An Updated App: Duck BLTs

A couple of weeks ago, at a birthday/dinner party for our friend Johnny, my friend Kyung served the best kind of appetizer one could give to a group of peckish, gab-happy adults: BLTs.

But these weren’t just any BLTs -- they were dressed up and suited BLTs.

Toasted Pepperidge Farm white was still present, but duck bacon took the place of regular bacon, a squirt of Sriracha in a near-empty Hellman’s jar spiced up the mayo, and lightly dressed arugula (with white truffle oil) stood in for both lettuce and tomatoes.

Cut into small triangles and piled high on a plate in front of a group of hungry adults (and their kids), these BLTs disappeared in a flash.

They’re not revelatory. They’re just BLTs, but the combination of nostalgia, simplicity, and a little spicy difference, can transport them off of the lunch counter and into a dinner party.

Micro Fish Eater: Whiting Escabeche

Perhaps the highlight of my Memorial Day weekend was this whiting escabeche. Served on my roof overlooking an unusually quiet Brooklyn thoroughfare, with a loaf of crusty bread and a bottle of  wine, this escabeche ushered in summer -- not with a big bang, but with a mixture of deep and arresting flavors and textures.

Escabeche is popular in North Africa, Southern Europe, and the Caribbean as a method of preparation, relying on vinegar or wine to preserve and thereby allowing the dish to keep for days at a time. Frequently, as is above, fish is lightly sauteed and then marinated with vinegar, olive oil and lots of optional aromatics.

James Peterson, in his encyclopedic Fish & Shellfish, calls for sardines, but unfortunately none were available at the monger's that morning. Instead, whiting. Gutted and filleted, it's quickly dipped in flour, then 1-2-3 in the frying pan before it's doused with vinegar and onions, thyme, olive oil, garlic, bay leaves, parsley and olives. Into the fridge it goes until appetizer time. Served at room temperature with good bread (and even better wine), you've got yourself the start of a fantastic evening.

While lots of fish can be substituted for the sardines, Peterson's recipe provides a helpful framework from which to begin.


Sardine Escabeche (from James Peterson's Fish & Shellfish)

18-30 fresh sardines, about 3 lbs, cleaned with scales rubbed off
salt and pepper
1/2 cup all purpose flour
1 cup olive oil
1 medium red onion, thinly sliced
2 garlic cloves, peeled
2/3 cup sherry vinegar or white wine vinegar
2 bay leaves
1/2 fresh thyme, or 1/4 t. dried
2 T finely chopped parsley
1/2 cup green French or Italian olives, pitted and coarsely chopped (these are optional, but highly recommended. Other optional additions in Peterson's recipe include pearl onions, fennel, and baby artichokes).

Season the fillets or whole fish with salt and pepper and dredge them in flour. Pat off any excess flour.

Over medium to high heat, brown the fish for about 1 1/2 minutes per side in 2 tablespoons of the olive oil in a non-stick pan. Especially if you're using fillets, keep the fish slightly undercooked so that they won't fall apart when stirred with the marinade. Transfer the cooked fish to a bowl or square casserole large enough to hold them in a single layer.

Wipe out the saute pan and add 2 more tablespoons of olive oil. Cook the red onion and garlic over medium heat until the onion softens but remain crisp, about 8 minutes. Pour in the vinegar, bring to a simmer, and add the bay leaves and thyme. Simmer gently for 5 minutes, then pour in the rest of the olive oil and the parsley. Pour this mixture over the fish. Let cool, cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least 2 hours, but up to 3 days.

Parsnip and Pear Latke

Even though I enjoy a good latke, I prefer my potatoes prepared almost any other way: french fried, mashed, au gratin, baked, or roasted. Latkes are a once-a-year dish for me and I'm fine with that arrangement.

That once-a-year day came when I prepared some potato latkes to celebrate the first night of Hanukkah last Friday. I served them with sour cream and smoked salmon, and while it was a satisfying meal, I used the latkes more as a vehicle for the delicious salmon I bought earlier that day than for anything else.

But I wasn't ready to ditch the latke train forever. Joan Nathan's article in the Times got me jazzed for a new take on some old dishes, and I began perusing more recipes for latkes with root vegetables. When I found this recipe on Epicurious.com for a Parsnip and Pear Latke, I knew I had a winner. It had everything I had been looking for: root vegetables (with twist!) and more than a dash of horseradish (a thumbs-up ingredient, if there ever was one).

The result was savory sweetness with a punch. Served with sour cream-horseradish on top, it's the perfect way to celebrate Hanukkah. Once-a-year? Try twice-a-month.

Parsnip and Pear Latkes (from Bon Appetit, December, 2006)

1 6-7 ounce, underripe Bosc pear, quartered and cored
1 7-8 ounce parsnip, peeled and quartered
1 large egg, beaten (I would add two next time)
1 1/2 T chopped celery leaves (I used parsley)
1 1/2 t drained white horseradish
3/4 t salt
black pepper
1/2 cup panko
Vegetable oil

Shred pear in food processor with grating blade. Transfer to paper towels and dry well. Transfer to a large bowl. Shred parsnip in processor and then add to the bowl with egg, celery leaves, horseradish and salt. Mix well and then add panko and black pepper.

Coat bottom of large skillet with oil. Heat over medium heat. Drop mixture into skillet in 1/4 cupfuls. Flatten with spatula and cook for approximately four minutes on each side until browned.

Serve with sour cream mixed with horseradish.

The Mask of Orzo

I eat a lot of pasta. At the supermarket I stock up on a variety of different shapes, like spaghetti, linguine, penne, fusilli, farfalle, and so on. And then there are those small little shapes off to the side, usually reserved for soup, with names like ditalini and anellini. I rarely peruse those players -- except for orzo.

