The VERY BEST THING about sushi in soCal is crispy rice topped with spicy tuna.  This is a non-debatable definitive fact.  I don’t know who originally invented this divinely-inspired dish, but it can be found at sushi-spots-in-the-know from Santa Monica to San Bernardino (ok, maybe not San Bernardino), Costa Mesa to Culver City.  If you’re in LA check it out at Katsuya or paparazzi-lovin’ Koi, but if you find yourself in Seattle, come over to my house. IT’S THE ONLY PLACE YOU’LL FIND IT IN THE 206 OR THE 425, YO! That last sentence isn’t actually verified all around town, but I’m pretty sure I make it the best since I have completed an apprenticeship as a ninja and that qualifies me to do most anything better than most anyone. 

An evil new friend of mine who shall remain nameless (Whitney, you know who you are) turned me on to these bundles of om nom fairly recently. I’m pretty sure she had no idea how single-minded and driven I get when I fall head-over-heartbeat in love with something, so don’t blame her for this crazed post, I take full responsibility.  Suffice it to say that for the last two weeks my kitchen has been a tossed-up warzone splattered in sashimi, soy, and various sauces whilst I tried to come up with just the right proportions to make this mellifluous mouthful chez Salty Seattle.  Leave it to me to upend one of the healthiest cuisines on the planet and slut it all up with gallons of grease and buckets of butter, by the way.  How awesome am I?

Seriously though, if you want a new obsession make these, but if you’re thinking about bikini season rapidly approaching you may want to steer clear.  They are in my top 10 greatest food discoveries of all time, and for that I am well and truly happy.  Enough of my blathering on, here is the recipe I’ve honed and cultivated- do with it what you will. 

Crispy Rice with Spicy Tuna

serves 6 as an appetizer

Tuna

• 1 lb Ahi tuna minced
• 3 tbsp Tobiko (roe)
• sesame oil to taste
• Sriracha to taste
• 2 scallions or ramps chopped ultrafine
• 1/4 c Kewpie Japanese Mayonnaise (don’t substitute, the rice vinegar in it gives a distinct flavor)

Crispy Rice

• 2 tbsp canola oil
• 4 tbsb butter
• 1 tsp tamari
• 3 cups cooked sushi rice (you can make from scratch or purchase cooked sushi rice at most Asian grocers)

For the tuna:

In a medium bowl, mix all tuna ingredients together. Cover and reserve in refrigerator.  You can make this up to four hours in advance, and two is ideal so that the flavors marry. 

For the rice:

I use a common sushi rice form just like the one pictured here called a spam sushi mold to pack my rice tight and get it to form perfect rectangles.  You could also form it by rolling it tightly in a sushi mat or even just cling wrap. The idea is to pack the rice as tightly as possible, cut it into rectangles about 2″x1.5″ and fry it in the butter, oil and tamari. The tighter the rice is packed the less rice crumbling you’ll experience.  If you have a non-stick sushi knife to cut through your rice, your bundles will stay together even better with minimal sticking.  Another idea would be to pack the rice into ice cube trays if you have nothing else on hand. 

To fry, use a non-stick skillet and heat a bit of butter, touch of oil and tad of tamari until hot. Fry rice pieces a few at a time on both sides to avoid overcrowding. I lid mine so that popping rice kernels don’t jump out all over the kitchen.  Once they are golden on both sides, they are ready for the tuna topping. 

Place a teaspoon-sized dollop of tuna on top of the rice.  Garnish with a few extra tobiko eggs for extra color. Alternatively you can garnish with a thinly sliced pepper, but I find the Sriracha gives these babies plenty of kick.

This is one of the most attractive pastas I have ever made, on the inside and out.  As the dutiful author of a Seattle food blog, I owe it to you to share, but it’s so dang good I was this close to keeping this little gem in my secret bag of tricks.  The striking green color peeking out the layers of rotoli whets even the most finicky appetite.  This dish is a pan-global crowd pleaser, borrowing just a little bit from several different cultures.  It looks incredibly sophisticated on the plate, but the flavors are so deceptively simple even my (ultra-refined) toddler gobbles it down by the handful.  If you’ve never made your own pasta, what better time to start, as these simply formed sheets are much more forgiving than if you were making ravioli, for example, and yet I daresay they are more beautiful. 

