Wednesday, October 6, 2010
http://myemail.constantcontact.com/Tempura-Style-Green-Beans.html?soid=1102987427446&aid=YfvJGKVp4Yo
http://myemail.constantcontact.com/Tempura-Style-Green-Beans.html?soid=1102987427446&aid=YfvJGKVp4Yo
Monday, September 6, 2010
Kid Food
I know, I know. I don’t look old enough to have two grandsons. But I do. They’re now 6 and 3 and they recently came for a visit.
I reported in this space a little over a year ago about the foods they ate and I now have an update.
The three-year-old, in the year since, continues to subsist on a diet of a “magically delicious” cereal, OJ, other fruit juices, hot dogs, chicken nuggets, French fries, yogurt and string cheese.
The six-year-old, however, continues to eat new foods and, for his age, has a fairly sophisticated palate. Make no mistake, when given the choice he’d go to the Golden Arches in a heartbeat because he, just like your children and grandchildren, is subjected to the relentless and clever marketing tactics of the Clown.
Nevertheless, his mother and father reported with delight that on a recent vacation trip, they were at a restaurant that had a kids’ menu, but when the waitress listed the specials of the evening, the elder child heard “filet mignon,” and wanted to know what it was.
My daughter explained to him that it was a kind of steak and he said, “I’ll have that.” Not only did he finish every last bite, but for the next three nights he ordered steak in one form or another.
At that same restaurant (where one of the specials was filet mignon), the younger one also listened to the waitress list the specials. Among them were crab cakes. He’s three and apparently the only word he heard was “cake.” And so he ordered that and got an unhappy surprise, which eventually was replaced by chicken nuggets.
Fast forward to about a month or so later and I was visiting them in their home back East. I never asked the younger grandson what he wanted for dinner because it’s always the same. But when I ask the older one he often surprises me. In addition to his newfound love of good beef, he also likes salmon in almost any form it comes. I made it poached one night and he gobbled it up. A week later, I grilled it and he loved that, too.
On the side, he loves salad and, while he will only eat iceberg lettuce, he’ll insist on tomatoes, cucumbers, bell peppers, ripe olives and onions. Then he’ll ask to see a variety of dressings. Where does this kid come off loving soy-ginger-vinaigrette?
And unlike his younger brother, ask him what his favorite dinner is and he’ll answer without hesitation: sushi.
Yes, I said sushi. And he doesn’t even wait for you to give him a little dipping bowl of soy sauce – he just tears into the tuna, yellowtail, salmon and California roll. Oh, and he’s getting pretty good with chopsticks, too.
This is a kid I love to cook for. There just aren’t many like him, especially at age 6. On the other hand, his younger brother will probably grow up with his grandfather’s boyhood eating habits: Sugar-loaded cereal for breakfast; PB&J every day for lunch. Something fried for dinner.
Despite my own limited childhood food choices, I turned out OK, but it took many, many years – well past college graduation – before I had the nerve to delve into new and exotic foods. I guess it may well be the same for the younger of my two grandsons. My siblings and childhood friends who remember my eating habits were stunned when they saw me evolve into a culinary professional. Maybe my younger grandson will surprise us one day, too.
Even so, I wonder what my older grandson will ask for the next time I get to cook for him.
Stay tuned.
Follow me on Twitter: @KitchenGuyMT
I reported in this space a little over a year ago about the foods they ate and I now have an update.
The three-year-old, in the year since, continues to subsist on a diet of a “magically delicious” cereal, OJ, other fruit juices, hot dogs, chicken nuggets, French fries, yogurt and string cheese.
The six-year-old, however, continues to eat new foods and, for his age, has a fairly sophisticated palate. Make no mistake, when given the choice he’d go to the Golden Arches in a heartbeat because he, just like your children and grandchildren, is subjected to the relentless and clever marketing tactics of the Clown.
Nevertheless, his mother and father reported with delight that on a recent vacation trip, they were at a restaurant that had a kids’ menu, but when the waitress listed the specials of the evening, the elder child heard “filet mignon,” and wanted to know what it was.
My daughter explained to him that it was a kind of steak and he said, “I’ll have that.” Not only did he finish every last bite, but for the next three nights he ordered steak in one form or another.
At that same restaurant (where one of the specials was filet mignon), the younger one also listened to the waitress list the specials. Among them were crab cakes. He’s three and apparently the only word he heard was “cake.” And so he ordered that and got an unhappy surprise, which eventually was replaced by chicken nuggets.
Fast forward to about a month or so later and I was visiting them in their home back East. I never asked the younger grandson what he wanted for dinner because it’s always the same. But when I ask the older one he often surprises me. In addition to his newfound love of good beef, he also likes salmon in almost any form it comes. I made it poached one night and he gobbled it up. A week later, I grilled it and he loved that, too.
On the side, he loves salad and, while he will only eat iceberg lettuce, he’ll insist on tomatoes, cucumbers, bell peppers, ripe olives and onions. Then he’ll ask to see a variety of dressings. Where does this kid come off loving soy-ginger-vinaigrette?
And unlike his younger brother, ask him what his favorite dinner is and he’ll answer without hesitation: sushi.
Yes, I said sushi. And he doesn’t even wait for you to give him a little dipping bowl of soy sauce – he just tears into the tuna, yellowtail, salmon and California roll. Oh, and he’s getting pretty good with chopsticks, too.
This is a kid I love to cook for. There just aren’t many like him, especially at age 6. On the other hand, his younger brother will probably grow up with his grandfather’s boyhood eating habits: Sugar-loaded cereal for breakfast; PB&J every day for lunch. Something fried for dinner.
Despite my own limited childhood food choices, I turned out OK, but it took many, many years – well past college graduation – before I had the nerve to delve into new and exotic foods. I guess it may well be the same for the younger of my two grandsons. My siblings and childhood friends who remember my eating habits were stunned when they saw me evolve into a culinary professional. Maybe my younger grandson will surprise us one day, too.
Even so, I wonder what my older grandson will ask for the next time I get to cook for him.
Stay tuned.
Follow me on Twitter: @KitchenGuyMT
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Eating New York
When it comes to restaurants, New Yorkers are a no-nonsense bunch. If a restaurant’s offerings aren’t good or the service is poor, usually they’ll be out of business in less than a month. The exception, of course, are the ubiquitous chains and fast food joints that open up their factory-style dining emporiums in and around Times Square.
And having lived in New York City twice in my career, I am reminded every time I go that with the exception of the food and that anything you want is available 24/7, I really don’t miss it. I’m happy that I don’t live there any more.
Nevertheless, at least once a year I make the trek to New York to visit family and friends, do a little business and – very high up on my list of things to do – I eat.
Last week was no exception. Eating in New York is a never-ending adventure with new restaurants opening all the time and long-time restaurants closing to re-invent themselves. The fact is there is great food to be had everywhere in New York. Every cuisine in the world is available in New York. And most of it can be delivered to your apartment or your hotel room.
As a rule, I generally don’t go to restaurants owned by celebrity chefs. Usually, they never cook there; they are always crowded; and they are, without fail, wildly overpriced. But I was invited to a dinner party at Colicchio & Sons, one of several restaurants owned by the celebrity chef Tom Colicchio. If you watch the show, “Top Chef” on Bravo, then you also know Tom Colicchio as the head judge.
The restaurant operated for several years as Craftsteak by Chef Colicchio, but the concept aged quickly and so he decided to reinvigorate or reinvent the restaurant and made the decision to shut down the place, re-do some, but not all of, the interior, re-do the menu, and re-do the concept. I never had the opportunity to eat at Craftsteak (there is still a version of it in Las Vegas), but New York-style steakhouses are a dime a dozen these days – they’re expensive; everything is a la carte; and while the meat is usually very good, there’s no longer anything very special about them.
