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. 

The brisket needs to sit in the cure for five days in order to achieve proper “corning,” which is great because it gives you lots of time to think about which sundry delicacies you’ll serve alongside it.  I also pickled some vegetables using a salt-brine rather than vinegar and let those get nice and infused over the five day period.  I came up with two appetizers that at first seemed slightly incongruous to me but in retrospect I realize there was, in fact, a common thread uniting the meal.  Appetizer “A” consisted of bresaola, which is air-cured beef, wrapped around stracchino cheese topped with a leaf of mache lettuce.

 Next up was an inventive take of seared foie gras.  I had gluten-free folks coming to dinner so the toast squares I might have normally served the foie gras with were out.  I decided to be inventive with the base of my dish and use baby artichoke halves as the “bread” to the foie gras’ “butter.”  I halved them and cooked them in pear butter in the Sous Vide Supreme for two hours at 183° and they were perfect in texture.

  They took on a touch of sweetness from the pear which matched the rest of the dish well.  I topped the artichokes and foie gras with a pear-Sauternes sorbet I whipped up while the artichokes were stewing.  I steeped anise, cardamom, clove and nutmeg into the sorbet and those flavors really brought out the delicate taste of the foie gras. 

Have you realized what everything has in common yet? Every course features something that has been cured, aka something that falls under the vast realm known as charcuterie.  It is interesting that charcuterie is today considered a delicacy.  Much like necessity being the mother of invention, charcuterie at its source was really just a means of preserving food so it would last longer before the era of refrigeration.   Nowadays we don’t technically need to cure meats, so it’s moved into the domain of luxury and often the price of good charcuterie reflects that.  It’s a fun world in which to dabble; oftentimes all you need is an inexpensive cut of meat, some salt and a bit of time. 

Back to the corned beef.  After it finished curing in its rock star juice, I rinsed it and bagged it along with some homemade pickling spice liquid and plopped it into the sous vide bath at 176° for 26 hours.  For those of you battling with the sous vide/foodsaver bagging liquid issues, I’ve finally come up with a bit of a workaround.  I know many people freeze the liquid into a solid so they can suck all the air out. I also know Thomas Keller feels the foodsaver is unacceptable and everyone should really be using a $3,000 cryovac that really does the trick of sucking all the air out even when there’s liquid in the bag.

  Short of spending three grand or taking the time that I don’t often plan for to pre-freeze my liquids, I’ve found myself SOL on several occasions now.  It helps to use gravity, ie hold your bag below the foodsaver as you’re sealing and it will be harder for the foodsaver to suck up any liquid.  The other really great trick that has been working wonders for me is a double bagging system.  First I pack the corned beef (or whatever) and liquid into one foodsaver bag without sealing it.  Then I insert this bag sideways into a second, larger foodsaver bag.  I seal the outer bag and it’s able to get a ton more air out since the liquid is all trapped in the inner bag.  It’s not a perfect solution but until I have a spare three grand lying around, it will do. 

The time and temperature seemed to be just right, and I’m glad I went with my gut instead of listening to all the random voices on the internet.  If I had an extra day or two to play around I would have been really tempted to do a 48 hour cure at a lower temp, perhaps closer to 134°, but now that I’ve achieved a result I’m immensely satisfied with I think I’ll stick with it next time too. 

 The only truly great solution to this problem would be a parallel tasting. Don’t you think the good folks over at Sous Vide Supreme should lend me a second sous vide machine so I could throw in two briskets, two sea bassies, two Silkie chickens and two Jerusalem artichokes all at different times/temps to get down to the real nitty gritty of culinary perfection?  There are plenty of scientific studies on the affects of different sous vide temperatures and what happens to the sinews and muscles not to mention gasses released by the meat. 

 I would opt for a different approach, however, one that defies scientific logic in many cases.  After all, aren’t some of the greatest culinary feats in history achieved by happy accident? I’m thrilled to note that my typical “cook-by-feel” approach seems to work in the sous vide bath thus far, I only regret not being able to mess around with multiple times, temps,and preparations simultaneously so I can arrive at a final consensus sooner.  After too many words (why am I so long-winded) I will leave you to your gastronomic devices, any questions on sous vide corned beef? Leave me a comment and I’ll hit you back.

*One final note: I will be on vacation away from the land of technology in the coming weeks. I haven’t forgotten about my amazing readers, I just need a bit of r and r.  When I return I’ll be back with a vengeance, but in the meantime please enjoy this lovely springtime and join me in a virtual clinking of wine glasses. Salute, Linda :)

Swedish Meatballs are a beautiful thing on a late winter night.  A classic, somehow more embraced by middle America than Sweden since the 1950’s, and the miraculously transcend time and trend.  You can take the easy way out and pop down to Ikea, come home a few hundred dollars poorer with a trunk full of candles, hangers and knickknacks, along with a bag of frozen meatballs authentico(ish).  Most of the time, I like the hard way though.  I feel it builds character, the way I constantly root something down to its essence in order to reconstruct it my way.  It’s nice to know what the compositional choices are so you can make your own still life, since you know a roomful of artists are each going to sketch it a different way.  It’s the same with Swedish meatballs.  The first thing you must choose is the meat. 

You will find recipes calling for various types of ground beef: top round, chuck, bottom round, maybe even sirloin.  Others adhere strictly to the swine line of thinking a la pork shoulder or butt.  Still others insist that veal is the traditional ground meat in Swedish meatballs, or perhaps lamb, venison, buffalo or elk.  I have used all of the above, always grinding myself, and always noting the flavor difference.  My personal taste consensus is that a combination thereof is best, and my gut-feeling is that the Swedish dame who started this craze long ago probably just used what she had on hand from her husband’s spoils out in the icebox. 