Last time I found myself in the unparalleled NYC, a friend and author of the beautiful blog Culinary Musings suggested we meet at Buddakan in the Meatpacking district for a lil drinky-poo and something delish on which to nosh.  They serve edamame ravioli on their dim sum menu and I haven’t been able to get it out of my head ever since.  I finally set out to recreate it, though I will say that the end: a. this is only very loosely-based on the original and b. imho, mine’s better :) If you ever make it to Buddakan, let me know what you think. If you get around to making these rotoli I know exactly what you’ll think, and it won’t have much to do with the analytic part of your brain. Rather, the pleasure centers associated with taste will be doing cartwheels over each other to get more, more, more, and you’ll undoubtedly eat more than you should. 

Rotoli just means rolls in Italian, this is one area I decided to deviate from the original inspiration.  While I can’t get enough of ravioli-making, I wanted to try a different type of pasta that would really showcase the green of the edamame.  I figured instead of hiding it inside a closed pocket, I would just roll up little tubes then cut them into pieces, that way you’d be able to see the green peering through the layers on the side.  It was the right call because so much of food is its visual appeal before it even hits your lips, and this dish is pretty as a picture. 

Truffled Edamame Rotoli in Sauternes Broth

Edamame Puree:

• 1 bag shelled edamame, boiled and drained
• ¾ c whole milk ricotta
• thinly sliced leeks that have been sweated in butter
• salt & pepper to taste
• white truffle oil to taste
• ½ c packed shaved Parmigiano Reggiano

Pasta:

• 1-2 c flour (start with a cup, add more as needed)
• ½ tsp salt
• 2 large eggs (I use duck eggs for their stiffness)

Sauternes Broth:

• 1 1/2 c Sauternes
• ½ c chicken stock
• 2 fresh bay leaves, crushed
• truffle oil to taste

Garnish: a few reserved edamame pods to add color to the plate

1.  In a food processor, blend the cooled edamame (reserve half a cup of pods for garnish), ricotta, leeks, and Parmigiano.  After it is completely smooth with no lumps, add the salt, pepper and truffle oil. Give it a few whirls in the processor and taste to adjust seasonings. 
2. Mix the eggs into the salted flour until they are completely blended. Knead more flour in as needed until the dough becomes smooth and elastic.  Tearing off walnut-sized pieces and working on a well-floured surface, roll out pasta into rectangular shapes approximately 4×8”.  It’s easy if you form a tube with your piece before you start rolling it, that way it will naturally roll into a rectangle.  You’ll want the thinness to be one stage above as thin as you can roll it- basically the level you would roll for lasagna sheets.  Allow the sheets to hang for a few minutes, but don’t leave them for too long as they’ll become brittle and crack when you’re filling them.  You can cover them with a tea towel as they’re resting in order to avoid excessive brittleness. 
3. Bring a medium stockpot of salted water to boil. Meanwhile, working with one sheet at a time, spread an equal amount of filling all over the pasta sheet, completely covering it.  Roll each filled sheet from the shorter end to end like you would a crepe, only tighter.  Place the sheets on a sheet pan and cover with a tea towel to prevent dryness. 
4. Once you have rolled each pasta sheet, begin boiling the involtini one at a time in the prepared water. After two minutes (or when they float to the top) remove them to a sheet pan with a slotted spoon.  You can place them in the oven on its lowest setting to keep warm as you finish the rotoli and make the Sauternes broth. 
5. For the broth, simmer all ingredients except the truffle oil until it is reduced by half.  Remove the bay leaves and add truffle oil to taste. 
6. To assemble, cut each involtino into four or five pieces and arrange on a plate.  Drizzle with Sauternes broth and garnish with a few edamame pods. 

I guess people really like videos.  Looking at the analytics for my blog proved vewy vewy interesting indeed, after last week’s posting involving me, some risotto cakes and a video camera.  I hate to disappoint, so the Salty Seattle kitchen is back this week bringing you danger, excitement and mile-a-minute thrills.  Or just me being silly in the kitchen making grapes rolled in pistachio dust, you be the judge.  This is one of my favorite party appetizers because it’s such a simple make-ahead dish, and I can assure you, these grapeys fly off the platter. 