In my opinion, Colicchio & Sons brings back the “special.” One of the objectives in reinventing the place was for Chef Tom to get back in the kitchen. With his very heavy schedule of TV appearances, I don’t think he’s in the kitchen as often as he would like to be and he certainly wasn’t there last Saturday night. But the food was outstanding from start to finish. The service was flawless – not overly solicitous or imposing.
Now as great as this dining experience was, I was on a separate food mission on this trip. To be sure, there are great restaurants in almost every city and town in this country and there is great food to be had in cities other than New York.
But there’s one thing that New York has that cannot be found anywhere else on this planet – and believe me, I’ve been looking.
There is nothing in this world like a full sour kosher dill pickle and I’ve been trying to explain this to my wife for as long as she and I have known each other. In certain neighborhoods in New York there are stores devoted only to pickles. I have not been able to figure out what it is they do to achieve that taste and texture. But ever since I left New York, I’ve visited delis in every city I’ve been to looking for New York-style full sour kosher dill pickles.
Every place my wife and I have gone where a pickle is served, she asks me if “this is it.” It never is.
So this time, I went to a pickle store. I bought two full sour kosher dill pickles. I asked for extra wrapping and I put them in an air-tight insulated food container. I put that in my carry-on bag and stowed it in the luggage compartment above my seat. I guess it doesn’t matter how well you wrap a New York-style full sour kosher dill pickle. The aroma gets out.
And when you see people sniffing the air, you know that they know that someone has “it.”
On my trip to New York I definitely had more than the two food experiences I wrote about in this piece. I thought you might like to know about the two that were the most memorable.
And having lived in New York City twice in my career, I am reminded every time I go that with the exception of the food and that anything you want is available 24/7, I really don’t miss it. I’m happy that I don’t live there any more.
Nevertheless, at least once a year I make the trek to New York to visit family and friends, do a little business and – very high up on my list of things to do – I eat.
Last week was no exception. Eating in New York is a never-ending adventure with new restaurants opening all the time and long-time restaurants closing to re-invent themselves. The fact is there is great food to be had everywhere in New York. Every cuisine in the world is available in New York. And most of it can be delivered to your apartment or your hotel room.
As a rule, I generally don’t go to restaurants owned by celebrity chefs. Usually, they never cook there; they are always crowded; and they are, without fail, wildly overpriced. But I was invited to a dinner party at Colicchio & Sons, one of several restaurants owned by the celebrity chef Tom Colicchio. If you watch the show, “Top Chef” on Bravo, then you also know Tom Colicchio as the head judge.
The restaurant operated for several years as Craftsteak by Chef Colicchio, but the concept aged quickly and so he decided to reinvigorate or reinvent the restaurant and made the decision to shut down the place, re-do some, but not all of, the interior, re-do the menu, and re-do the concept. I never had the opportunity to eat at Craftsteak (there is still a version of it in Las Vegas), but New York-style steakhouses are a dime a dozen these days – they’re expensive; everything is a la carte; and while the meat is usually very good, there’s no longer anything very special about them.
In my opinion, Colicchio & Sons brings back the “special.” One of the objectives in reinventing the place was for Chef Tom to get back in the kitchen. With his very heavy schedule of TV appearances, I don’t think he’s in the kitchen as often as he would like to be and he certainly wasn’t there last Saturday night. But the food was outstanding from start to finish. The service was flawless – not overly solicitous or imposing.
Now as great as this dining experience was, I was on a separate food mission on this trip. To be sure, there are great restaurants in almost every city and town in this country and there is great food to be had in cities other than New York.
But there’s one thing that New York has that cannot be found anywhere else on this planet – and believe me, I’ve been looking.
There is nothing in this world like a full sour kosher dill pickle and I’ve been trying to explain this to my wife for as long as she and I have known each other. In certain neighborhoods in New York there are stores devoted only to pickles. I have not been able to figure out what it is they do to achieve that taste and texture. But ever since I left New York, I’ve visited delis in every city I’ve been to looking for New York-style full sour kosher dill pickles.
Every place my wife and I have gone where a pickle is served, she asks me if “this is it.” It never is.
So this time, I went to a pickle store. I bought two full sour kosher dill pickles. I asked for extra wrapping and I put them in an air-tight insulated food container. I put that in my carry-on bag and stowed it in the luggage compartment above my seat. I guess it doesn’t matter how well you wrap a New York-style full sour kosher dill pickle. The aroma gets out.
And when you see people sniffing the air, you know that they know that someone has “it.”
On my trip to New York I definitely had more than the two food experiences I wrote about in this piece. I thought you might like to know about the two that were the most memorable.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
"Garlic!" (Applause)
As a television chef I usually have a silent audience of four – the cameramen and my producers.
As a demonstration chef – appearing in supermarkets, fairs and other venues – I have the privilege of interacting with live audiences, some small and some more substantial in number.
There’s a big difference between performing “live” on tape and performing live and in person.
When Emeril Lagasse took his show live on the Food Network a number of years ago, every time he would add garlic to something, his studio audience would break into wild applause. I never understood that. Neither did any of my fellow chefs, especially those of us who were used to doing live demonstrations of the culinary arts.
So a couple of weeks ago when I appeared live at a well-attended county fair, I thought I’d perform an experiment. I did three shows a day for two days. As part of my demonstration, I made a roasted red pepper and tomato soup, one of my favorite things to make in summertime. My recipe calls for six large cloves of garlic that get mixed up with lots of other ingredients in the food processor.
I added my roasted red peppers. I added my tomatoes, the basil, the broth, the salt and pepper, a little hot sauce and then held out the garlic cloves in my hand.
“And finally,” I announced, my voice coming to a crescendo: “SIX CLOVES OF GARLIC!!”
Nothing. You could hear a pin drop.
Okay, so garlic doesn’t get applause anywhere outside of Emeril Lagasse’s studio. Lesson learned.
Next challenge: Rachael Ray made a name for herself preparing 30-minute meals. Normally, in my demonstrations I would show how to make chicken three different ways or three different preparations of pork chops. This season, I decided I’d do a full four-course meal.
And to make it interesting, I thought I would issue a phantom challenge to Rachael Ray. So I would appoint someone in the audience as timekeeper.
With only one exception, my timekeepers lost track of the time. I know I at least matched her in five of my outings just by a casual check of my own watch. The sixth one – the one where the timekeeper actually did his job – I beat her by 18 seconds. Whew! That was close!
By the way, here’s the menu: Appetizer: Garlic Shrimp with Seasoned Breadcrumbs and Black Pepper Aioli; First Course: Roasted Red Pepper and Tomato Soup; Entrée: Cinnamon Beef Tagine over Couscous with Dried Fruits accompanied by Brussels Sprout Hash; Dessert: Banana-Pecan Spring Rolls in Caramel Sauce.
Did I mention that I do this with a “handicap” of having only two propane burners and no oven? Pots and pans, spatulas and spoons, whisks and knives are flying everywhere.
Despite the crude set-ups, the gerry-rigged “kitchen” set up on what normally are basketball courts, dance floors, exhibition halls, and the like, I get to do what I love to do – cook for people.
And it really doesn’t matter that my garlic additions get no applause.
Follow me on Twitter: @KitchenGuyMT
As a demonstration chef – appearing in supermarkets, fairs and other venues – I have the privilege of interacting with live audiences, some small and some more substantial in number.
There’s a big difference between performing “live” on tape and performing live and in person.