Next point of contention is what to serve alongside the steamy balls.  I think I’m in the losing minority who insist meatballs should be served over egg noodles.  Most, including the omniscient authority Ikea, serve them alongside a few halved, creamy new potatoes, which I think is taking the easy way out. If you’re going to the trouble of grounding your own meat, making a bread panade, forming the balls, and frying them up, don’t you think they’re worth showcasing on something a bit grander than potatoes? Don’t get me wrong, I spent many years in Idaho and have no prejudice against potatoes, bakers, fingerlings, Russian banana or otherwise.   I just feel that they belie the inherent glamour of a nutmeg-peppered, cream-drenched, glistening Swedish meatball. 

Homemade egg noodles embody kitchen elegance to me, strange as it may sound.  I’ve been rolling out sheet after sheet of pasta, hand-cutting it into wide, pappardelle-sized noodles for as long as I can remember.  My grandparents taught me the art when I was young and we would make Grandpa’s German chicken and noodles almost weekly.  Now I use semolina instead of white flour and duck instead of chicken eggs, but the noodles remain a mainstay of my personal history.  You’re probably wondering where the elegance comes in.  Apparently my grandpa’s mother taught him to make the noodles way back when, and she was one of those women who was never caught without her face made-up, pearls in her ears, and a sweeping gown, even in the kitchen.  I used to mix noodle-making with dress-up as a child, and I still do that in the kitchen to a degree.  There’s something indulgently satisfying about rolling out counter-sized sheets of pasta in heels; try it, you’ll see.  Plus the heels give you leverage on the counter and make rolling just a wee bit easier, I promise.  I like to complete the look with a dress a la Little House on the Prairie, just one of my many eccentricities. 

Finally, we discuss which compote serves Swedish meatballs best.  Living in the Pacific Northwest, I’m unfortunately not privy to loads of lingonberries.  Lingonberry is the traditional jelly to serve with Swedish meatballs, but I do hate to buy things out of a jar as you may have come to know, so I tend to go with a fruit I can get my hands on to boil down myself.  Lingonberry has a hint of tartness, enough that I don’t think obvious fruits like strawberries, blackberries or raspberries would replicate it very well.  Instead I use cranberries when they’re in season; boiled down into a simple sauce they add a touch of sweetness but more importantly pack a puckering punch that rounds out the meatballs quite nicely.

All three men in my life love meat.  The cat loves it for innate canine reasons that I can’t fault.  My husband loves it so much an ex once broke up with him because she thought his diet was excessively carnivorous.  My 18 month-old toddling bundle Bentley Danger gnaws on steak above chocolate, leading me to believe it somehow runs in the family.  It’s slightly appalling to me given the fact that I only started eating meat several years ago and I still view it as more of an accoutrement than a centerpiece, but I guess boys will be boys. 

In an effort to satisfy their primal desires I try to make a red meat-focused dinner at least once a week.  I get bored of filet mignon on the barbie which is what I think Jonas would prefer; from Angus to Kobe he just really enjoys that umami richness.  I’m forever dousing steaks in tamari, garlic, ginger, even hoisin sauce, which makes them tender, flavorful, and often decidedly un steak-like, according to Jonas.  I decided to treat him to a serious dose of unadorned meat, but went with lamb because I think it has so much more natural flavor than good-ole beef. 

I didn’t do much to pull this dinner together, in fact sometimes the simpler the better, I’ve found.  Just a quick smattering of salt and pepper, a vacuum seal in the sous vide, and a two hour cooking period at 134°.  Once I took the chops out of their bath and let them rest for a spell, I torched them on all sides with my overly-miniature crème brulee torch.  This helps to take the anemic pink-grey hue away, but it also caramelizes and seals in the meaty flavor. 

I served the lamb chops with healthy broccoli and cauliflower, but I couldn’t let it be that boring so I whisked together a cheddar cream sauce in which to douse the veggies.  They were happy to be covered by a layer of cheesy goodness, meanwhile my family had our calcium requirement satisfied in a rich and creamy way.  This simple, satisfying meal is the kind that makes me miss my kitchen when I’m away. It’s relatively easy to pull together with the right equipment, yet elegant in its homey ease.

Chiles en nogada is a dish that strikes fear in the hearts of many a chef.  It’s a multi-day affair replete with dozens of steps deceptive in their seeming simplicity.  You might think peeling chilies is a relatively straightforward affair, but if you consider that you first must roast them, then sweat them, then peel them and finally concoct a piloncillo mixture in which to soak them for 24 hours suddenly straightforward is not the word you’re looking for.  There is a reason chiles en nogada is typically served only once a year on the day of Mexican independence- it truly is a labor of love.  Of course there is also the fact that there is really only a very short window of time during which all the myriad ingredients for the dish are in season- a crazy culinary serendipity when you think about it. 