Because they are completely coated in a pistachio-mint-cream cheese mixture, people can’t tell they’re grapes.  Folks assume they’re little cheese balls or something, which makes it really fun to watch their faces register sweet juiciness when they take a bite.  Muscat grapes are at the height of freshness right now and they are the perfect grape for this, or pretty much any uva-endeavors you wish to undertake.  That being said, you can make this dish year-round with virtually any grape you get your hands on, though consider the seed factor; you may wish to go seedless. I’m pretty excited to make this with some fat Washington merlot grapes come autumn.  The only other variable ingredient is the mint.  If you live in Seattle or thereabouts, chances are you’ve got it growing by the bucketful somewhere in your yard, like it or not.  That is the happy predicament I am in for about three seasons a year, so I’m always trying to come up with different ways to sneak it in dishes.  Mashing it into the cream cheese adds an unexpected little hint of lightness that is necessary when coating a grape with heavier ingredients like cream cheese and pistachios. 

Enough of my preamble- here is the video. Don’t miss the blooper reel at the end- I think an F-bomb may have accidentally slipped its way in there.

By the way, all this video madness is for Paula Deen and Philadelphia Cream Cheese’s eight week long recipe contest. You can check it out here if you’re interested.

For the next few weeks I’m going to participate in Paula Deen and Philadelphia Cream Cheese’s recipe contest.  Every original recipe submission requires a video, so you, (un)fortunate readers, get to share in my embarrassment by watching my cheeztastic videos.  I plan to have quite a bit of fun with this, so if you’re up for coming into my kitchen warts and all, stay tuned.  There may or may not be blooper reels to provide extra amusement, and I promise to look the other way if you laugh at me, though I’ll probably be laughing too, so you’ll really be laughing with me.

The first recipe challenge calls for the making of a side dish and it must incorporate cream cheese.  I’ve been known to make risotto cakes wrapped around mozzarella, so I decided to modify them by wrapping them around cool discs of Philly instead.  I am not shamelessly plugging when I confess that I will not be making these with mozzarella again.  I love the tang and surprise inside my mouth when I bite into one and get to the creamy cheesy pocket in the middle.  You just might love them too, so here you go, watch, laugh, learn and love.  If you liked this, come back next week when I’ll wrestle with an appetizer to end all appetizers.

Risotto Cakes

Serves 4 as a side dish

• 1 tbsp olive oil
• 1 tbsp butter
• 1 c washed Arborio rice
• 2 minced garlic cloves
• 2 tbsp chopped pine nuts
• 4+ cups chicken stock simmering on a side burner
• ¼ c chopped sun-dried tomatoes
• 2 tbsp chopped fresh basil
• ½ c parmigiano reggiano
• 1/3 c heavy whipping cream
• Salt to taste
• ½ pkg Philly cream cheese rolled into individual 1” discs
• 1 tbsp olive oil

1. Melt butter and oil in medium saucepan over medium heat.  Add washed Arborio rice and stir constantly to coat grains.  After a grains are coated, add garlic and pine nuts and continue to stir so that rice grains and additions become lightly toasted.
2. Add chicken stock two ladle-fulls at a time and stir constantly until rice has absorbed all stock. Continue adding stock in this fashion until your rice nears the al dente state.  Add sun-dried tomatoes when you are about five minutes from rice being done so that they can hydrate.  Once the tomatoes are stirred in, add basil, parmigiano and cream. Salt to taste and chill the rice.
3. While the rice is chilling you can form the cream cheese into discs.  Remove the chilled rice from the refrigerator and wrap rice around each cheese disc to form flattened balls.  Melt remaining olive oil in a large skillet and add risotto cakes once it’s hot.  Cover and cook about 1.5 minutes per side. Remove to a platter and serve warm.

I set out to make agnolotti stuffed with braised chuck and spinach but the universe conspired against me.  Well, not really, I just got three hours and nine hand-rolled pasta sheets into the dish and decided rather than take the time to carefully form agnolotti I would cheat and no one would be the wiser.  It’s not really cheating if you slow-braise your stuffing, hand cut your pasta and grow your own spinach, too, but I still felt a touch of guilt for not molding my little squares into perfect agnolotti.  You see agnolotti requires some fancy folding, pinching and crimping, but my lovely quadrati (squares) stay together so nicely with just a slathering of egg wash and a few quick cuts in a way I view them as the perfect filled pasta. 