When Emeril Lagasse took his show live on the Food Network a number of years ago, every time he would add garlic to something, his studio audience would break into wild applause. I never understood that. Neither did any of my fellow chefs, especially those of us who were used to doing live demonstrations of the culinary arts.
So a couple of weeks ago when I appeared live at a well-attended county fair, I thought I’d perform an experiment. I did three shows a day for two days. As part of my demonstration, I made a roasted red pepper and tomato soup, one of my favorite things to make in summertime. My recipe calls for six large cloves of garlic that get mixed up with lots of other ingredients in the food processor.
I added my roasted red peppers. I added my tomatoes, the basil, the broth, the salt and pepper, a little hot sauce and then held out the garlic cloves in my hand.
“And finally,” I announced, my voice coming to a crescendo: “SIX CLOVES OF GARLIC!!”
Nothing. You could hear a pin drop.
Okay, so garlic doesn’t get applause anywhere outside of Emeril Lagasse’s studio. Lesson learned.
Next challenge: Rachael Ray made a name for herself preparing 30-minute meals. Normally, in my demonstrations I would show how to make chicken three different ways or three different preparations of pork chops. This season, I decided I’d do a full four-course meal.
And to make it interesting, I thought I would issue a phantom challenge to Rachael Ray. So I would appoint someone in the audience as timekeeper.
With only one exception, my timekeepers lost track of the time. I know I at least matched her in five of my outings just by a casual check of my own watch. The sixth one – the one where the timekeeper actually did his job – I beat her by 18 seconds. Whew! That was close!
By the way, here’s the menu: Appetizer: Garlic Shrimp with Seasoned Breadcrumbs and Black Pepper Aioli; First Course: Roasted Red Pepper and Tomato Soup; Entrée: Cinnamon Beef Tagine over Couscous with Dried Fruits accompanied by Brussels Sprout Hash; Dessert: Banana-Pecan Spring Rolls in Caramel Sauce.
Did I mention that I do this with a “handicap” of having only two propane burners and no oven? Pots and pans, spatulas and spoons, whisks and knives are flying everywhere.
Despite the crude set-ups, the gerry-rigged “kitchen” set up on what normally are basketball courts, dance floors, exhibition halls, and the like, I get to do what I love to do – cook for people.
And it really doesn’t matter that my garlic additions get no applause.
Follow me on Twitter: @KitchenGuyMT
Monday, August 16, 2010
GARLIC! (Applause)
As a television chef I usually have a silent audience of four – the cameramen and my producers.
As a demonstration chef – appearing in supermarkets, fairs and other venues – I have the privilege of interacting with live audiences, some small and some more substantial in number.
There’s a big difference between performing “live” on tape and performing live and in person.
When Emeril Lagasse took his show live on the Food Network a number of years ago, every time he would add garlic to something, his studio audience would break into wild applause. I never understood that. Neither did any of my fellow chefs, especially those of us who were used to doing live demonstrations of the culinary arts.
So a couple of weeks ago when I appeared live at a well-attended county fair, I thought I’d perform an experiment. I did three shows a day for two days. As part of my demonstration, I made a roasted red pepper and tomato soup, one of my favorite things to make in summertime. My recipe calls for six large cloves of garlic that get mixed up with lots of other ingredients in the food processor.
I added my roasted red peppers. I added my tomatoes, the basil, the broth, the salt and pepper, a little hot sauce and then held out the garlic cloves in my hand.
“And finally,” I announced, my voice coming to a crescendo: “SIX CLOVES OF GARLIC!!”
Nothing. You could hear a pin drop.
Okay, so garlic doesn’t get applause anywhere outside of Emeril Lagasse’s studio. Lesson learned.
Next challenge: Rachael Ray made a name for herself preparing 30-minute meals. Normally, in my demonstrations I would show how to make chicken three different ways or three different preparations of pork chops. This season, I decided I’d do a full four-course meal.
And to make it interesting, I thought I would issue a phantom challenge to Rachael Ray. So I would appoint someone in the audience as timekeeper.
With only one exception, my timekeepers lost track of the time. I know I at least matched her in five of my outings just by a casual check of my own watch. The sixth one – the one where the timekeeper actually did his job – I beat her by 18 seconds. Whew! That was close!
By the way, here’s the menu: Appetizer: Garlic Shrimp with Seasoned Breadcrumbs and Black Pepper Aioli; First Course: Roasted Red Pepper and Tomato Soup; Entrée: Cinnamon Beef Tagine over Couscous with Dried Fruits accompanied by Brussels Sprout Hash; Dessert: Banana-Pecan Spring Rolls in Caramel Sauce.
Did I mention that I do this with a “handicap” of having only two propane burners and no oven? Pots and pans, spatulas and spoons, whisks and knives are flying everywhere.
Despite the crude set-ups, the gerry-rigged “kitchen” set up on what normally are basketball courts, dance floors, exhibition halls, and the like, I get to do what I love to do – cook for people.
And it really doesn’t matter that my garlic additions get no applause.
Follow me on Twitter: @KitchenGuyMT
As a demonstration chef – appearing in supermarkets, fairs and other venues – I have the privilege of interacting with live audiences, some small and some more substantial in number.
There’s a big difference between performing “live” on tape and performing live and in person.
When Emeril Lagasse took his show live on the Food Network a number of years ago, every time he would add garlic to something, his studio audience would break into wild applause. I never understood that. Neither did any of my fellow chefs, especially those of us who were used to doing live demonstrations of the culinary arts.
So a couple of weeks ago when I appeared live at a well-attended county fair, I thought I’d perform an experiment. I did three shows a day for two days. As part of my demonstration, I made a roasted red pepper and tomato soup, one of my favorite things to make in summertime. My recipe calls for six large cloves of garlic that get mixed up with lots of other ingredients in the food processor.
I added my roasted red peppers. I added my tomatoes, the basil, the broth, the salt and pepper, a little hot sauce and then held out the garlic cloves in my hand.
“And finally,” I announced, my voice coming to a crescendo: “SIX CLOVES OF GARLIC!!”
Nothing. You could hear a pin drop.
Okay, so garlic doesn’t get applause anywhere outside of Emeril Lagasse’s studio. Lesson learned.
Next challenge: Rachael Ray made a name for herself preparing 30-minute meals. Normally, in my demonstrations I would show how to make chicken three different ways or three different preparations of pork chops. This season, I decided I’d do a full four-course meal.
And to make it interesting, I thought I would issue a phantom challenge to Rachael Ray. So I would appoint someone in the audience as timekeeper.
With only one exception, my timekeepers lost track of the time. I know I at least matched her in five of my outings just by a casual check of my own watch. The sixth one – the one where the timekeeper actually did his job – I beat her by 18 seconds. Whew! That was close!
By the way, here’s the menu: Appetizer: Garlic Shrimp with Seasoned Breadcrumbs and Black Pepper Aioli; First Course: Roasted Red Pepper and Tomato Soup; Entrée: Cinnamon Beef Tagine over Couscous with Dried Fruits accompanied by Brussels Sprout Hash; Dessert: Banana-Pecan Spring Rolls in Caramel Sauce.
Did I mention that I do this with a “handicap” of having only two propane burners and no oven? Pots and pans, spatulas and spoons, whisks and knives are flying everywhere.
Despite the crude set-ups, the gerry-rigged “kitchen” set up on what normally are basketball courts, dance floors, exhibition halls, and the like, I get to do what I love to do – cook for people.
And it really doesn’t matter that my garlic additions get no applause.