That little one pound box packed to the gills with rice-like pasta is one I replenish again and again. It's cheap, tasty, versatile and it feels really nice in your mouth. In college, my housemate would make a simple dish of orzo, olive oil, peas, and Parmesan, and I've been a convert since.

And because I'm automatically drawn to recipes that feature orzo, I have a few up my apron sleeves that I'm happy to share with you.

The dish above, believe it or not, has artichoke hearts somewhere in that bowl. The recipe comes from a 2006 Gourmet and it's a quick and simple lunch option: orzo, artichoke hearts, lemon zest, and toasted pine nuts in a light vinaigrette. Eaten warm or at room temperature it's a nice brown bagger for those of us stuck in the zoo that is Bryant Park in the summer.

Another favorite orzo recipe is Mark Bittman's orzo risotto from How to Cook Everything, and it's become my mainstay side to roast chicken, sauteed fish, or braised anything at all. The dish captures the creamy richness of regular risotto, but is far less heavy and about the half the work.

And finally, a lovely summer dish of orzo, feta, dill and tomato -- also from Gourmet. Served with grilled shrimp or scallops, it's a light, enticing, and all-together satisfying meal.


Orzo with Artichokes and Lemon Zest
(from the May 2006 Gourmet)

1 1/2 cups orzo
3 T. pine nuts, lightly toasted and coarsely chopped
1 can artichoke hearts, not marinated, 14 oz.
1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
2 T. red wine vinegar
salt/pepper
1/2 cup flat leaf parsley, finely chopped
1 t. freshly grated lemon zest

Cook orzo until al dente. Drain.

Meanwhile drain artichoke hearts and rinse well. Pull off leaves from bases of the hearts and quarter bases. Rinse leaves and bases well, then drain.

Stir together oil, vinegar, salt, and pepper in a large bowl. Add orzo, pine nuts, artichokes, parsley, and zest and toss to combine.

Orzo "Risotto"
(adapted from Mark Bittman)

2 T. butter or olive oil
1 onion, minced
3 cups stock (chicken, beef, or vegetable), plus 1/2 cup more if needed
1 1/2 cups orzo
Salt/Pepper
1 cup Parmesan
1/2 cup parsley leaves, minced

Place butter in saucepan and turn heat to medium. When foam subsides, add onion and cook until it becomes translucent. Meanwhile, heat stock in separate pan.

Add orzo to the onion and stir. Add salt and pepper and the stock -- all at once. Cover and reduce heat to medium-low.

Cook, stirring every few minutes if necessary, until the liquid is absorbed and the orzo is tender, about 15 minutes. If the orzo is underdone, add more hot water or stock and cook for 5 more minutes. Stir in half the Parmesan and parsley. Garnish with the remaining parsley and serve, passing the remaining cheese at the table.

Orzo with Feta, Tomatoes, and Dill
(from the July 2008 Gourmet)

3 T. extra virgin olive oil
2 cups cherry tomatoes, halved
1/2 cup dill
1 t. grated lemon zest
1 cup orzo
1 1/2 cups crumbled feta

Toss oil, tomatoes, dill, zest, and 1/2 t. each salt and pepper together in a serving bowl. Let stand at least 10 minutes.

Meanwhile cook orzo in boiling, salted water until al dente. Drain and toss with tomato mixture. Add the feta and toss once more.

Babbo's Recipe Archive

Years ago I had the pleasure of dining at Babbo. It was a lovely meal with great food, wonderful friends, and delicious wine.

I haven't been back.

Not that I would refuse an invitation, it's just if I want a Mario Batali-restaurant experience, I find that Lupa serves those needs just fine. Lupa is just as delicious, easier to get into, and less expensive.

But that doesn't mean I never want a bit of Batali's Babbo in my belly. For that I turn to the Babbo website.

Granted, the website is a bit...cluttered, but the site is a treasure-trove of wonderful culinary information, from travel advice, to an ingredient-of-the-month, to other restaurants worth trying, and finally to the restaurant's archive of recipes.

Yes. Archive. A librarian's dream.

Babbo's recipe archive is exhaustive and addictive. A few weeks ago, I made their Black Spaghetti with Rock Shrimp and Spicy Soppressetta. I go weak for squid ink pasta, and the simplicity and uniqueness of the dish really got my attention. While the jalapeno salsa nearly burned my eyes out (3 cups of jalapenos?), the dish was predictably spicy, and wonderfully flavorful.

So rather than rely exclusively on Epicurious or Food TV for your online recipes, head over to Babbo.com, and order off the menu.

What other restaurants do you know of that post their recipes? I'd love to hear about them!

Kheer Royale

Of all the puddings in the world, rice is my favorite. I do Kozy Shack rice pudding, I do Greek diner rice pudding, but my favorite is Indian rice pudding, or kheer. It's a thinner, milkier pudding, and with the delicate taste of cardamom, it makes for a refreshing and subtly sweet dessert.

I've attempted kheer before, and failed miserably. But this weekend, as I was cooking a fairly sizable Indian dinner for my brother's birthday, I decided to attempt it again. I know how much that boy loves his rice pudding. This time I used Vij's recipe. Five ingredients, and an hour and ten minutes later, kheer royale.

Rice Pudding
(from Vij's Elegant and Inspired Indian Cuisine)

Note: I halved the recipe and it served six people. This is the full recipe, as printed.

10 to 12 green cardamom pods
3/4 cup basmati rice
12 cups whole milk
1 cup sugar
raw, unsalted almonds for garnish.