I had a wine-soaked weekend of sexy soirees and tantalizing tastings, so I felt some classic comfort food was in order. My go-to is always hand-cut pasta because the meditative process is so soul-soothing.  I’m experimenting with different ratios of semolina, tipo 00 flour, and eggs/egg yolks in my dough lately.  This time I decided to try 100% tipo 00 (which is basically standard unbleached white flour), forego the semolina, and do whole eggs instead of a mixture of egg and yolk. I added a touch of salt, but held back adding oil, which I sometimes do for viscosity.

It turned out the oil was far from necessary this time- the dough lacked the stiffness semolina adds to it and it was malleable and soft as putty. It was a dream to roll into rectangular sheets, so acquiescent to the rolling pin, and not at all sticky.  I prefer semolina pasta if I’m going to turn it into tagliolini, fettucine or another non-filled noodle, but all-flour dough is a dream if you’re making precision pasta. 

I had a glut of spinach begging to be eaten, so I steamed it up and mixed it along with some duck eggs into braised, minced chuck.  I added a few sprinkles of parmesan and I had the perfect filling.  I retained the stock in which I braised the chuck; that’s what I used to make the sauce that would ultimately coat the quadrati.  Normally I would have braised in a wine/stock combo, but after such a heavy red weekend I was feeling a tad wined-out, so straight stock won in the end. 

I tend to make my pasta dough, let it rest for maybe half an hour while I’m finalizing the filling, then roll it into sheets as needed to stuff and cut.  This way the sheets won’t dry out, though it does go against the rule of finishing like tasks at the same time.  I roll out two rectangular sheets, maybe 3-4” wide by 30” long and dollop filling every few inches down one of the sheets.  Then I wash it with egg everywhere the filling is not. This way the top sheet sticks beautifully and they meld as if into one sheet. I also think the egg wash helps the two sheets to thin out once they grab one another, which makes for better, less chewy pasta. 

Once I drape the top sheet onto the bottom, I squeeze it shut down its entire length.  All that remains is to cut the final pasta forms (in this case quadrati, or squares) and set them to dry on a baking sheet.  Different pasta-makers have different rules on air-drying before the boiling plunge, but I’ve always found 30-45 minutes to be ideal. I like a touch of crispness, but not so dry the pasta cracks and cooks unevenly. 

I add a bit of stock to the pasta water so the meaty flavor soaks through the noodle- a little trick I happened upon accidentally when I had excess stock one day.  While the pasta is boiling I reheat the sauce and whisk in a few tablespoons of butter to emulsify it.  After three or four minutes of boiling I remove the pasta from the water with a slotted spoon, and toss it in the sauce.  The perfect comfort plate consists of three or four of these lovely quadrati drenched in sauce and topped with a generous shaving of parmesan.  After the three hour process of making this pasta any impurities from a weekend spent having a ball virtually vanish and suddenly a bottle of Barolo isn’t sounding like such a bad thing.  It sure complements the lovingly-prepared meal to a tee, but don’t let me be a bad influence, drink what you will.  Mangia!

Corned beef doesn’t exactly conjure images of glamour and sophistication; nevertheless it’s one of those things I get a craving for it roughly once a year. How convenient that my craving happened a short while before St. Patrick’s Day so I can share my results with you lot (I’m told that’s a right Irish way of saying things- correct me if I’ve misspoken). 

Supermarket corned beef, in my experience, is tough, plagued with a lingering flavor of skeevy salt, and downright bilious in many cases.  Doing it right, which means doing it yourself, really only takes a bit of planning, is more economical and tastes infinitely superior.  I borrowed the corning technique from Michael Ruhlman’s Charcuterie with only minor adjustments based on my own taste preferences.  I’m a bay leaf fanatic, so I doubled up on those since my bay leaf tree is only too happy to oblige me with her radiant foliage.  I started with a lovely first-cut brisket that I picked up for a song from my favorite butcher in Pike Place Market.  The capable butcher men are always eager to help now that they know I write a Seattle food blog and they can log on and check out the crazy things I do to their meat. 

Read more