Follow me on Twitter: @KitchenGuyMT
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Potato-Salmon Mini Bites
Sunday, July 4, 2010
Burgers and Cupcakes
How much would you pay for a really good hamburger? By the same token, what’s a tasty cupcake worth to you?
It’s hard to believe that after all these years of promoting food and the finer points of the culinary profession on the Food Network, the Cooking Channel, Bravo, and many other outlets (even Fox), that the hottest trend wouldn’t be some fancy-schmancy preparation or an exotic cuisine.
No, the hottest culinary trend right now happens to be hamburgers and cupcakes. They’re all the rage in the culinary hotspots of the major cities around the U.S.
Several of the best competitors from past seasons of Top Chef have opened one or more gourmet hamburger joints in Atlanta and Washington D.C. And they’re now popping up all over the country, giving McDonald’s, Burger King and Wendy’s a run for their money.
You want fast food burgers, meat origins unknown? Fine. Go to a fast food joint. You want a burger made from top grade beef, all origins known, then go to Top Chef favorite Spike Mendelsohn’s (the guy with the retro ‘50s hat) place in D.C. or Top Chef finalist Richard Blais’ (he’s the guy who did all that molecular gastronomy hocus-pocus) in Atlanta. They’re serving up all kinds of burger concoctions at premium prices, with fries and shakes (also at prices in the stratosphere).
And then there is this accompanying trend for bakers to dedicate shops only to cupcakes, some for $50 a dozen (or more!).
This trend surprises me. I’ve always cooked by the motto that simple is best, but burgers and cupcakes? That, to me, takes simplicity a bit far, especially when talented chefs forego the rigors of menu planning and cooking or baking up to their abilities and then attach filet mignon prices to hamburgers and wedding cake prices to cupcakes.
Don’t get me wrong. I love burgers and I love cupcakes. And I’ll bet most of you reading this do, too.
But I don’t get what the big deal is about taking ground beef and fancy-ing it up with shallots instead of onions; arugula instead of lettuce; papaya instead of tomato. By the same token, how much would you be willing to pay for cupcakes that contain Tahitian vanilla, as opposed to Mexican vanilla; organic raspberries rather than California strawberries?
I’m a fine dining aficionado, but I also like simple everyday foods. Most of my clients have hired me to cook for them because they like my concept of “Ethnic American.” It’s the way I brand my version of comfort food with my own twists thrown in.
Yet if I were to price my meatloaf, for instance, at $45.00 – even if I had used Wagyu or Kobe beef – I think I would be run out of town. Or at least out of business.
I suppose if some people are willing to pay a couple of bucks for a bottle of water that’s alleged to come from a special spring in France, or three or four bucks or more for a cup of fancy coffee, I also suppose there are plenty of folks willing to line up and throw money at a doo-dad burger or hoop-de-doo cupcake.
I don’t know about you, but on this subject, I’m with P.T. Barnum.
Follow me on Twitter @KitchenGuyMT or my blog at http://kitchenguybychefjim.blogspot.com
It’s hard to believe that after all these years of promoting food and the finer points of the culinary profession on the Food Network, the Cooking Channel, Bravo, and many other outlets (even Fox), that the hottest trend wouldn’t be some fancy-schmancy preparation or an exotic cuisine.
No, the hottest culinary trend right now happens to be hamburgers and cupcakes. They’re all the rage in the culinary hotspots of the major cities around the U.S.
Several of the best competitors from past seasons of Top Chef have opened one or more gourmet hamburger joints in Atlanta and Washington D.C. And they’re now popping up all over the country, giving McDonald’s, Burger King and Wendy’s a run for their money.
You want fast food burgers, meat origins unknown? Fine. Go to a fast food joint. You want a burger made from top grade beef, all origins known, then go to Top Chef favorite Spike Mendelsohn’s (the guy with the retro ‘50s hat) place in D.C. or Top Chef finalist Richard Blais’ (he’s the guy who did all that molecular gastronomy hocus-pocus) in Atlanta. They’re serving up all kinds of burger concoctions at premium prices, with fries and shakes (also at prices in the stratosphere).
And then there is this accompanying trend for bakers to dedicate shops only to cupcakes, some for $50 a dozen (or more!).
This trend surprises me. I’ve always cooked by the motto that simple is best, but burgers and cupcakes? That, to me, takes simplicity a bit far, especially when talented chefs forego the rigors of menu planning and cooking or baking up to their abilities and then attach filet mignon prices to hamburgers and wedding cake prices to cupcakes.
Don’t get me wrong. I love burgers and I love cupcakes. And I’ll bet most of you reading this do, too.
But I don’t get what the big deal is about taking ground beef and fancy-ing it up with shallots instead of onions; arugula instead of lettuce; papaya instead of tomato. By the same token, how much would you be willing to pay for cupcakes that contain Tahitian vanilla, as opposed to Mexican vanilla; organic raspberries rather than California strawberries?
I’m a fine dining aficionado, but I also like simple everyday foods. Most of my clients have hired me to cook for them because they like my concept of “Ethnic American.” It’s the way I brand my version of comfort food with my own twists thrown in.
Yet if I were to price my meatloaf, for instance, at $45.00 – even if I had used Wagyu or Kobe beef – I think I would be run out of town. Or at least out of business.
I suppose if some people are willing to pay a couple of bucks for a bottle of water that’s alleged to come from a special spring in France, or three or four bucks or more for a cup of fancy coffee, I also suppose there are plenty of folks willing to line up and throw money at a doo-dad burger or hoop-de-doo cupcake.
I don’t know about you, but on this subject, I’m with P.T. Barnum.
Follow me on Twitter @KitchenGuyMT or my blog at http://kitchenguybychefjim.blogspot.com
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Army Chow
I was truly honored to be asked to cook dinner for 40 Army National Guardsmen (and women) last week.
As I pulled into their armory headquarters with a tow-behind huge honkin’ grill, the master sergeant who arranged for me to cook there greeted me as if I were five-star brass. And every single soldier, ranked or unranked, addressed me as “sir.”
A terrific evening, really, but I’ll save the best for last.
There are federal and state purchasing guidelines about how much can be spent per person for breakfast, lunch and dinner. My creativity was really put to the test because the request was for a steak dinner. This dinner, after all, was a reward to a hard-working company of men and women just back from training maneuvers.
So that “tow-behind huge honkin’ grill” was built from scratch by a friend of a friend and loaned to me for this occasion. If this Army wants steak, they’ll get steak. And we’ll make a show of it with a huge honkin’ grill and a scorching hot fire.
The last time I cooked so many steaks, I was the guest chef at a hotel in northern Montana. It was Valentine’s Day and rib-eyes were on the menu. I took charge of the grill that evening and much to my dismay, 58 of the 64 orders for steak were for medium well or well done. To my way of thinking, that’s a tragic waste of prime beef. And what usually happens in the restaurant world is that when an order for well done comes into the kitchen, the poorest cuts will be used because how will the diner know the difference?
If you like your beef medium well or well done, may I suggest that you order it medium? Taste it and if it’s not to your liking, send it back to be cooked more. At least you’ll get the advertised cut and not something the kitchen would like to dispose of.
Of the 40 young soldiers I cooked for, 25 asked for medium rare, 13 asked for medium, one asked for medium well and one asked for rare.
Now that’s my idea of the kind of steak eaters I like cooking for! How I wish that I could have provided them with larger portions. As I pointed out earlier, there are cost guidelines one must follow, so if steak is on a menu, then it’s going to be kind of thin. When I cut steaks, I like them about an inch to an inch and a quarter thick. At that thickness they can spend enough time on the grill for me to put grill marks on each side and cook each one specifically to order.