The walnuts that comprise the majority of the nogada sauce, for instance, must absolutely be fresh in shell and recently harvested, according to most experts on the dish.  The reason for this is that you need to be able to peel them as the peeling imparts a bitter taste on the sauce, and you won’t have a chance in hell if you’re using older walnuts.  I have heard many a United States-based Nogada chef lament the difficulty of peeling the walnuts, no matter how fresh, and I’ve recently heard tell that it’s because we have a different, harder species of walnut less prone to peeling.  I unwittingly came across something of a solution to the bitter peel problem with nogada.  Try as I might, even with a mixture of half pecans (softer skin) and half walnuts, to peel the little suckers, I just couldn’t remove the majority of the peel before blending it with the milk and cream to compose the sauce.  I decided to pass it through a fine-mesh strainer to achieve a smoother texture and lo and behold, the vast majority of the peel would not pass through the strainer, leaving me with a creamy sauce pure as the driven snow.  Now all this complicated food talk makes me hungry. Take a gander at the quail egg, bacon, mini-apple appetizer I needed to serve to stave off my guests’ longings for the nogada:

Walnuts are only one of the many perishable ingredients in the dish.  You must track down fresh peaches, plantains, apples, pomegranates and pasilla peppers too.  I used frozen peaches because in February in Seattle there is simply no hope for a decent peach.  Yes, February is an odd choice to make chiles en nogada, but I’ve been meaning to get around to it for months, and I noticed the pomegranates are getting to be on their last legs.  I figured if I had to substitute frozen ingredients for fresh in the pasilla filling that would be one thing, but there really isn’t a way to fudge the fresh pomegranate seeds that spackle the top of the beautifully composed and plated dish.  Next autumn I’ll make chiles en nogada along with everyone else at the right season, but I have to say, for February this was an entirely satisfying substitute. 

There are several ingredients in chiles en nogada that are downright elusive to track down.  Piloncillo is one of them, though I tracked it down at a good Mexican grocer on Beacon Hill in Seattle called ABC.  If you are unfamiliar, piloncillo is cane sugar that has been hardened into a cone about 3” high and maybe 2” at its base.  In order to extract the sugar you must melt it down in boiling water. When I was boiling it I stole occasional licks (to test whether it was sufficiently emulsified, of course!) and decided I’ll be making simple syrup from piloncillo from now on. It is sweet to be sure, but it has a depth of flavor that I find lacking in white or most common brown sugars, yet it isn’t overly flavored like maple sugar can be.  I’m ripe to bust out a new batch of limoncello (I’m thinking Meyer lemon since they look so good right now) and I may just throw three cultures in the mix, an Italian liquor made with American Meyer lemons and Latin piloncillo sugar.  Better take another bite of that yummy quail egg appetizer- almost time for the main course:

The real tough ingredient for me was acitrón.  It is candied then jarred cactus leaves and as you may imagine we don’t produce much cactus around these parts.  I commenced by quest by calling Latin grocers, specialty grocers and the like, to no avail.  I then decided to drive the streets of the International District hitting up every little bodega, which also proved fruitless.  I spent two days questing for an ingredient I should have just ordered online, but it was too late, guests had been invited and chiles were soaking in their piloncillo-marinade.  I use an amalgam of recipes for my nogada, one of which suggested candied pineapple as an acceptable substitute for the acitrón.  I found a funky product at Viet Wah market on Martin Luther King Blvd that is basically cubed pineapple geleé in syrup and I thought it might even be a better approximation.  It worked out well and the filling turned out delicious, but next time I think I’ll order the acitrón online just to see if there is any improvement. 

Chiles en nogada is a very filling dish, and it’s meant to be served lukewarm.  As such, I thought long and hard about what might appropriately flank the glory of the main course without overpowering it.  I decided the plate could use some additional color to keep the pomegranate company so I served sous vide carrots with carrot stem pureé that I piped in dollops at the top of the carrots.  The carrot pureé was intriguing- I went the creamed route as opposed to pureeing the greens in water and oil, and the resulting color and texture was brilliant green with softness like mousse.  I will definitely add that side to the repertoire for its whimsy, flavor and fun presentation.  I will leave you with the base recipe that I like the most for clarity along with my changes noted. It is originally from the website patismexicantable.com and it excellent all on its own for a first-time Nogada chef.  I tend to mix it with several other recipes taking bits and pieces that I like, but I feel with the exception of a couple notes I’ve made inline to the recipe, it is the best baseline to start with and not get hopelessly confused.   I hope you consider this recipe for your next Mexican fiesta- it’s truly a guest-silencing, plate licking affair.

CHILES EN NOGADA
Recipe adapted from Don Luis Bello Morin
Makes 10

INGREDIENTS
For chiles
10 chiles poblanos
6 cups water
5 tablespoons shredded or chopped piloncillo, or brown sugar

To cook the meat
2 pounds pork shoulder, butt, leg or ribs, or a combination of meats such as veal and beef, deboned and cut into chunks
2 garlic cloves
1/4 white onion
1 carrot, peeled, cut into two pieces
2 bay leaves
1/4 teaspoon dried thyme or a couple fresh thyme sprigs
5 black peppercorns
1 teaspoon kosher, coarse or sea salt

For filling
3 tablespoons olive oil
1 garlic clove, finely chopped
1/4 cup white onion, chopped
1 pound ripe tomatoes, pureed, or about 2 cups tomato puree
All the cooked meat, finely chopped
2 cups meat cooking broth
1 teaspoon kosher, coarse or sea salt
3 oz acitron, or candied pineapple, chopped
1 ripe plantain, peeled and diced, about 1 1/4 cup
1 Bartlett pear, diced, about 1 1/4 cup
1 Golden Delicious apple, diced, about 1 1/4 cup
1 large yellow peach, mature but firm, diced, about 1 1/4 cup
pinch of cumin
pinch of ground cloves, or 4 to 5 whole cloves, seeds smashed and stems discarded
1 Ceylon or real cinnamon stick
1/4 cup blond raisins
1/4 cup silvered almonds, lightly toasted
1/4 cup pinenuts, lightly toasted
1/4 cup chopped manzanilla olives

