The Kitchen Chronicles

Syrian eggplant purée

Another night of ordinary turkey burgers, but tonight's extraordinary experiment was a Syrian-style eggplant purée, from a recipe by my hero Claudia Roden, the food and cookbook writer. This one is from her book of Mediterranean food. All of her cookbooks are pure winners in my food library. Her recipes are often deliciously and deceptively complex, yet easy to make.

In this one, eggplant slices are roasted then puréed with two knives in a colander, not a food processor, which gives them a slightly coarse texture and lets some of the liquid drain. Then the purée is mixed with chopped garlic and fresh parsley, some olive oil and the magic ingredient -- pomegranate syrup, for a slight sweetness.

She's coming soon to speak in Seattle on a book tour for her new volume, Arabesque: A Taste of Morocco, Turkey, and Lebanon, which I intend to buy and get signed!

fresh, local and seasonal

Dinner tonight was very ordinary turkey burgers with some very extraordinary fresh corn, from the farmers' market this morning.

Although an unspectacular meal, it reminds me of my "mantra" for cooking -- trying as much as possible to eat fresh, local, and seasonal. Although long into shopping at farmers' markets, I found that the extended growing seasons of California meant that the Los Angeles markets had a cornucopia nearly all year round.

The situation in Italy was far different. The seasons were more, well, seasonal, and I loved that you could not really get everything you might need for a recipe whenever you wanted it. When asparagus was in season, we ate it all the time and then not until it came back in the market again the next year. Tomatoes only in the late summer, chestnuts in the fall, beets in the winter, etc. And so you adapt your cooking to the rhythms of the fields and forests.

Of course, this is not a new idea, but in much of America we don't eat from local farms, but get our food from supermarkets where it arrives from all over the world. Luckily, the state of Washington is a rich agricultural region and Seattle is blessed with a large number of weekly farmers' markets, some of which even run year-round. In the summer, they are just overflowing with all things wonderful. The philosophy and rules of these markets are that the vendors must be the actual farmers and they must grow everything they sell on their farms.

All of this is completely inspiring. I adore going to the markets and do it at least twice a week. I don't think I've bought more than the occasional ginger root or bananas (or other things that don't grow in Washington) at the regular co-op market since April.

So these days, we are eating a lot of corn, tomatoes, berries, beans and whatever else looks good, which is everything.

disappointing bbq

It's the first day of autumn and gorgeous sunny clear warm weather after a grey, cool, and damp week. We barbecue some chicken outside, but it's not the summer grill flavor we were craving. The sauce, I confess, was straight out of a bottle. Some sauteed favas, carrots, and onions were also somewhat disappointing.

The picnic lunch sandwiches, on a bike ride stop on the lake at Matthews Beach were much better. Leftover salmon (avanzi!) on Essential Bakery mille grane bread with fresh basil leaves and a dressing made from the marinade and a little yogurt.

l'shana tovah

Oy, vay, on Rosh Hashonah – enough with the Mexican food already! A third incarnation of the mole, this time with some Louisiana shrimp. Happy New Year.

knowledge worker food

We have had a few days of knowledge worker meals this week. I've been busy helping L develop her course web site and not paid as much attention to the cookbooks – serviceable but uninspired cooking.

Tonight I almost didn't make anything for dinner except reservations due to a low blood sugar state late in the afternoon waiting for L to come home. But some peanut butter and Brian Eno on the stereo saved the day and, fortified by fuel and music, I plucked something interesting from the precipice of culinary despair.

A nice 2+ pound wild Coho salmon fillet awaited only a marinade and oven-planking to arrive on our plates. The marinade, mildly Thai in flavor, was lots of chopped garlic, fresh ginger, and some hot green peppers mixed with sesame oil, soy sauce and lemon juice, and fresh Thai basil.

Lots of good avanzi!

leftovers

In Italian, leftovers are called avanzi, as in advances. This is not just a linguistic quirk; it signifies a different cultural attitude towards the food you don't finish at a meal. Leftovers are seen not as the dregs of a previous meal, but the potential for creating a new one.

We like this attitude here at Newport Way. Last night's mole for instance, reheated tonight, was even richer and more complex, since all the ingredients in it had more time to commune with each other.

But this is not really what the Italians have in mind for avanzi; the idea is to reuse them as an ingredient in a new dish. Another time…

chicken mole variation

I'm worried about L. I think the stress of preparing for the class she's going to teach is affecting her critical thinking.

Tonight I made another chicken mole dish and she pronounced it possibly the best meal I have cooked for her, perhaps forever if not just in recent memory. Now I was fairly pleased with this new variation I invented and thought it was even quite excellent and indeed eminently guest-worthy. But it didn't strike me as genius quality and certainly not a candidate for a lifetime achievement award!

But then she said that the modern eclectic versions of traditional Mexican and Hispanic cuisine (like the Border Grill in LA of the Two Hot Tamales fame) are just about her favorite class of food. Who knew? Have I been wasting all my considerable efforts on fish, Italian and Sicilian inspirations, and many other innovations over the years?!?! I thought some of those rated a MacArthur Genius grant, but maybe we should go live in Oaxaca now for a few years and I should cook for her there. Learn Spanish and go to all the markets and make friends with the vendors, while she writes a book about a small Mexican town. Hey, it was inspirational for Edward Weston, maybe I could become a photographer/chef. Hmmm.

Anyway, this mole I attempted to do a little more from scratch and it was an excellent amalgamation of flavors, I must say. The starting point was a recipe for mole rojo, from the Coyote Cafe cookbook (p. 29).

Dry-roasted ancho chiles in a cast iron pan, then simmered to reconstitute them. Pan-blackened fresh tomatillos and regular tomatoes. Oven-roasted and blackened red bell peppers. Caramelized red onions and already cooked corn removed from the cob. Oaxacan starter mole paste simmered in vegetable broth and roasted pepper juices.

Everything coarsely pureed and all simmered in one pot. Added some ground toasted almonds and cinnamon, black pepper, salt – could have lots more stuff from the recipe, but wasn't sure what was really in the starter besides chocolate. Chicken breasts sauteed in the pan juices then added to the pot.

Heated Trader Joe's handmade corn tortillas in the oven. Yogurt and heated blackberries and wild huckleberries for dessert later. Quite delicious, even if not the best ever.

braised halibut steak

Continuing the variations on the braised fish theme, tonight with a halibut steak. Favas, carrots, a tomato and garlic sauteed with rosemary branches (plucked from various plants around the neighborhood on a late afternoon walk with L) and chardonnay, then oven-braised at high heat with the halibut.

sauteed shrimp

Oh the perils of improv cooking with low blood sugar!

Starting out reinvigorated by reading recipes for shrimp in an Italian cookbook, I picked one that sounded promising (in Italian) and began the prep, only to watch my enthusiasm rapidly drain away as the dish took shape. Switched to the standard rescue – TJ's tomatillo salsa, which cures all. Added some garlic and shallots and lemon to the saute. Fresh Kentucky pole beans and all is salvaged.

blackened peppers

A good strategy from this day forward might be to use a portable interactive alarm timer when putting something in the oven and just "going down to check email" while the green peppers roast. Otherwise, the result could be some totally scorched peppers that make the house smell great but not much else.

Instead, there's a reprise of the braised fish plus some (carefully watched) oven-roasted tomatoes.