That’s the No. 1 question I usually get when beef is on the menu. How does a skilled grill cook or chef know when the meat is ready without using a meat thermometer?
Actually, it’s done by touch. As beef cooks, it shrinks – a natural reaction to heat from collagen and protein and fat. So here’s how a kitchen professional knows when a steak is medium rare, or medium, etc.:
If you hold your hand up with the fingers slightly apart (as if you were signaling “five” to someone), feel the muscle just below the thumb. It’s soft and pliable. That’s what rare beef feels like.
Touch the index finger to the tip of the thumb. Feel the muscle. That’s medium rare. Touch the middle finger to the tip of the thumb. That’s medium. The ring finger to the tip of the thumb is medium well and the pinkie is well done.
This really only works for beef. Other meats, especially poultry, require the use of an instant read thermometer.
Earlier, I promised to tell you what the “best” part of cooking for this group of Army Guardsmen was. After the meal was over, the master sergeant came to me and said he would put together a KP detail and they would wash and scrub all of my pans and utensils.
Thank you, Sarge, for that KP detail. What a treat. Thank you, National Guard. Thank you for calling me sir, for enjoying the food I prepared for you, and for what you do for our country.
As I pulled into their armory headquarters with a tow-behind huge honkin’ grill, the master sergeant who arranged for me to cook there greeted me as if I were five-star brass. And every single soldier, ranked or unranked, addressed me as “sir.”
A terrific evening, really, but I’ll save the best for last.
There are federal and state purchasing guidelines about how much can be spent per person for breakfast, lunch and dinner. My creativity was really put to the test because the request was for a steak dinner. This dinner, after all, was a reward to a hard-working company of men and women just back from training maneuvers.
So that “tow-behind huge honkin’ grill” was built from scratch by a friend of a friend and loaned to me for this occasion. If this Army wants steak, they’ll get steak. And we’ll make a show of it with a huge honkin’ grill and a scorching hot fire.
The last time I cooked so many steaks, I was the guest chef at a hotel in northern Montana. It was Valentine’s Day and rib-eyes were on the menu. I took charge of the grill that evening and much to my dismay, 58 of the 64 orders for steak were for medium well or well done. To my way of thinking, that’s a tragic waste of prime beef. And what usually happens in the restaurant world is that when an order for well done comes into the kitchen, the poorest cuts will be used because how will the diner know the difference?
If you like your beef medium well or well done, may I suggest that you order it medium? Taste it and if it’s not to your liking, send it back to be cooked more. At least you’ll get the advertised cut and not something the kitchen would like to dispose of.
Of the 40 young soldiers I cooked for, 25 asked for medium rare, 13 asked for medium, one asked for medium well and one asked for rare.
Now that’s my idea of the kind of steak eaters I like cooking for! How I wish that I could have provided them with larger portions. As I pointed out earlier, there are cost guidelines one must follow, so if steak is on a menu, then it’s going to be kind of thin. When I cut steaks, I like them about an inch to an inch and a quarter thick. At that thickness they can spend enough time on the grill for me to put grill marks on each side and cook each one specifically to order.
That’s the No. 1 question I usually get when beef is on the menu. How does a skilled grill cook or chef know when the meat is ready without using a meat thermometer?
Actually, it’s done by touch. As beef cooks, it shrinks – a natural reaction to heat from collagen and protein and fat. So here’s how a kitchen professional knows when a steak is medium rare, or medium, etc.:
If you hold your hand up with the fingers slightly apart (as if you were signaling “five” to someone), feel the muscle just below the thumb. It’s soft and pliable. That’s what rare beef feels like.
Touch the index finger to the tip of the thumb. Feel the muscle. That’s medium rare. Touch the middle finger to the tip of the thumb. That’s medium. The ring finger to the tip of the thumb is medium well and the pinkie is well done.
This really only works for beef. Other meats, especially poultry, require the use of an instant read thermometer.
Earlier, I promised to tell you what the “best” part of cooking for this group of Army Guardsmen was. After the meal was over, the master sergeant came to me and said he would put together a KP detail and they would wash and scrub all of my pans and utensils.
Thank you, Sarge, for that KP detail. What a treat. Thank you, National Guard. Thank you for calling me sir, for enjoying the food I prepared for you, and for what you do for our country.
Saturday, June 26, 2010
We've Struck Gold!
I am a huge fan of this group of products from Seven Oaks Ranch, an organic farm that produces some of the best-tasting items I now have in my pantry. I first came across these products through my affiliation with The Open Sky Project, where I offer a variety of products for sale that I think belong in every kitchen.The latest product from Seven Oaks is a Meyer Lemon Vinaigrette. There's no vinegar in it, but the acidity from the Meyer lemons, combined with its natural sweetness is absolutely fantastic.
My wife and I have what we call a salad garden, where we grow a variety of lettuces, tomatoes, cukes, peppers and other herbs. We picked a variety of our backyard bounty and dressed it with this Meyer Lemon Vinaigrette. OMG! You will never taste a better vinaigrette in your life!
So I've made arrangements with the folks at Seven Oaks Ranch and Open Sky to offer a sampler package that contains the original Garlic Gold Olive Oil, Meyer Lemon Vinaigrette, and Garlic Gold nuggets in a variety of flavors (we love the Parmesan-Garlic nuggets). The special pricing is $22.00 with a limited time 20% off, using the code "RedWhiteandGold." But you've got to hurry because the special will end on July 4th.
Visit my Open Sky Shop today and get this special deal. Here's the link: http://openn.me/amn.
Friday, May 28, 2010
Saturday, May 22, 2010
BBQ Turkey Meatloaf
Watching your girlish/boyish figure? Here's some low-cal comfort food: http://bit.ly/a0Olo9
Monday, May 10, 2010
The Salt of the Earth
The phrase, “the salt of the earth,” comes from the New Testament Book of Matthew and it has come to mean someone or some thing that is plain, simple and unaffected.
On the other hand, the culinary world – at least certain chefs – is having a love affair with fancy, expensive salts and I’m not sure I understand it all. Fleur de Sel, Gray Salt, Black Lava Salt and many others are sold at premium prices, but here’s one undeniable fact about all of them, including Morton’s in the round blue container: Their chemical composition is exactly the same.
From your high school chemistry class – NaCl – sodium chloride is sodium chloride, whether you scrape it from rocks along the shores of Brittany, or extract it from a deep mine in Utah.
Please don’t mistake this as a condemnation of salt. It’s not. When I do personal appearances, I make certain that my audience knows that the two most important spices in my kitchen are salt and pepper.
Here’s the problem, however, and it’s twofold: First, because we eat so much processed food in this country, our sodium levels (as a nation) are off the charts. The average person should have no more than 2200 mg of sodium a day. You can get that in a can and a half of certain soups. So while the calories and fat may be lower, the sodium is way too high.
Second: in our nearly two-decade love-affair with celebrity chefs and Food Network, we’re learning about “special” salts that come from different places around the world. I must admit that I have about 10 or more different salts in my pantry and I’ve tasted at least 10 more. But here’s the thing: they all taste the same. And when dissolved in liquid, you can’t tell gray salt from table salt. You know what the main difference is? Price.
The only compositional difference between these “gourmet” salts and regular table salt, to my knowledge, is that table salt is usually iodized. That is, iodine has been added for some alleged health benefit.
I prefer kosher salt – also known as coarse salt. Its crystals are larger, which helps me control the amount I use (and I like the feel, too), without additives, including color (natural or otherwise), it’s just pure salt. Here’s something else you should know about some of those expensive gourmet salts: Pink salt, for instance, gets its color from rust. Gray salt is gray because of silt and dirt on the rocks from which is scraped. Does that whet your appetite?