Lightly pound cardamom and peel off the pods. Empty brownish-black seeds into a medium pot. Discard the pods. Add rice and milk and bring to a gentle boil on medium-low heat. Simmer, stirring gently and regular, for about 1 hour and 10 minutes. Never scrape the bottom of the pot while stirring, otherwise you maybe get bits of slightly burned milk in your pudding.

As the rice and milk cook, the consistency will become more and more like pudding. Stir often, or turn down the heat slightly if the rice begins to clump.

Remove the pot from the heat and add sugar. Stir well. If you wish to serve it chilled, wait until the pudding is at room temperature before putting it into the refrigerator.

Sprinkle almonds (or pistachios) over pudding before serving.

Ricotta Tacos

There are cookbooks I own that inspire me in their creative simplicity. The recipes are not terribly fussy or complicated, but the way the ingredients come together is a subtle thing of beauty. Those are the recipes I find myself making over and over again.

Then there are the cookbooks that inspire, sure, but they also intimidate. David Thompson's Thai Food is one that comes to mind. Every recipe seems just out of reach of my cooking abilities or patience. I find myself creating a cost-benefit analysis and ordering takeout. And while I'm ashamed to admit it, Diana Kennedy's The Art of Mexican Cooking provokes a similar reaction. Too many ingredients, too much lard, too time-consuming for me to feel at ease.

However, there is a way to get past that intimidation factor and that is by finding the easiest recipe in the book, mastering it, and then slowly moving forward. And I'm proud to say I've found that recipe, and it's really, really tasty.

Kennedy's recipe for ricotta tacos is hardly rocket science, yet it's unusual flavor pairing creates a simple, light and very summer-friendly recipe. The radish relish served with the tacos is beyond key and soon you'll find yourself making the relish alone and adding it to any old dish that needs a little snazzing up. Last week we added the relish to fish tacos. Perhaps it would go well atop a cold, creamy soup, say Bittman's avocado soup?

It's also the perfect way to use up those orphaned radishes in the crisper drawer or the extra radishes in your CSA box.

Now that I've conquered this--the easiest recipe in the book--I'm ready for...the second easiest. Any suggestions?

Ricotta Tacos
(from Diana Kennedy's The Art of Mexican Cooking)

Radish Relish:
1/3 cup lime juice
Salt
1/3 cup finely chopped radishes
1/4 cup finely chopped white onion
1 chile peron, black seed removed and roughly chopped, or any hot green chile chopped with seeds
1 T. chopped cilantro

Put the lime juice and salt into a bowl, mix in the rest of the ingredients and leave for at least 30 minutes to marinate.

Tacos:
1 cup drained and lightly salted ricotta cheese
6 thin, 5 inch corn tortillas
6 toothpicks
Safflower oil for frying

Spread 1T of ricotta over half of each tortilla. Fold over and secure with a toothpick.

Put oil to depth of 1/4 inch in a large frying pan and heat. When hot, but not smoking, add a few of the tacos and fry, turning once until they are golden and quite crisp. Continue with the rest.

Drain the tacos on paper towels and remove them when cool enough to touch. With toothpick, slowly open them up and add about 2T of the radish relish. Serve at once. (Or just spoon the relish over the tacos...)

Toll House Cookies

In this hot weather I'm willing to chill anything (myself included) and chocolate chip cookie dough is no exception. In today's New York Times dining section David Leite provides some keys to successful chocolate chip cookies, one of which comes from the 1953 edition of the Toll House Cook Book. Unlike the recipe featured on the Toll House chocolate chip packages, the cookbook suggests you chill the dough overnight which, according to Leite, produces a drier dough, more even browning, and vastly improved taste. Leite claimed the cookies that had rest in the fridge for 36 hours had a stronger toffee flavor and a more pronounced brown sugar taste. It's definitely a tip worth broadcasting, but since the Times didn’t provide Ms. Wakefield’s original recipe, I’ll do it for you.

Toll House Chocolate Crunch Cookies
(as written in the Toll House Cook Book)

Cream
1 cup butter. Add
¾ cup brown sugar
¾ cup white sugar class
2 eggs, beaten. Dissolve
1t. soda in
1t. hot water. Add alternately with
2 ¼ cups flour sifted with
1t. salt. Add
1 cup chopped nuts
2 packages semisweet chocolate morsels
1t. vanilla

Drop by half teaspoons onto greased cookie sheet. Bake at 375 degrees for 10 to 12 minutes. Makes 100 cookies.

At Toll House, we chill this dough overnight. When ready for baking, we roll a teaspoon of dough between palms of hands and place balls 2 inches apart on greased baking sheet. Then we press balls with finger tips to form flat rounds. This way cookies do not spread as much in the baking and they keep uniformly round. They should be brown through, and crispy, not white and hard as I have sometimes seen them.

>> Keep in mind that the Library also has some earlier editions of Toll House cookbooks, if anyone is interested in other recipes coming out of Wakefield's kitchen.

Sorrel

A relative of both rhubarb and buckwheat, sorrel is a sour, lemony green which, while delicious, is rather hard to find in a generic supermarket. I was thrilled to see it in my food coop this week and I hope it remains a constant throughout the summer. In my mind, with its flavor and consistency, sorrel is unlike any green around.

I experienced my first taste of sorrel only about two years ago at a friend's house in the Catskills. A bookstore nearby had sorrel growing wild (as it is wont to do) and my friend asked the bookstore's proprietor if he could take some. That night for dinner my friend - and excellent translator - Matvei served up a wildly flavorful soup of potatoes, sorrel, water, and sour cream called Schav (with a name like Matvei it's got to be Schav...). I couldn't get over how a soup so incredibly simple could produce such vivid, unique flavors. I became a sorrel convert quickly.