For walnut or pecan sauce
1 1/2 cup freshly peeled walnuts, if not fresh DON’T use packaged, use pecans
2 1/2 cups heavy cream
1/2 cup milk, more or less to taste
1/4 cup confectioners’ sugar, or more to taste
pinch of salt, more or less to taste
pinch of ground white pepper
1 tablespoon Dry Sherry, or more to taste

For garnish
1 cup pomegranate seeds
1/4 chopped parsley, optional

TO PREPARE
To prepare chiles
Rinse and char chiles. To char, you can either place them on a baking sheet or pan under the broiler, directly on the grill, hot comal or directly on an open fire flame. In any case, turn every 2 to 3 minutes until they are charred and blistered but not burnt. Place them, while very hot, in a plastic bag. Close bag tightly and cover with a kitchen towel. Let them sweat for 10 to 20 minutes.

Take them out one by one, and peel off the skin in the sink. As you do so, lightly rinse the chile with water. With a knife, make a slit down one side to take out and discard the seeds and membrane. Treat the flesh carefully so it will not tear and keep the stem on. Place them in a container and cover with the water previously simmered with the piloncillo or sugar until well diluted, anywhere from 2 to 24 hours. If it is more than 2 hours, place them in the refrigerator, covered once they have cooled down. Drain and either use or store in the refrigerator. You can prepare them 4 to 5 days ahead up to this point.

To prepare filling

I place my pork shoulder along with the spices in the sous vide supreme for 12 hours at 165°.  If you do not have a means to cook sous vide, follow the standard instructions here:
Place the meat already cut into 3 to 4″ chunks on the bottom of a cooking pot along with the garlic cloves, 1/4 white onion, carrot, bay leaves, thyme, peppercorns and a teaspoon of salt. Cover with water and place over medium high heat. Simmer for 20 to 25 minutes, until meat is cooked through. Turn off the heat and let the meat and broth cool down. remove the meat with a slotted spoon and chop it finely, reserve. Strain the broth into a container, reserve.

Heat the olive oil in a large deep saute pan over medium high heat. Add the garlic clove and saute for a minute or until it starts becoming fragrant, but don’t let it brown. Add the onion and saute for a couple more minutes, until it becomes translucent and soft and starts gaining some color. Pour in the tomato puree and let it season, stirring often, for about 5 to 7 minutes, until it has deepened its color, thickened its consistency and lost its raw flavor.

Incorporate the chopped meat, 2 cups of cooking broth, a teaspoon of salt, mix it all together and let it cook 3 to 4  minutes. Add the chopped acitron, mix with the meat and let it cook for 4 to 5 minutes. Incorporate the chopped plantain, pear, apple, and peach and gently mix it all together, let it cook for a couple minutes. Sprinkle the cumin and ground cloves, making sure you mix those spices well. Place a cinnamon stick in the middle of the pan, cover  with a lid, lower the heat to medium and let it cook for about 8 to 10 minutes.

Uncover, add the raisins, almonds, pine nuts, green olives, mix well and taste for salt. Add more if need be. Turn off the heat. You can make the filling up to 2 days in advance, cool, cover and refrigerate.

To prepare sauce
Place all ingredients except the Sherry in the blender and puree until smooth. (I pass the sauce through a fine mesh strainer to remove the pesky peels at this point) You can make the sauce a couple days in advance, but bring it to out room temperature before using. Mix the Sherry into the sauce up to 2 hours before serving. Add more to taste, but it shouldn’t have a strong alcohol flavor. If it thickened while in the refrigerator, lighten it up with some milk.

Finally!!!! To assemble Chiles en Nogada
Place the chiles in a serving platter. Stuff each one with about 1/2 cup filling. Close as best you can. Generously spoon walnut or pecan sauce on top to cover chiles entirely and sprinkle with pomegranate seeds and chopped parsley on top.

Ok ok, I know I have a wee obsession with duck eggs.  I am seeking proper care to cure my addiction, but in the meantime I want to share yet another showcase meal featuring the lovely oval gems.  I present to you sous vide duck eggs on a bed of wilted greens flanked by butter egg biscuits and drizzled in Meyer lemon hollandaise.  Sexy factor is high on this one since you’ve got all sorts of beautiful consistencies playing off each other for a smooth mouthful. 

I am slowly but surely becoming more confident in my abilities with emulsion sauces.  Whenever you have a short ingredient list yet something beloved practically the world over, you know proper technique is what elevates the dish to excellence.  It is the same with hollandaise.  Use only the freshest egg yolks (duck in my case), creamiest unsalted butter, and Meyer lemons if you can get them. A Meyer lemon is sweeter and less acidic than a typical lemon.  This plays nicely with the custardy yolk/butter sauce because it adds just a hint of sweetness to take off the eggy edge.  If the hollandaise recipe you like calls for sugar, I would omit or decrease the amount if using Meyer lemons.  Once you have a nice custard-like texture to the egg yolks inside the double boiler, add butter that has been frozen and chopped into ½” cubes, whisking each cube in one at a time.  You can stop adding butter when you have the consistency you like, don’t keep going with the butter or your hollandaise will be runny; especially once you add the lemon juice.  I never thought I’d hear myself say this, but be judicious with the salt.  The sauce will already have a deep, rich flavor, and you don’t want to mask it with excessive salt. 