Despite their similarities, I do recognize that salt in some forms is necessary for appearance. What would pretzels be without those large crystals? How would we cure meats without curing salts? The term “corned,” as in corned beef is a different way of saying the meat has been salted for curing.
So this piece is not a condemnation of salt. I love the flavor and the way it can enhance other flavors. As I wrote earlier, it’s one of the two most important spices in my kitchen. Salt also has its place in the non-savory world of baking. Any bread dough, cake batter, pie crust, lemon curd, and so forth, would be nearly tasteless without the addition of salt – usually half a teaspoon or less.
So as Julia Child wrote about butter and cream, the same watchword applies to salt: Everything in moderation.
The fact is that the use of salt in cooking and at the table by the average American comes nowhere close to the RDA for daily sodium intake, the aforementioned 2200 mg. Our problem is in processed foods.
Remember that the salt of the earth – no matter what form or color it comes in – tastes salty. And that’s all you have to know about salt.
When it comes to sodium intake, however, it’s important to reduce your consumption of processed foods. Especially the stuff you’re feeding your kids. Take a look at the numbers on the packages and you’ll see what I’m talking about. From cereal to soup to snacks, add ‘em up and you’ll be astounded at how easy it is to go well past that 2200 mg mark.
Follow me on Twitter @KitchenGuyMT
(I wish to acknowledge my colleague, Chef Kevin D. Weeks, for the inspiration to write this column.)
On the other hand, the culinary world – at least certain chefs – is having a love affair with fancy, expensive salts and I’m not sure I understand it all. Fleur de Sel, Gray Salt, Black Lava Salt and many others are sold at premium prices, but here’s one undeniable fact about all of them, including Morton’s in the round blue container: Their chemical composition is exactly the same.
From your high school chemistry class – NaCl – sodium chloride is sodium chloride, whether you scrape it from rocks along the shores of Brittany, or extract it from a deep mine in Utah.
Please don’t mistake this as a condemnation of salt. It’s not. When I do personal appearances, I make certain that my audience knows that the two most important spices in my kitchen are salt and pepper.
Here’s the problem, however, and it’s twofold: First, because we eat so much processed food in this country, our sodium levels (as a nation) are off the charts. The average person should have no more than 2200 mg of sodium a day. You can get that in a can and a half of certain soups. So while the calories and fat may be lower, the sodium is way too high.
Second: in our nearly two-decade love-affair with celebrity chefs and Food Network, we’re learning about “special” salts that come from different places around the world. I must admit that I have about 10 or more different salts in my pantry and I’ve tasted at least 10 more. But here’s the thing: they all taste the same. And when dissolved in liquid, you can’t tell gray salt from table salt. You know what the main difference is? Price.
The only compositional difference between these “gourmet” salts and regular table salt, to my knowledge, is that table salt is usually iodized. That is, iodine has been added for some alleged health benefit.
I prefer kosher salt – also known as coarse salt. Its crystals are larger, which helps me control the amount I use (and I like the feel, too), without additives, including color (natural or otherwise), it’s just pure salt. Here’s something else you should know about some of those expensive gourmet salts: Pink salt, for instance, gets its color from rust. Gray salt is gray because of silt and dirt on the rocks from which is scraped. Does that whet your appetite?
Despite their similarities, I do recognize that salt in some forms is necessary for appearance. What would pretzels be without those large crystals? How would we cure meats without curing salts? The term “corned,” as in corned beef is a different way of saying the meat has been salted for curing.
So this piece is not a condemnation of salt. I love the flavor and the way it can enhance other flavors. As I wrote earlier, it’s one of the two most important spices in my kitchen. Salt also has its place in the non-savory world of baking. Any bread dough, cake batter, pie crust, lemon curd, and so forth, would be nearly tasteless without the addition of salt – usually half a teaspoon or less.
So as Julia Child wrote about butter and cream, the same watchword applies to salt: Everything in moderation.
The fact is that the use of salt in cooking and at the table by the average American comes nowhere close to the RDA for daily sodium intake, the aforementioned 2200 mg. Our problem is in processed foods.
Remember that the salt of the earth – no matter what form or color it comes in – tastes salty. And that’s all you have to know about salt.
When it comes to sodium intake, however, it’s important to reduce your consumption of processed foods. Especially the stuff you’re feeding your kids. Take a look at the numbers on the packages and you’ll see what I’m talking about. From cereal to soup to snacks, add ‘em up and you’ll be astounded at how easy it is to go well past that 2200 mg mark.
Follow me on Twitter @KitchenGuyMT
(I wish to acknowledge my colleague, Chef Kevin D. Weeks, for the inspiration to write this column.)
Friday, April 16, 2010
Everything In Its Place
Here I go with the French terminology again. “Everything in its place” is the translation of the culinary law that has no exceptions: mise en place (pronounced meez uhn plahss).
Having everything in place when you’re cooking or baking is probably the No. 1 “secret” to success in the kitchen.
When giving private cooking lessons, I’ve seen my pupils running around their kitchens, searching for items in the recipe while a pot is boiling over or onions are burning in the sauté pan. This is not acceptable. And I don’t mention it or drill in it, until I see it happen. And it never fails to happen.
Yes, I know it’s your home kitchen and in your kitchen, you’re the boss. But why would you deliberately make things harder on yourself?
Everything in its place.
It goes without saying that recipes are, in a sense, formulas. In fact, in baking, formula is the term, rather than recipe because, as we all know: cooking is an art; baking is a science.
Nevertheless, the reason I and others more skilled than I write recipes that call for a tablespoon of this and a teaspoon of that, and a whisk and a knife, and so on and so forth, is that these are the ingredients and the implements that should be on the counter, ready to go. And that goes without exception.
Part of mise en place is the advance preparation of ingredients so that, for instance, a pan is not heating while you’re still chopping something. Chopping, dicing and mincing vegetables can be done while the oven is preheating. The pans you need should be out of the cabinet and ready to be placed on the stove top. The knife or knives should be sharp and ready for duty. (Remember: the most dangerous thing in your kitchen is a dull knife.)
In culinary school and in culinary competitions, unlike your home kitchen, the various cuts of vegetables, fruits and herbs are very precise. So a budding chef will have to learn the difference between a large dice and a fine dice; a mince and a small dice; a tourné and a batonette, and so on.
But you don’t. While the culinary student will be judged on his or her precision in making the aforementioned cuts, you need only approximate these. I promise you that it will taste the same. It may not look the same. But it will taste the same.
Everything in its place. Mise en place.
Cookware and bakeware must be appropriate. As a home cook, no one expects you to know the difference between a sauteur and a sauteuse. This is not a hierarchical French kitchen. It’s your home.
But knowing the difference between a pan with higher sides and a pan with sloped sides can make a huge difference in the way your ingredients cook up. This, too, is part of mis en place. If you want your diced vegetables to sauté rather than sweat or steam, then you must choose the correct pan. After all, when you’re expecting crisp and you get limp, don’t blame the pan. Blame the cook who didn’t do proper mise en place.
If I seem a bit pedantic about all of this, it’s because I had it drilled into me on the very first day I walked into the classroom (and for many days afterward) and my chef spent hour upon hour talking about mise en place.
And so it became a habit that is ingrained in me and I hope, if you’re serious about what you do in your kitchen, that it will become ingrained in you as well.
Follow me on Twitter. I'm KitchenGuyMT.
Having everything in place when you’re cooking or baking is probably the No. 1 “secret” to success in the kitchen.