Last night I tried to reproduce Matvei's Schav as best as I could. And while it was pretty tasty - a bit sour, a bit acidic, with the shredded sorrel completely surrendering itself to the water making for a tasty broth - I still intend to fiddle around with other recipes as much as I can this summer. And from the looks of it, it won't be hard to find suitable candidates. So far I've found a titillating recipe in James Peterson's Splendid Soups which will most likely be the next sorrel recipe I try. Patricia Wells has a simple sorrel filling for omelettes in Bistro Cooking, and a search for sorrel in the New York Times database provides plenty of creative recipes to choose from.

I only wish sorrel was one of the 11 best foods we're apparently not eating, because then I'd be set till next year.

Yogurt, Spinach, and Sorrel Soup (Dovga - can be served either hot or cold)
(adapted from James Peterson's Splendid Soups)

1 quart chicken or vegetable broth
2 cups yogurt
1 1/2 T. flour
1 cup spinach leaves
2 cups sorrel leaves
3 scallions, white part only, chopped
2 T. chopped dill
3 T. chopped mint
pinch of cayenne
salt/pepper
1 T. chopped chives or dill on top

Simmer broth in 4 quart pot. Whisk together yogurt and flour. Shred spinach and sorrel leaves into 1/8" ribbons. Whisk a cup of the broth into the yogurt mixture, then return the mixture to the rest of the broth. Add the rest of the ingredients and simmer for a minute. Garnish with a dollop of yogurt and either dill or chives.

Wilted Sorrel Sauce
(adapted from Patricia Wells' Bistro Cooking)

8 ounces fresh sorrel, ribbed and stemmed
1 T. unsalted butter
1 T. crème fraîche or heavy cream
Salt and pepper

Washing and dry the sorrel. Combine the sorrel and the butter in a large saucepan over low heat. Stir from time to time as sorrel begins to wilt. When most of its liquid has evaporated, stir in the crème fraîche and cook until all leaves are willed and it turns a dark green. Season with salt and pepper and serve.

Sorrel Mashed Potatoes
(first published in an article by Moira Hodgson in the NY Times on May 19, 1996)

1 lb. russet or Yukon gold potatoes
4 ounces sorrel
2 T. butter
1/2 c. heavy cream
Salt and Pepper

Steam or boil the potatoes until tender. Meanwhile wash sorrel and cut the leaves into strips. Heat the butter in a frying pan and add sorrel. Stir for a few minutes over low heat until it has wilted. Add cream and heat through.

Mash the potatoes and stir in the sorrel puree. Season with salt and pepper.

Vincent Price

There's no need to argue that Vincent Price was a fine thespian. I should say that his work in The Tomb of Legia ("I tried to kill a stray cat with a cabbage, and all but made love to the Lady Rowena....") and The Tingler speaks for itself. But many might not realize that Mr. Price was quite the gourmet and also wrote a few cookbooks. The Library has two of his culinary works in our collection, both of which he co-wrote with his wife Mary Price.

A Treasury of Great Recipes is not simply a recipe book, but a celebration of fine dining around the world, something the Price's - no doubt - were very familiar with. Restaurants throughout Europe, Mexico, and the United States are all represented, from Restaurant de la Pyramide in Vienne, France to Chavez Ravine in Los Angeles. The menus of these establishments are printed inside, along with lush color photographs of the dining rooms.

It's so nice (yet rare) to have photographs of restaurant interiors. It's one question I get asked frequently by scholars researching historical restaurants. Yet we sadly have very few restaurant photographs unless images of the interior are part of the menu (La Côte Basque for example), or are included in the Library's extensive postcard collection.




Also in the Price family oeuvre is a five-volume set celebrating our nation's culinary history. Called A National Treasury of Cookery, each volume celebrates a different historical movement of American history and food. From the recipes of Early America (pickled oysters and chicken pudding) to Victorian America (Bonne Femme Soup and Beef Roulade), these quick little volumes feature surprisingly appetizing recipes with beautiful prints and photographs. Any lingering bad memories of cooking in costume at Philipsburg Manor* in grade school have suddenly vanished with the Price's recipe for Roast Duck with Virginia Cornbread Stuffing.

Gâteau Grand Marnier
from Hostellerie de la Poste, Avallon FRANCE
(adapted from A Treasury of Great Recipes)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Cream one cup butter with one cup sugar until pale and fluffy.

Washington's Beer Recipe

Today is George Washington's birthday. To celebrate I present to you his beer recipe which is included in one of his notebooks, located in the Manuscripts Division at the Library.

If making beer is too difficult (amateurs!), why not just toast G.W with a round or two at Fraunces' Tavern - the historic inn where Washington bid farewell to his officers at the end of the Revolution.


To Make Small Beer (from George Washington, 1757)

Take a large Sifter full of Bran
Hops to your Taste -- Boil these
3 hours. Then strain out 30 Gall.
into a Cooler put in 3 Gallons
Molasses while the Beer is
scalding hot or rather drain the
molasses into the Cooler. Strain
the Beer on it while boiling hot
let this stand til it is little more
than Blood warm. Then put in
a quart of Yeast if the weather is
very cold cover it over with a Blanket.
Let it work in the Cooler 24 hours
then put it into the Cask. leave
the Bung open til it is almost done
working -- Bottle it that day Week
it was Brewed.

Cabbage, Two Ways

I've always been a fan of the cabbage family. I even had a cabbage family of my own in the 4th and 5th grade. One little girl Cabbage Patch Kid named Angelina Alberta (whose name I changed — but I won't say to what), and my dear little "preemie" Roy Len. I loved those two kids until mildew grew on their cloth limbs. Then, instead of hugging and kissing members of the cabbage family, I started eating them. And I haven't stopped.