Some folks like their wilted greens braised in red wine, perhaps with a touch of caramelized shallot or garlic, but this dish has so many competing flavors I wanted the greens to serve as a backdrop.  I merely steamed them for four minutes and packed them on the plates in heaping mounds.  Use more than you think you’ll need- spinach always wilts to nothing.  The real star in this dish is the sous vide egg.  Jeffrey Steingarten believes the perfect egg is one that has been prepared sous vide, and I hate to belabor the point but I agree with him.  I do mine somewhere between a soft and hard boil at 150° for 45 minutes.  When you crack through the skin and reveal the soft egg it will be all you can do to keep yourself from eating it before it hits the plate.  Resist that urge- egg, spinach and hollandaise are an unreal combination that belong on the dinner plate together. 

I flanked the dish with some fresh biscuits almost as an afterthought, but I ended up glad I did.  I threw an egg into the biscuit dough this time just for fun and wow, does it ever make for fluffy bread.  The baking powder I’ve always used makes for a predictable, acceptable leavening, but the egg addition creates a different animal altogether- like a biscuit soufflé.  This dish in its entirety is knock-your-socks-off delicious- something you should probably only serve for immediate family since you don’t want to be embarrassed in front of dinner guests when you inevitably lick the plate.

The earnestly kind folks over at DeLille invited Salty Seattle to come out and experience the oenological delights featured in their winter release yesterday.  We eagerly accepted the invitation, thrilled to be a part of what promised to be a superlative tasting.  The release featured five wines in total, one white and four reds.  We started with a crisp and healthy pour of the Chaleur Estate 2008 Blanc. It is 62% sauvignon blanc and 38% Semillon.  BIG DISCLAIMER: I typically loathe white wines. I don’t know what it is- I love reds, champagne is my very best friend, and a crisp rosé on a spring or summer day does me right nice. I’ve yet to wrap my palate around a bottle of white, but not for lack of trying. That being said, the Chaleur Estate Blanc was a refreshing lightly fruited nutty glass of rich smooth flavor.  I was very impressed with its ability to keep me drinking despite my prejudice. 

Next up- Harrison Hill 2007. This classic Bordeaux-style blend is predominantly cabernet sauvignon and all I have to say is LOCK UP YOUR DAUGHTERS! After a couple meaty pours of this big, dark old-vine wine I coined it “Dirty Harry” and all hell broke loose from there.  People were clamoring to purchase Dirty Harry- lined up 10 deep to take case after case off the DeLille boys’ hands.  Bewitching, silky and in need of a cellar age or a good long steep in the decanter, this wine is the stuff of legend. 

It is probably not fair that the next pour was the Chaleur Estate 2007 Bordeaux blend.  It is virtually identical in grape composition to the Harrison Hill, though it hails from AVA-of-the-moment Red Mountain as opposed to good ole boy Sunnyside where Dirty Harry is from.  By all counts the Chaleur Estate is a well-balanced, great structured red.  It will stand up to the cellar for quite some time, and will go down in the history of DeLille as a fine, fine wine.  I was just so intrigued to note the vast taste difference in a wine blended by the same hand composed of the same grapes, the only difference being the terroir on which the grapes were grown.  The Chaleur Estate is perhaps more approachable and versatile, but Dirty Harry wins my heart for being the big bad boy who slings me on back of his motorcycle and romances me off into the sunset. 

The next tasting station showcased the Doyenne line, both the 2006 Syrah and the 2007 AIX.  The syrah was a very classic example of the grape, rich and meaty, yet vaguely floral at the same time.  The AIX is delicate and jammy, composed of 61% Syrah, 35% Cab Sauv ant 4% Mourvedre.  I am a big fan of this blend because I love how the Cab really shines through on the finish. It’s almost like you get the best part of both grapes doing what each of them do best, starting with the unctious fruit-forward Syrah and finishing up with the balanced smoothness of Cab.  I see this wine as a great stepping-stone wine, perfect for someone who wants to graduate beyond approachable into something mildly but overly complicated. 

After finishing up the tasting, I begged another half glass off the ever-charming part owner of DeLille, Jay Soloff, and proceeded to get schooled in the ways of the world by Greg Lill, son of the late great Charles Lill- granddaddy of DeLille Cellars.  According to Greg, whenever Charles would travel to a country where the food and drink might have a questionable effect on the digestive system, he had quite an exciting remedy.  He and his wife Lori would hunt down a bottle of the strongest local hooch upon arrival in each exotic locale.  They would then proceeed to take a shot every morning before brushing their teeth, and a follow-up shot right before bed.  This way any questionable bacteria would surely hit the high road, and the Lill’s were left to enjoy their vacation with a lightened conscience and a clear gut. Little stories like these really make a person understand what a truly nuanced character Charles Lill surely was. It’s no wonder he founded the greatest winery in Washington on the advice of his son and son’s friends Chris Upchurch (now winemaker) and Jay Soloff. 

Greg also taught me another clever trick that I will take to my grave- that of marking one’s territory (or should we say terroir?).  I noticed his glass had some sort of clever metallic wine charm hugging its stem, and upon closer inspection realized it’s the simplest and best way possible to lay claim to a glass.  He merely removes the foil from the bottle he’s opening, worries it into an even line, and winds it around the stem of the glass.  His foil happened to be black, but he made one for me that was silver by merely inverting the foil.  I see this idea going viral in the wine world- it’s so genius in its simplicity yet the possibilities are endless for creating various little foil shapes.  I may try to fashion a mini Koala bear just like those ones common 20 or so years ago that would tightly hug whatever you placed them around. 