When giving private cooking lessons, I’ve seen my pupils running around their kitchens, searching for items in the recipe while a pot is boiling over or onions are burning in the sauté pan. This is not acceptable. And I don’t mention it or drill in it, until I see it happen. And it never fails to happen.
Yes, I know it’s your home kitchen and in your kitchen, you’re the boss. But why would you deliberately make things harder on yourself?
Everything in its place.
It goes without saying that recipes are, in a sense, formulas. In fact, in baking, formula is the term, rather than recipe because, as we all know: cooking is an art; baking is a science.
Nevertheless, the reason I and others more skilled than I write recipes that call for a tablespoon of this and a teaspoon of that, and a whisk and a knife, and so on and so forth, is that these are the ingredients and the implements that should be on the counter, ready to go. And that goes without exception.
Part of mise en place is the advance preparation of ingredients so that, for instance, a pan is not heating while you’re still chopping something. Chopping, dicing and mincing vegetables can be done while the oven is preheating. The pans you need should be out of the cabinet and ready to be placed on the stove top. The knife or knives should be sharp and ready for duty. (Remember: the most dangerous thing in your kitchen is a dull knife.)
In culinary school and in culinary competitions, unlike your home kitchen, the various cuts of vegetables, fruits and herbs are very precise. So a budding chef will have to learn the difference between a large dice and a fine dice; a mince and a small dice; a tourné and a batonette, and so on.
But you don’t. While the culinary student will be judged on his or her precision in making the aforementioned cuts, you need only approximate these. I promise you that it will taste the same. It may not look the same. But it will taste the same.
Everything in its place. Mise en place.
Cookware and bakeware must be appropriate. As a home cook, no one expects you to know the difference between a sauteur and a sauteuse. This is not a hierarchical French kitchen. It’s your home.
But knowing the difference between a pan with higher sides and a pan with sloped sides can make a huge difference in the way your ingredients cook up. This, too, is part of mis en place. If you want your diced vegetables to sauté rather than sweat or steam, then you must choose the correct pan. After all, when you’re expecting crisp and you get limp, don’t blame the pan. Blame the cook who didn’t do proper mise en place.
If I seem a bit pedantic about all of this, it’s because I had it drilled into me on the very first day I walked into the classroom (and for many days afterward) and my chef spent hour upon hour talking about mise en place.
And so it became a habit that is ingrained in me and I hope, if you’re serious about what you do in your kitchen, that it will become ingrained in you as well.
Follow me on Twitter. I'm KitchenGuyMT.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Sausage and Cheese Strata
Gotcha covered for Easter Sunday brunch with this delicious sausage and cheese strata. Easy to make -- prep in advance the night before -- and it's going to please every palate! Promise!
Monday, March 29, 2010
A La Recherche...
If you know literature, you know those are the first words of the title of the Marcel Proust masterpiece, “Remembrance of Times Past.” In it, Proust constructs the longest sentences known to mankind, but lets us in on youthful memories of the baked treat, madeleines.
Proust wrote: “I raised to my lips a spoonful of cake (and) a shudder ran through my whole body and I stopped, intent upon the extraordinary changes that were taking place.”
That’s quite something to write about a little sponge cake that’s eaten like a cookie, dipped in coffee or tea.
I have no such childhood memories of food that are so pleasant. What I do remember is the incident that forever marked me and my relationship to green beans, including the elegant haricot vert.
When I was growing up, green beans and most other vegetables served at dinner time came from cans, dumped into a saucepot and warmed on the stove, sometimes until they turned gray.
Pediatricians in the 1950’s were demigods, as Dr. Benjamin Spock’s tome on raising children was selling tens of thousands of copies. My mother was no different than any other of her contemporaries. She thought that the words of our pediatrician were the equivalent of the engraved stone tablets of Sinai.
Frustrated that I wouldn’t eat my green beans she turned to “Dr. Joe” who gave her this sage advice: “If he doesn’t eat them at dinner, serve them to him cold for breakfast.” And so from that point on I was forever marked.
I promise you, I’ve tried them all sorts of ways – steamed, broiled, roasted, tempura-battered. Green beans and I just don’t get along and I’m afraid we never will.
Funny thing is that like most other kids, I didn’t care much for most green vegetables, yet today I am a huge fan of greenies like Brussels sprouts, broccoli, asparagus, spinach and the like.
Now my mother will read this piece and ask my why I’m picking on her (again). Nothing will ever stand in her way of inducing guilt, even when I tell her that I understand that no one gave her a handbook on raising kids.
So let us think about the eating habits and food preferences we are instilling in our kids. I promise this is not a lecture about obesity or diabetes, though I share the concern of the medical and nutritionist communities about the health of America’s children. The British populist chef, Jamie Oliver, undertook a project in England’s schools to change children’s eating habits and now he’s bringing it to America. I hope he succeeds.
More vegetables, fewer fried foods, lower amounts of carbohydrate-laden foods, moderated fast food, and so on.
In the meantime, let me share with you a recipe for tempura-style green beans that I adapted from the Red Cat, a popular eatery in New York:
Make the dipping sauce first by combing 1-1/4 cups of Dijon mustard with healthy pinch of dry mustard, a tablespoon of Tabasco, a quarter cup of soy sauce and three-quarters of a cup of honey. Put all ingredients in a saucepan and whisk over low heat. Transfer to a bowl to cool.
Make the tempura batter by whisking four egg whites to soft peaks. Then whisk in, gradually, three cups of flour and two and three-quarter cups of club soda.
Heat some canola oil (deep enough for frying) to 350. Dip fresh green beans that you’ve trimmed into the batter and carefully lower them into the hot oil in small batches. Fry until golden, about three minutes. Remove to paper towels to drain and salt immediately.
Serve with the dipping sauce.
Everybody I’ve made this for tells me it’s delicious. But I’m sorry, I just can’t.
Proust wrote: “I raised to my lips a spoonful of cake (and) a shudder ran through my whole body and I stopped, intent upon the extraordinary changes that were taking place.”
That’s quite something to write about a little sponge cake that’s eaten like a cookie, dipped in coffee or tea.
I have no such childhood memories of food that are so pleasant. What I do remember is the incident that forever marked me and my relationship to green beans, including the elegant haricot vert.
When I was growing up, green beans and most other vegetables served at dinner time came from cans, dumped into a saucepot and warmed on the stove, sometimes until they turned gray.
Pediatricians in the 1950’s were demigods, as Dr. Benjamin Spock’s tome on raising children was selling tens of thousands of copies. My mother was no different than any other of her contemporaries. She thought that the words of our pediatrician were the equivalent of the engraved stone tablets of Sinai.
Frustrated that I wouldn’t eat my green beans she turned to “Dr. Joe” who gave her this sage advice: “If he doesn’t eat them at dinner, serve them to him cold for breakfast.” And so from that point on I was forever marked.
I promise you, I’ve tried them all sorts of ways – steamed, broiled, roasted, tempura-battered. Green beans and I just don’t get along and I’m afraid we never will.
Funny thing is that like most other kids, I didn’t care much for most green vegetables, yet today I am a huge fan of greenies like Brussels sprouts, broccoli, asparagus, spinach and the like.
Now my mother will read this piece and ask my why I’m picking on her (again). Nothing will ever stand in her way of inducing guilt, even when I tell her that I understand that no one gave her a handbook on raising kids.
So let us think about the eating habits and food preferences we are instilling in our kids. I promise this is not a lecture about obesity or diabetes, though I share the concern of the medical and nutritionist communities about the health of America’s children. The British populist chef, Jamie Oliver, undertook a project in England’s schools to change children’s eating habits and now he’s bringing it to America. I hope he succeeds.