Brussels sprouts are still my favorites. From steamed with lemon and butter, to roasted with olive oil and lots of salt, to the magnificent cream braised recipe from Molly Stevens' All About Braising, which will make any Brussels hater into a Brussels inhaler.

Molly Stevens' book is chock-full of wonderful braised vegetable recipes. One of my other favorites is her Braised Cabbage with Saint-Marcellin Cheese. It's pure decadence, and perfect along side some roast chicken during these cold winter months.

Another cabbage recipe I love is from Marcella Hazan's Marcella Says'. It's a raw cabbage salad which is obviously much lighter than Stevens', yet equally satisfying. While I'm the first to admit I've only tried a handful of recipes from Hazan's book, this recipe stood out for its simplicity and ease. So while Angelina and Roy have been sent along to Cabbage (Patch) Heaven, these two recipes should be titled, ahem: Heavenly Cabbage.

Savoy Cabbage Gratin with Saint-Marcellin Cheese
(from Molly Stevens' All About Braising)

3T. unsalted butter
1 head Savoy cabbage, cored, halved, and cut into 1/2" shreds
1 bunch scallions, greens and whites, cut into 1/2" pieces
Coarse salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 3/4 cups chicken broth
1 ripe Saint-Marcellin cheese

Heat oven to 325 degrees. Butter a large gratin dish. In a large skillet, melt the butter over medium-high heat. Add cabbage and scallions, season with salt and pepper and saute, stirring often, until the cabbage is just beginning to brown in spots, 10 to 12 minutes. Pour in the stock, and bring to a steady simmer, scraping the bottom of the pan, and cook for about 2 minutes.

Scrape the cabbage, scallions, and all the juices into the gratin dish. Cover tightly with foil, slide onto the middle rack of the oven, and braise for 45 minutes. Remove foil and continue to cook until the liquid is mostly evaporated, another 20 minutes.

Cut or tear the cheese into small lumps (about 1/2") and scatter them across the gratin. Increase oven temperature to 375 degrees and cook until the cheese is thoroughly melted, about 10 minutes. Serve hot or warm as a first course, side dish or on its own as a light supper.

Savoy Cabbage Salad with Avocado
(from Marcella Hazan's Marcella Says...)

3 to 4 cups shredded Savoy cabbage (I've also used red cabbage, shredded finely)
2 garlic cloves, peeled and lightly smashed with the flat part of a heavy knife blade
1/2 large ripe avocado or 1 small, peeled and cut into thin strips
Fine sea salt*
1 1/2 T wine vinegar
2 T extra virgin olive oil
Black pepper ground fresh from the mill.

Put all the ingredients in the salad bowl, toss thoroughly, and let stand at room temperature for 30 to 40 minutes (or longer). Remove the garlic cloves and serve at room temperature.

* I do think sea salt makes a difference here. Maldon entered my life recently and will never leave it.

This Bug's For You

Edible bugs, according to last week’s New York Times Magazine, are making a comeback. Writer Sam Nejame explores the new fascination (and long history) of eating insects. When asked why Americans don't include more -- or any -- insects in their diet, Florence Dunkel, the current editor of the Food Insects Newsletter, blames simple social aversion.

I’ll be the first to admit that I have a social aversion to them. I have close to zero interest in trying insects. I am, however, fascinated by the fact that a Food Insects Newsletter exists, which yes, we do have at the New York Public Library. The Newsletter, which began in 1988 and is published out of the Department of Entomology at University of Wisconsin, Madison, has helped foster a community of scholars and scientists interested in consuming bugs. They make some valid arguments. According to their first issue, "...the prevailing opinion among those most knowledgeable about the situation in specific regions is that edible insects not only continue to be nutritionally important but could make an even greater contribution to human nutrition if supplies were increased or better distributed seasonally."

While searching through our collection of edible bug cookbooks I came across Creepy Crawly Cuisine by Julieta Ramos-Elorduy, a biology professor from the National University of Mexico. If you only buy one book dedicated to insect consumption, buy this. Even for someone like myself who has no interest in bugs, I thought some of the recipes sounded...edible. Ramos-Elorduy also includes nutritional information on these critters, all of which -- you'll be happy to know -- are very Atkins-friendly. She also describes what the insects taste like, and some sound downright tempting. For example, wasps resemble pine nuts, stinkbugs resemble apples, and Nopal worms taste similar to fried potatoes.

If you’re not interested in preparing bugs at home, try to score a ticket to the annual Explorer’s Club gala at the Waldorf-Astoria. When I went a few years ago, the insects were served atop rice, like sushi. For more of their recipes, try The Explorer’s Cookbook, so that after you’ve perfected insects, you can move onto snakes, lions and giraffes: A regular Great Adventure safari.

Wasp Salad (from Creepy Crawly Cuisine)
1/2 lb. larvae and/or pupae of bees or wasps
1/2 c. olive oil
1/2 c. peanut oil
1/4 c. honey vinegar (or other vinegar)
1/2 lb. mushrooms, finely chopped
1/4 head lettuce, finely chopped
1 can hearts of palm, chopped
1 mango, peeled and cut in pieces
1 t. salt, or more to taste
1/8 t. pepper, or more to taste

Fry the larvae in the olive oil at medium heat until they are crunchy. Place in a serving dish and add the peanut oil, honey, vinegar, mushrooms, lettuce, hearts of palm, and mango. Mix well, adding salt and pepper to taste. This salad makes an excellent accompaniment to the main course dishes.