The DeLille tasting left me with a great taste in my mouth and a strong urge for another glass, which they would only have been too happy to satisfy, but alas, I had a dinner to attend and I didn’t want to pull a drunken harlot move at the restaurant so Jonas and I picked up our case of zealously ordered bottles, made a pre-request for a magnum of D2 (coming out this fall) and went on our merry way.

You have probably heard that saying “once you go black you never go back?” Well I recently went on a mission to discover if that was also true in the fowl family.  One of my favorite places in Seattle, Uwajimaya, sells black Silkie chickens.  I’ve been eyeballing their lush, purple- black skin for a few months now but I wanted to make something of them that would truly showcase their ebony splendor.  Silkie chickens are one of the oldest breeds of chicken, and the most well-documented and earliest mentions come from China.  They are prized today for their downy white plumage said to be as soft as silk- hence their name, Silkie.  From a culinary perspective they are most frequently seen in Chinese dishes such as soups and stews, but not very usual in Western culture.  I don’t mean to generalize, but I feel this is because they lack the over-bloated unnatural abundance of flesh most Westerners now expect on the genetically modified animal commonly known as a chicken. 

The texture of Silkie meat is tougher and more sinuous than most of us are used to, so going into the project I wanted to cook them in a style that would complement rather than overshadow this.  I decided a long slow cook at a low temperature would probably soften up the flesh, so I employed the use of the Sous Vide Supreme.  Though they are common in Chinese brothy soups, I don’t have a lot of experience with that, so I decided to incorporate Thai ingredients like coconut milk, galangal, lemongrass and lime leaves.  Without an insanely expensive vacuum sealer you really can’t seal too much liquid into the sous vide bag along with your meat, but my Foodsaver can accommodate a can of coconut milk if I press the seal button before too much liquid seeps up into the heat-sealing element.  If you have a Foodsaver and want to try this, here is a little trick I’ve discovered. When sealing liquids, bring the Foodsaver to the edge of the counter and hang the bag you want to seal off the edge.  Insert the edge to be sealed into the Foodsaver, but make sure the bag is hanging far below it, this way you will have gravity on your side and very little liquid will seep up into the element while allowing more air to be removed. 

Back to the Silkie.  Most Asian grocers sell Silkies with the head and feet attached, so if this is a problem of squeamishness for you a Silkie may not be your best bet.  The beauty of including the head and feet is that they give a significant amount of intense flavor and depth to whatever you’re cooking, especially in a braise or sous vide preparation.  What I am saying is don’t remove them, at least until you serve the dish as their flavor is prized, so work with it, not against it.  I butterflied my Silkie for more even cooking, then tossed it in a large Foodsaver bag.  I added a can of coconut milk, several rounds of lemongrass, an equivalent amount of galangal, three lime leaves, a Thai chili, some cilantro, a quartered fennel bulb, four cipolline and some salt.  Then I sealed the bag using the technique described above and immersed in the sous vide bath at 170° for seven hours.  I pulled the bag from the bath, cut it open and put the coconut milk, flavorings and fennel into a small stockpot.  I added a cup of chicken broth and set it to simmer over medium low heat in order to fully marry in the chicken broth.  Meanwhile, I set a large ovenproof skillet over medium heat inside which I placed a generous tablespoon of duck fat.  Once sizzling I added the chicken, skin side down.  I crisped it for five minutes, and then placed the skillet and chicken in a 400° oven for 10 minutes without moving the chicken at all.  At this point I removed the feet, placed the chicken in serving bowls, and poured the broth and veggies over it. 

The texture of the meat was unlike any fowl I’ve ever tasted, but perhaps the closest would be a Cornish game hen.  There is not a lot of meat on Silkies, really just a few bites of breast (which is more like turkey dark meat) and if you’re really resourceful a nibble or two on the legs and thighs.  The skin crisps up nicely, and reminds me a little of duck confit.  The real treat was the powerful flavor slow-cooking the bird imparted on the brothy sauce.  In order to enjoy a Silkie I had to forget my usual Western mindset and concentrate on the nuanced essence of the marriage of all the ingredients in the broth.  The Silkie broth seemed almost curative and restorative, like it would be the perfect thing to lap up in the throes of a bad cold. 

This first foray into the mighty power of the Silkie chicken will not be my last.  My head is ruminating with ideas on different ways to showcase the pretty bird, so expect more Silkie scenes in the months to come.  I really enjoyed all the Thai flavors, but next time I’m thinking a slow and low French braise might be interesting.  Also the birds are small enough that I could just confit them whole, crisp up their skin, then splay them on a bed of wilted greens.  The green and black would make such great contrast, much like the creamy white of the coconut milk and fennel against the delicate slate skin.

chocolate chili with homemade polenta crisps

Consider yourself warned: my inner foodie snoot may rear her ugly head in this post; I’ll try and keep her at bay but she’s a fierce bitch when she wants to be unleashed so just ignore her puzza sotto il naso banter. 