More vegetables, fewer fried foods, lower amounts of carbohydrate-laden foods, moderated fast food, and so on.
In the meantime, let me share with you a recipe for tempura-style green beans that I adapted from the Red Cat, a popular eatery in New York:
Make the dipping sauce first by combing 1-1/4 cups of Dijon mustard with healthy pinch of dry mustard, a tablespoon of Tabasco, a quarter cup of soy sauce and three-quarters of a cup of honey. Put all ingredients in a saucepan and whisk over low heat. Transfer to a bowl to cool.
Make the tempura batter by whisking four egg whites to soft peaks. Then whisk in, gradually, three cups of flour and two and three-quarter cups of club soda.
Heat some canola oil (deep enough for frying) to 350. Dip fresh green beans that you’ve trimmed into the batter and carefully lower them into the hot oil in small batches. Fry until golden, about three minutes. Remove to paper towels to drain and salt immediately.
Serve with the dipping sauce.
Everybody I’ve made this for tells me it’s delicious. But I’m sorry, I just can’t.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Moroccan Matzoh Ball Soup
Just in time for Passover, here's a soup with Moroccan overtones (a little cinnamon) and a nod to the Sephardic traditions of the holiday.
Monday, March 22, 2010
Kitchen Guy Promo Video
Here's the way we promote my weekly program: Kitchen Guy, The Tastiest Two Minutes in Television.
The Other Side of the Table
I’ve been giving wait staff a pretty hard time in my blogs, but isn’t it usually the case that a few miscreants give a whole group a bad rap?
There is another side to the story and, having been a waiter at more than one time in my younger days, I know from whence they speak.
Diners can be a pretty ugly lot, too. There are now a number of blogs written by waiters and waitresses, and a couple of books have just come out, written by waiters baring their souls about their travails in restaurant dining rooms. Some of you diners are doing some pretty weird and, from what I’ve read, some pretty rotten things.
Have you eaten half or more of your meal and then told your waiter it wasn’t prepared to your liking? Have you ordered something and then feigned an allergy?
Have you overstayed your welcome, thereby preventing the restaurant from turning the table in a reasonable amount of time, so that the restaurant and the waiter could make more money? Have you stayed to the point where the busboys are putting the chairs up on all of the vacant tables and you’re still lounging and chatting with an unpaid check? Did you know that the wait staff has more to do after the restaurant closes, so you’re keeping them way beyond regular hours.
Did you remember that most state laws exempt restaurants from paying their wait staff minimum wage, with the expectation that tips will make up the difference? Did you run a $90 bill and give the waiter $100 and tell him or her to “keep the change?” And did you do the math and figure out that you left an 11 percent tip?
Did you show up at the restaurant on a busy night without a reservation and insist that you should get not just any table, but one of the better tables in the place because you “know the owner?”
And on those busy nights, do you make special requests, expecting the chef to cater to your every whim? And did you know the chef does not cook every dish, so Joe or Manny or one of the other line cooks, more than likely only know the original recipe and aren’t really qualified to make the adjustments you asked for?
In some of our country’s larger cities waiting tables in high-end restaurants is regarded as a profession. And in some cases, the position can be so lucrative that it is handed down from father to son. There are waiters in New York City that make in excess of $100,000.
But waiters and waitresses also get an unfair rap for waiting on tables because many people think they’re biding their time waiting for a big break on the stage or screen or some other “better” job.
And in that same vein, have you asked your waiter or waitress what they really do for a living? Did you know that in most cases that’s an insulting question?
There are more people in a restaurant that make things happen that you never get to see. In many cases, the wait staff is obliged by restaurant management to give a percentage of their tips to the busboys, line cooks and, if there’s a maitre d’ or host/hostess, to him or her, too. Other restaurants pool tips so all waiters and waitresses make about the same amount each night they work – without regard to quality of service or check sizes.
Have you wondered why most restaurant menus now declare that parties of six or more will have an automatic gratuity added to the check? There’s a reason, but based on all of the foregoing, I’ll let you figure it out.
The long and short of it is that a large plurality of waiters and waitresses are doing a great job and they deserve to be tipped. In most European countries, a gratuity is added in to the check – an automatic 15 percent no matter what.
I’m a 20-percenter. I’ve walked in those shoes. But unlike the European system, it’s not automatic nor do I think it should it be. Gratuities are an expression of satisfaction or dissatisfaction. In my book, it’s no different than sending back food to the kitchen when it’s cooked incorrectly – how will they know they’ve done something wrong unless you tell them?
I think it ought to be the same with wait staff. Learn to earn.
There is another side to the story and, having been a waiter at more than one time in my younger days, I know from whence they speak.
Diners can be a pretty ugly lot, too. There are now a number of blogs written by waiters and waitresses, and a couple of books have just come out, written by waiters baring their souls about their travails in restaurant dining rooms. Some of you diners are doing some pretty weird and, from what I’ve read, some pretty rotten things.
Have you eaten half or more of your meal and then told your waiter it wasn’t prepared to your liking? Have you ordered something and then feigned an allergy?
Have you overstayed your welcome, thereby preventing the restaurant from turning the table in a reasonable amount of time, so that the restaurant and the waiter could make more money? Have you stayed to the point where the busboys are putting the chairs up on all of the vacant tables and you’re still lounging and chatting with an unpaid check? Did you know that the wait staff has more to do after the restaurant closes, so you’re keeping them way beyond regular hours.
Did you remember that most state laws exempt restaurants from paying their wait staff minimum wage, with the expectation that tips will make up the difference? Did you run a $90 bill and give the waiter $100 and tell him or her to “keep the change?” And did you do the math and figure out that you left an 11 percent tip?
Did you show up at the restaurant on a busy night without a reservation and insist that you should get not just any table, but one of the better tables in the place because you “know the owner?”
And on those busy nights, do you make special requests, expecting the chef to cater to your every whim? And did you know the chef does not cook every dish, so Joe or Manny or one of the other line cooks, more than likely only know the original recipe and aren’t really qualified to make the adjustments you asked for?
In some of our country’s larger cities waiting tables in high-end restaurants is regarded as a profession. And in some cases, the position can be so lucrative that it is handed down from father to son. There are waiters in New York City that make in excess of $100,000.
But waiters and waitresses also get an unfair rap for waiting on tables because many people think they’re biding their time waiting for a big break on the stage or screen or some other “better” job.
And in that same vein, have you asked your waiter or waitress what they really do for a living? Did you know that in most cases that’s an insulting question?
There are more people in a restaurant that make things happen that you never get to see. In many cases, the wait staff is obliged by restaurant management to give a percentage of their tips to the busboys, line cooks and, if there’s a maitre d’ or host/hostess, to him or her, too. Other restaurants pool tips so all waiters and waitresses make about the same amount each night they work – without regard to quality of service or check sizes.
Have you wondered why most restaurant menus now declare that parties of six or more will have an automatic gratuity added to the check? There’s a reason, but based on all of the foregoing, I’ll let you figure it out.
The long and short of it is that a large plurality of waiters and waitresses are doing a great job and they deserve to be tipped. In most European countries, a gratuity is added in to the check – an automatic 15 percent no matter what.
I’m a 20-percenter. I’ve walked in those shoes. But unlike the European system, it’s not automatic nor do I think it should it be. Gratuities are an expression of satisfaction or dissatisfaction. In my book, it’s no different than sending back food to the kitchen when it’s cooked incorrectly – how will they know they’ve done something wrong unless you tell them?
I think it ought to be the same with wait staff. Learn to earn.
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