Fried Katanga Termites (from The Explorer's Cookbook)

Trap them, put them in a jar, and seal with a tight screw top. When they are dead, simply dump in a frying pan rubbed with olive oil. Fry just a few seconds until crisp. Serve while hot. Goes wonderfully well with ice cold tequila.

Graphic Recipes

Pineapple Upside Down Cake by Sally Moffat

Plums by Barbara Miller

I was filing away some menus in the menu collection archive when I came across a folder filled with these beautiful, graphic broadside recipes. In addition to the recipes shown here, there are also recipes for Apple Pie, Pear Cheese Salad, Baked Cherry Pudding, and Coconut Zonk, among others.

The recipes were apparently part of a book project by the students at the Typography Workshop at the Cooper Union Art School in the Spring of 1966, and were printed by the students at the Ram Press in April of that same year. Only twenty-five copies of the book were made and we seem to have most of the individual, loose recipes. These recipes are either proofs or extra printed sheets from the book, but unfortunately, we don't have the published book in our collection. I also looked in WorldCat (a union catalog of libraries throughout the country), but I wasn't able to find any Library that has the published book. Now I'm not only on the lookout for this book, but for other interesting typographical cookbooks. I'll keep you posted with what I find in the Library's collection, and please share your own findings as well.


Avocado Supreme by Brenda Hardin

Snow

While New York City hasn't had much snow this winter (it's nearly 60 degrees in New York today), when the big nor'easter does come there will be plenty of recipes to choose from. Snow, as an ingredient, makes its appearance in quite a few early American (and many British)cookbooks as evidenced in a search through Feeding America, the wonderful digital archive of American cookbooks from the University of Michigan.

But according to Alan Davidson in his Oxford Companion to Food, when cookbooks list snow as an ingredient they are not necessarily referring to the stuff found outside, but rather to a mixture of stiffened egg whites, cream, and either rosewater, sugar or a variation on the two. Sometimes this edible "snow" was used on twigs to replicate real snow on table centerpieces, and sometimes it was used in recipes.

Apple Snow, a recipe found in quite a number of cookery books of the time, Miss Beecher's Domestic Receipt Book and Fannie Farmer's Boston Cooking School Cookbook to name just two, calls for heated, peeled, and cored apples to be mixed with sugar and then added to stiffened egg whites.

Another recipe, Snow Cream, also calls for egg whites to replicate snow. It was apparently a very popular recipe throughout the 18th and 19th century, as I found recipes for it ranging from Richard Bradley's 1762 book The Country Housewife, to Fanny Gillette's 1887 book The White House Cookbook. Richard Bradley's recipe reads:

A pint of cream, sweetened to your taste, and the whites of four eggs, whip them up in a froth; take it off as it rises, and lay it in glasses, or a dish, with mashed raspberries or strawberries underneath.

Elizabeth Lea's 1869 book Domestic Cookery also features a recipe for Snow Cream but she forgoes the egg whites completely, and adds real snow to the mixture right before serving:

Take the richest cream you can procure, season it with a few drops of essence of lemon, or syrup of lemon peel, and powdered white sugar, and if you choose a spoonful of preserve syrup, and just as you send it to the table, stir in light newly fallen snow till it is nearly as stiff as ice cream.

And some recipes just use the snow, as is. Take, for example, the recipe for Snow Griddle Cakes in the Women Suffrage Cookbook:

Take six tablespoonfuls flour, add a little salt, and six tablespoonfuls of light freshly-fallen snow. Stir the flour and snow well together, adding a pint of sweet milk. Bake the batter in small cakes on a griddle, using only a very little nice butter. They may be eaten with butter and sugar, and are very delicate.

So next time you're out and about in the mess of the city, cursing the mile-high snow banks stained brown and yellow, think of all these delicious recipes you could be making instead.

Soup for the Busy

Oh, I'm bad. I can't believe it's mid December and I've been so negligent. But wouldn't you know I've got good excuses. First off, I'm sick. So unless you count packing peppermint tea into a mesh tea bag, I haven't really cooked a thing. Second, I'm writing term papers. But unless you want to know about the use of starvation in performance art, I'll skip over that one too. Although you've got to trust me, it's fascinating.

So where does that leave me?

Well, with soup. Being the busy sick bee I am, I received a generous supply of frozen chicken soup from my father. I'm a lover of chicken soup - homemade chicken soup. Not the yellow, salt vehicle they call soup at most soup joints. But this time I didn't feel like eating it straight, and I didn't have time for the rice/noodles bit, so I ended up making what might very well be my new favorite How to Cook Everything recipe after the orzo risotto. It's not really a chicken soup, per se, but a great use of the rich stock. And this recipe doesn't really require much in the way of formal analysis. In fact I should've been able to make this up on my own, but you see, I've got these few papers to write....

Spinach and Egg Soup (adapted from Mark Bittman's How to Cook Everything)

1lb spinach, well washed and picked over. (I used pre-washed baby spinach)

2T. butter

Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

Pinch freshly grated nutmeg

5 cups chicken, beef, or vegetable stock, or water, preferably warmed

2 eggs

At least 1/2 cup freshly grated Parmesan

Steam of simmer the spinach in a medium-to-large saucepan until it wilts. Cool it under cold water; squeeze it dry, and chop it finely. (NOTE: I just simmered the baby spinach in butter and started from the next step). Place the butter in a large, deep, saucepan and turn the heat to medium. When it melts, add the spinach, salt, pepper and nutmeg. Add the stock or water and bring to a boil.

Turn the heat to medium so that the soup is bubbling but not furiously. Mix the eggs with about 1/2 cheese, then add them to the soup in a steady stream. You want the eggs to "scramble," not just to thicken the soup, but you don't want them to lump up, so stir constantly. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the eggs are cooked and the soup is thick, 2 to 3 minutes. Serve with bread, passing more Parmesan at the table.