I don’t typically participate in hyper-American activities such as super bowl parties.  What’s so super about it besides the billion-dollar commercials advertising products you’ll rarely find in my kitchen, anyway? I know, I know, there are countless hundreds of you who will argue with me ‘til you’re blue in the face about the merits of the game diminutively referred to by the rest of the planet as “American football.”  I prefer proper football myself, and have been justly rewarded by the fact that Seattle now proudly boasts a football franchise known as the Seattle Sounders Football Club.  The games are not quite up to the snuff of Juventus games back in the motherland, but give us trailblazing pioneers a few years and we’ll elevate the Americas to global standards. 

piloncillo cane sugar boiling down for chili

That being said, as most of you know this super bowl is historic for good reason. The New Orleans Saints have not been to the super bowl, and this is a success story most of our country wants to get behind, football or no football.  It’s as if the Saints embody the phoenix rising from the ashes of Katrina and for the first time since the disaster the city is rallying with the fervor of its original spirit.  It’s an infectious spirit, since the rest of the country seems to have caught it as well.  I couldn’t just blatantly ignore it and attend super bowl deep discount shopping events all day, so I decided to buck up, rsvp to a super bowl party and make something worthy of the occasion: chocolate chili over polenta crisps.  Not sure what that means? In layman’s terms, frito pie.  If you’re still not sure what that is you’re probably a Northerner or from outside the boundaries of our fair country, so let me break it down.  You put some fritos in a bowl, smother them in chili and top the whole shebang with a generous lot of shredded cheese. 

shredded bottom round

In my case I’ll use homemade fritos- I came across a recipe last week for them and decided it would be a fun thing to try.  Since they’re made from cornmeal and baked in the oven they’re fairly healthy, so I’ve dubbed them polenta crisps.  Never one to follow the tenets of a recipe to the letter, I always welcome the chance to make chili since it’s such a footloose and fancy-free endeavor. A little bit of this and a dash of that seems to work better for the final flavor than a careful hand at measuring cumin just so and Worcestershire by the milli-teaspoon.  In this case I had a bunch of solidified chocolate in the fridge leftover from a cake experiment last week wherein I melted entirely too much, so I decided chocolate chili was the order of the day.  Well, two days really, because you do want your chili to ruminate long enough that the flavors develop, so an overnight soak in the crockpot tends to be your best bet.  Even before that you will want to soak and boil dry kidney beans.  I always use dry beans since they retain their texture so much better than the canned mush equivalents.  It’s imperative to soak kidneys overnight then boil them as they emit a gas that will upset stomachs unless you properly soak it out of them and then boil it off.  At that point they’re ready to be thrown into the chili mix and won’t harm a fly. 

homemade fritos waiting for oven

This frito pie recipe transcends season, by the way, so feel free to serve it year-round to a hungry crowd.  In the summer you can throw in fresh tomatoes instead of canned crushed ones, plus all your herbs will be nice and perky and ready for a chili bath.  My only advice is to go with your gut, use a loose ratio of 4 pounds of bottom round to 4 cups soaked kidneys, 2 large cans of crushed tomatoes, and two cups stock, cola or water. Then close your eyes and add chocolate, chipotle in adobo, cumin, cinnamon, Worcestershire, liquid smoke, clove, garlic, onion, and whatever else your heart desires. I like to sweeten it up with piloncillo which is a Mexican cane sugar that must be boiled down in water to dissolve. It’s not too sweet and adds just the right hint of delicacy to the flavor.  Do whatever you do with love and a steady hand and your chili will be amazing. 

polenta crisp topped with chocolate chili

The homemade polenta crisps take a modicum of precision- here’s the recipe I’m using, enjoy!

INGREDIENTS
1/2 cup organic, non-GMO yellow cornmeal
1/2 teaspoon salt
3/4 cup boiling water
1 teaspoon olive oil
1. Preheat oven to 450F degrees.
2. Combine cornmeal and salt in a mixing bowl. Pour in boiling water and stir, add olive oil, and stir until well blended.
3. Drop mixture by heaping teaspoonfuls onto a well-greased baking sheet and press each one with the bottom of a glass. Bake for 12 to 15 minutes or until golden brown.
Makes approximately 3 dozen chips.

Recipe reprinted from this NPR post.

I instantly shape shifted into Gollum at Pike Place Market the other day.  You would have done the same thing too if you had seen it though. My precioussss, my preciouss, precioussss, precioussss.  My primal nature kicked in and I furtively, possessively glanced about, assessing the threat from all angles.  It’s mine, all mine, mine, mine, I thought in my suddenly Australopithecus brain.  Ok, maybe most of you wouldn’t have gone quite so nuts over it, but the ambrosial delights I knew I would find inside that little parcel really had my blood all in a boil.  Wondering wtf I’m talking about? Why all the suspense, Linda, you’re bordering on psycho here? Just go seek one out and try it for yourself; then tell me I’m wrong to be so instantly awestruck. 

Ok, ok, the object in question is a goose egg.  Not the kind you get on your noggin after a particularly inebriated night involving five 30somethings and a tetherball, either.  This goose egg called out to me from its cushioned perch at The Creamery in the market, “Linda- bye, bye Miss American Pie, drove my Chevy to the levy but the levy was dry.”  Why was the goose egg singing that song, you ask?   Let’s revisit Homer’s Odyssey for a moment, shall we?  You recall the Sirens of Titan luring unsuspecting seamen with their enchanted voices? Well American Pie would be the song they would sing to me.  It’s like dangerous nectar to my ears every time I hear it.  You could talk me into anything with that song.  Anyway, the goose egg beckoned me to her with my inescapable song, and there was nothing I could do but buy her, and her little buddy behind her too. 

I spent the rest of my market time slinking around corners acutely alert to every possible threat to my goosey package, but miraculously no one tried to mug me for an egg.  Once I got her home I began to debate the merits of alternative cooking styles, and if you’ve been reading this blog at all over the last month, you can probably guess which won in the end.  Yes, I opted for sous vide since it produces the most refined texture imaginable in an egg; more like a pudding than an egg white, and more like a custard than a yolk. 

