrup
Absolut vodka
Sambuca
ice


First of all, it tasted exactly like a Good & Plenty. Unfortunately, I don't like Good & Plenty's, so I had a negative bias towards this drink. The most fascinating thing about it though, was the texture. It had a more viscous texture that I really enjoyed. Now, I only tried this cocktail served up, so I wonder how the dilution of ice would react with the viscosity. It might cut it back for better balance.


Also, it came out cloudier than I'd like. I worry if the brine could be clarified that it'll lose that beautiful purple hue.


All in all, fermented cocktail is not the correct term for this, as that alludes to the whole beverage being fermented (another interesting idea, on the heels of barrel-aging) but I don't know what else to call it.


So there.