Doughnuts

If I had to choose between a bagel and a danish, I would choose a doughnut. Between a muffin and a croissant? Close, but again a doughnut. I love all doughnuts: Rosquillas, Bomboloni and Beignets. Growing up the two doughnut options were Dunkin' Donuts and Schultz's in Armonk. Schultz's doughnuts were the stuff of legend. Hot, small, and melt-in-your-mouth delicious. Eaten straight out of the doughnut machine, plain or with powdered sugar or cinnamon. They were some of the best things I'd ever eaten. Dunkin' Donuts didn't come close, but were at least somewhat respectable, as this was during their "time to make the donuts" phase when the donuts were made on the premises. Today, with a new Dunkin' Donuts on every corner, you'll find the trays empty and the remaining doughnuts horribly stale and disappointing.

All this brings me to sufganiyot, jelly doughnuts, the traditional Hanukkah food treat. Sufganiyot traditionally have either apricot or raspberry jam in the center, much like the Berliner Pfannkuchen of Germany. And with Hanukkah starting this week ("so early this year!") I'd like to bring these delicious treats to the fore. I've only eaten homemade sufganiyot once: My grandmother made them one year and I think I cried. They were wonderful. Me, I'm afraid my entire apartment will smell like fried food for weeks, so I have yet to attempt them. I'm enclosing a recipe for those who are braver than I, and in turn I ask that you assuage my fears of the deep fryer so that next year I can rewrite history.

In the meantime, it's time to buy the doughnuts.

Sufganiyot (adapted from Joan Nathan's Jewish Holiday Cookbook)

2 scant tablespoons (2 packages) active dry yeast
4 tablespoons sugar, plus sugar for rolling
3/4 cup lukewarm water or milk
2 1/2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour, sifted
2 large egg yolks
Pinch of salt
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 1/2 tablespoons unsalted butter or pareve margarine, at room temperature
Vegetable oil for deep-frying
1/2 cup plum, strawberry or apricot jam

Sprinkle the yeast and 2 tablespoons of the sugar into the water or milk and stir to dissolve. Place the flour on a work surface and make a well in the center. Add the yeast mixture, egg yolks, salt, cinnamon, butter, and the remaining 2 tablespoons sugar. Knead well, about 5 minutes, working the butter or margarine into the dough and kneading until the dough is elastic. You can also use a food processor fitted with a steel blade to do this, processing about 2 minutes.

Put the dough in a greased bowl, cover with plastic wrap, and let it rise overnight in the refrigerator. Sprinkle flour on the work surface. Roll out the dough to an 1/8-inch thickness. Using a 2-inch cookie cutter or floured drinking glass, cut out circles. Let the dough circles rise 15 minutes more. With your hands, gently form the dough circles into balls. Pour 2 inches of oil into a heavy pot and heat until very hot, about 375 degrees. Slip the doughnuts into the oil, 4 or 5 at a time, using a slotted spoon. Turn them when brown, after a few minutes, to crisp on the other side. Drain on paper towels.

Using an injector available at cooking stores, inject a teaspoon of jam into each doughnut. Then roll all of them in granulated sugar and serve immediately.

Culinary Artistry

If you're someone who appreciates improvisation in the kitchen, Andrew Dorenburg and Karen Page's Culinary Artistry is a wonderful resource for the home library. In an attempt to use up old ingredients in my kitchen, I reacquainted myself with this book which I promise to consult more often. For anyone not familiar, Culinary Artistry is not a typical cookbook, although it does include some recipes, but rather a guide to ingredients and the art of composing dishes and meals.

For those of us who like to play The Great Kitchen Clean-Out, I find the section Food Matches Made in Heaven to be extremely helpful. The entry for kohlrabi, for example, lists bechamel, butter, cream, hollandaise, lemon, nutmeg, and parsley as the best accompanying ingredients, while also identifying kohlrabi as a winter vegetable, and one that is best suited to baking, boiling or steaming. A little common sense and intuition is all that's needed to make a wonderful dish.

The book also includes notes from chefs on everything from the way they compose their restaurant menus, to their favorite techniques, their top ten ingredients, and their favorite kitchen tips. Susanna Foo provides a helpful "cross-cultural ingredient substitutions/enhancements list." According to Foo, for example, when a recipe calls for rice vinegar, one could substitute balsamic or cider vinegar instead.

Although my kitchen supplies are dwindling - the tater tots have already been eaten, as have the sardines - I didn't need to consult Culinary Artistry last night. Last night's dinner was the ultimate in delicious pantry eating: spaghetti, bacon, and eggs. The world's tastiest no-brainer.

Spaghetti Carbonara
(adapted from Marcella Hazan's Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking)
1/2 lb. pancetta, cut as a single 1/2" thick slice, OR good slab bacon.
4 garlic cloves
3T. extra virgin olive oil
1/4c. dry white wine
2 large eggs
1/4c. freshly grated romano cheese
1/2c. freshly grated parmigiano-reggiano
black pepper
2t. chopped parsley
1 1/4 lb. pasta (we used 1lb.)

Cut the pancetta or slab bacon into strips not quite 1/4 inch wide. Lightly mash the garlic with a knife handle, enough to split it and loosen the skin, which you will discard. Put the garlic and olive oil into a small saute pan and turn the heat to medium high. Saute until the garlic becomes colored a deep gold, and remove and discard it. Put the strips of pancetta or bacon into the pan, and cook until they begin to be crisp at the edges. Add the wine, let it bubble away for 1 or 2 minutes, then turn off heat. Break the 2 eggs into a serving bowl in which you'll be subsequently tossing the pasta. Beat them lightly with a fork, then add the two grated cheeses, a liberal grinding of pepper, and the chopped parsley. Mix thoroughly. Add the cooked, drained spaghetti to the bowl, and toss rapidly, coasting the strands well. (I also add some reserved pasta water). Briefly reheat the bacon over high heat, turn out the entire contents into the bowl, toss thoroughly again, and serve at once.