Once I broke through the durable shell with my fork, I was immediately struck by the brilliant gold color radiating from the oblong egg.  The yolk/albumen (that’s fancy speak for white) ratio is much higher in a goose egg than a chicken, and it is apparent from the first crack of the shell.  The color of the yolk is like muted fire, so utterly emanating you can’t look away.  I dappled my egg with a few crystals of black Hawaiian salt and tucked in.  The yolk was fully cooked but creamy, soft, almost like really thick hollandaise.  The white was surprisingly full of flavor, which is rarely the case with a chicken egg.  The egg as a whole was much richer and dare I say fatty than its chicken counterpart, which makes sense if you think about it.  How much fat will render off a chicken when you roast it? Now compare that to a goose and I guess the answer is obvious.  Next time truffle season rolls around I know what type of eggs I’ll be begging off the market vendors, you can bet the farm on that!

I’m three days into the United Way Hunger Challenge and I have $59.83 left to spend.  Good thing too, since tonight is Jonas’ birthday, and I have to at least make it somewhat special, which led me down an entirely different train of thought.  We agreed to do this challenge despite having several events (like a birthday) this week that would be tricky to work around.  I recall feeling a bit miffed at the beginning of the week, thinking “couldn’t it have been a different week?” and oscillating over whether to actually go through with it. 

Well midway through the challenge I look back at my three-day-ago self with disdain.  There are people who have to scrape together for kids birthdays, spouses anniversaries, holidays and the like on the budget I was given for a week only they have to do it 365 days a year.  What kind of little princess bitch am I that I mumble and moan feeling sorry for my family when we only have to do this for five days? And we are doing it voluntarily at that? And I’m writing about it and documenting it for my blog, which is an even further luxury?  The bright side is that in three short days I’ve learned to be a humbler person, and to appreciate my lot in life.  In fact, if everyone like me were to live on slightly more moderate means there would surely be more to go around, but that’s a different matter entirely. 

Because I’ve come to this realization, a few other key points struck a chord with me.  Namely that in a way this challenge is an unfair game that’s a bit gauche in some respects.  It’s kind of like how un-PC it really is to play cowboys and Indians considering our nation’s history with Native Americans.  Is it really fair for us armchair enthusiasts to look at something like a limited food budget as a fun game to play for a week, throwing in personal challenges like “let’s make it organic,” and “I won’t support chains”? The fact is, I have nearly $60 left and I have 2.5 days to go, so I know I can do it.  The truth of the fact is that while I’ve managed to source many organic ingredients, I’ve deliberately chosen them based on their value, and for a week, sure it’s ok to eat carrots, onions and potatoes, but to do that every single day of every single week of every single year would really suck.  What if you notice a pastry in the window of a coffee shop that practically screams your name, but day after day you know you can’t go in and get it because it would mean forgoing dinner for your family that night?  Forget the pastry, on a budget like this you can’t even so much as afford a coffee at most retailers in Seattle! 

Another big factor that plays into how I can fairly easily conform to this challenge is time.  I certainly don’t come from an affluent family, but I have a baby at home and while he is young, we’ve decided that my day job can take the back burner to his rearing.  This affords me the luxury of time.  Yes, my bacon is cheaper than any you can buy in a store because I make it myself, but I spend hours curing pork belly then smoking it to produce said bacon. Many folks don’t have that kind of time.  Or an extra wine fridge in which to cure the pork belly.  Or a smoker in which to smoke it.  Sure, half my vegetables and all of my herbs come from my outdoor garden and indoor plant windows, but that again takes time, a green(ish) thumb, and space in which to garden.  Is it really fair of me to preach that I can easily feed my family on $90 a week and so everyone else should too when I know for a fact that most people on the planet don’t have the impetus or desire to roll out and cut their own pasta thus making it cheaper in raw materials, but more expensive when it comes to labor and knowledge? 

That being said, I’m going to stop with the item calculations.  Suffice it to say I’m sticking to the budget, eliminating luxuries like side salads, and focusing on one-dish wonders, namely this gnocchi.  It was delicious for all intents and purposes, and really couldn’t be easier.  I cooked my potatoes in the sous vide machine so they would retain their light texture, mixed with flour, parmigiano reggianno and salt.  I then rolled the potato mixture into tubes, cut into individual pieces of gnocchi, and boiled in salted water until risen, et voila.  I tossed together a makeshift sauce of cream, peas and bacon and there you go, all under budget, pretty enough for a birthday dish, and extremely satisfying.  The satisfaction was made even richer with the realization that our fortunate family has all the things that should really matter on a birthday in spades; namely the pleasure of togetherness, good food, a humble abode, and a sense of security. 

This entire exercise brings to mind the “teach a man to fish…” adage.  I have enough experience with food to recognize a good deal in shallots, chevre, or cannellini beans when I see one, and I know how to combine that screaming deal with pantry staples in order to make a cheap and tasty dinner.  It would be worthwhile to lead market walkthroughs for food stamp folk (yes, Seattle farmer’s markets take food stamps) pointing out great bulk buys that are money-saving measures in the end.  Discuss how to use both the beets and their greens, for instance.  This concept could be refined further by leading basic cooking classes to teach simple flavor combinations and hopefully inspire a love for quality food.  I appreciate the United Way for putting forth this challenge.  It’s opened my eyes to the idea that I can make a difference in the milieu I understand most: the world of food.