Chana Masala

If you're the kind of person who makes Chana Masala then you probably have a favorite recipe already. I understand. I've had a lot of favorite recipes, from Madhur Jaffrey to Lord Krishna to Orangette. Recently, however, I've discovered what may now be my favorite recipe of the them all. It's from Vij's Elegant and Inspired Indian Cuisine which comes from Vij's Restaurant in Vancouver, Canada. It's wonderfully rich, extremely easy, and very flexible. I've made it as is, and I've also added fried eggplant which was amazing.* Other worthwhile dishes in this book include the Lamb in Buttermilk Curry and the Seared Striped Bass in Sour Cream Curry, but I plan to try them all. Unfortunately the Library does not own this cookbook...yet. Rest assured, the order has been placed.

Simple Masala
(adapted from Vij's Elegant and Inspired Indian Cuisine) Serves 2-3.

1/3 cup canola oil
1 1/2 cups finely chopped onions (about 2 medium)
2T. chopped garlic
1 1/2c. chopped tomatoes (I've used canned and fresh. Both work well, but my preference is the fresh).
1/2t. turmeric
2t. ground cumin
1 1/2t. salt
1/2t. cayenne pepper
1 can chickpeas or kidney beans, rinsed and drained.
1 to 2 cups water

Heat oil in a heavy-bottomed pot on medium high heat. Add onions and sauté until golden brown, 5 to 8 minutes. Add garlic and sauté until browned, about 3 more minutes. Stir in tomatoes, then add turmeric, cumin, coriander, salt and cayenne. Turn down the heat to medium and sauté, stirring regularly, until the oil separates from this Masala mixture. This means the spices are cooked through and the "stock" for your curry is made.

So that you don't waste this Masala, add the chickpeas (or kidney beans) and enough water to make a curry with a consistency you prefer. (Adding all the water will make a soupy curry.) Stir well, cover, and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to low and simmer for about 5 minutes. Your basic curry is ready to eat.

*The authors also note that you can add any vegetable to this Masala, except for broccoli. "Broccoli is the one non-Indian vegetable whose flavours, in our view, don't match Indian spices. Not all Indians share this view."

Desert Island Cookbook

Jason Hernandez-Rosenblatt
Restaurant Reviewer, NY Daily News
Brooklyn, NY

Nourishing Traditions by Sally Fallon and Mary G. Enig

WHY DO YOU LIKE IT? More than just a cookbook, Nourishing Traditions is a philosophy of food. The 700 or so recipes contained within are based on fundamental human dietary principles that are universally consistent throughout history all over the world since the beginning of time.

Gleaning from diets ranging from the Masai to the Maori, Laura Ingalls Wilder to the Lakota, Incas to Indonesians, Nourishing Traditions challenges modern and new-fangled (what author Sally Fallon refers to as “politically correct…nutritionally incorrect”) ideas about food in favor of traditional and ancient methods of preparing and preserving.

Fallon is profoundly influenced by the writings of Weston A. Price, a renowned Alfred Kinsey-esque figure in early twentieth century American Dentistry who published a series of ethnographic nutrition studies across a vast and diverse spectrum of indigenous cultures. He found that those who stuck to “traditional” diets, relying on fermented grains, raw milk, organ meats and animal fats maintained almost perfect teeth, bone structures, and physiques while often reaching the century mark free of disease. Those that switched over to “Western” diets based on bleached grains, pasteurized milk, processed foods and an emphasis on low fat became, within a generation, in Price’s words “punier”, “sickly”, “weak” , “malformed”, and devastated by a host of diseases and ailments that their ancestors had never experienced.

For added kicks, each page also features sidebars presenting recipe-related culinary literary excerpts.

Here’s a pair of go-to recipes (using ingredients found on any self-respecting desert island) I’ll share with three of the mermaids that can often be found basking on my desert island.
-- Jason Hernandez-Rosenblatt

MARINATED FISH IN COCONUT CREAM
(recipes adapted from Nourishing Traditions)
1 pound whitefish, cut into ½ inch cubes
1 teaspoon sea salt
½ cup lime juice
1 tablespoon whey
¾ cup coconut milk
1 bunch scallions, chopped
1 tomato, peeled, seeded, and chopped (optional)
1 clove garlic, crushed (optional)
Boston lettuce leaves
1 tablespoon sesame seeds, toasted

Mix salt with lime juice and whey. Toss with fish and marinate at least 4 hours in the refrigerator. Drain the fish. Add coconut milk, scallions and optional tomato and garlic. Serve on Boston lettuce leaves and garnish with sesame seeds.

Note: I usually use 3 or 4 cloves of garlic and skip the lettuce and tomato. Serves 4.

FRIED BANANAS
4 very ripe large plantain bananas
or 8 small red bananas
¼ cup extra virgin olive oil or lard
¼ cup of honey
½ teaspoon of cinnamon
Piima cream or crème fraiche for garnish

Peel bananas and cut lengthwise. Saute in batches in olive oil or lard, transferring with a slotted spoon to an oblong Pyrex dish. Make a mixture of orange juice, honey and cinnamon. Pour over bananas and bake at 300 degrees for about 15 minutes. Serve in bowls with a dollop of cultured cream. Serves 4.