playing with fire and water

salmon hot dog

There's a virtually untapped world of specialty malted grains made for the beer brewing industry that can be used to add unique flavor to baked goods. Two stand-outs are: smoked barley (gives Rauchmalz its smoky aroma) and chocolate rye (contributes nutty, caramel notes to dark stouts and Porters). Over the past year, I've tested them in everything from laminated pastries* to cookie doughs** with great effect, but it is the realm of yeasted doughs where they seem most at home. The robust complexity that chocolate rye adds to pumpernickel makes the original pale in comparison.

The virtue of making condiments lies in customization and enhanced flavor. Commercially made Dijon mustards taste flat and boring in comparison to the ones you can make yourself. The process starts with shallots and garlic simmered in Chardonnay. The reduced infusion is strained and blended with brown mustard powder, olive oil, and a few drops of honey. Sometimes, I customize it with various herbs and aromatics, but I always let it sit at room temperature for at least 2 weeks to ripen the flavor before storing in the refrigerator, where it will keep for three months or longer. It's a small effort for a big flavor; too big, it turns out, for my delicately flavored salmon hot dog.

Coincidentally, I was working on an orange horseradish*** puree for a pork dish that needed a nudge in the flavor department. A whole orange and peeled horseradish root had been steamed in a pressure cooker with white wine, then the whole lot pureed. Pressure cooking removes the acridity from the horseradish and softens the bitterness in the orange's pith, producing a puree with a mellower flavor than you would think possible from the raw ingredients. 

For the salmon hot dog, I punched up the puree by blending it with an equal amount of homemade Dijon, and— because I love citrus with salmon— I added microplaned orange zest. Mixing horseradish with mustard made sense because they both belong to the Brassica family, a simple observation that opened a new pathway to a great condiment.   

salmon sausage in leek casing
chocolate rye roll
horseradish orange mustard
kefir fermented daikon
fennel sprouts 

* croissants made with smoked barley flour and smoked butter are revelatory.

** see pepper cookies

*** please, no comments about the horseradish root. I only photographed and cooked the thing, Nature did the rest.

salmon sausage

Sausages need a casing.

That conclusion was reached while considering a naked and unappealing cylinder of poached salmon paste. It might've been acceptable had it not been about to be presented as a sausage.

Clearly, it needed a casing. The casing needed to be vegetarian. And with service quickly approaching, it needed to be fast.

Looking at vegetables to encase the sausage, there were two ways to go about it: wrapping or stuffing. Stuffing into a seamless casing was aesthetically preferable, but short of whitling a long, thin tube from a vegetable, there were no quick or easy alternatives that I could think of.

Wrapping, by far, offered the most doable options. Blanched leaves were considered, but rejected for their unwanted color and opacity. Translucent paper-thin sheets (which would have required breaking out the mad knife skillz) of potato, cucumber, zucchini, or daikon seemed the way to go, until a simpler technique involving leeks sprung to mind. The technique, as learned from a chef long ago was as follows: 

Trim the top and roots off of a long, fat leek. Cut halfway through the leeks lengthwise and dislodge the outer layers. Blanch, shock, and lay the leek sheets flat. Pipe the filling on the leek sheet, roll tightly around filling to encase, tie ends with string, wrap tightly in plastic wrap, and poach in barely simmering water.

With the leeks trimmed, I made the first cut. It wasn't until I began seperating the layers that I realized my folly: I was making a sheet to avoid making a tube, yet I had cut through a tube to make a sheet.

And that's how the most perfect vegetable casing that Nature could provide had almost eluded me.

salmon sausage

These sausages are a great way to use up trimmings. The flecks of smoked salmon give it a more dimensional flavor, as would the addition of fresh herbs, dried spice, grated aromatics, etc. They can be served hot, cold, or finished in a pan with butter. 

2 leeks
500g salmon, cut into chunks and well chilled
130g cold cream cheese, cut into chunks
4g salt
70g smoked salmon, minced and chilled

casings: Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Trim the root end off of the leeks and cut the tops where they begin to seperate and turn green. Drop the leeks into the boiling water and remove after 3 minutes. Using a dishtowel, pull the outer layer of the hot leeks up and over the tops until they're free. If they don't slide off easily, return to the boiling water for another minute or two. Repeat until you have enough casings to hold the filling, about 6- 8, depending on their width and length. 
filling: Place the salmon in the bowl of a food processor. Process in short bursts, scraping bowl 2-3 times, until reduced to a smooth paste. Distribute the cream cheese and salt over the top of paste and process again in short bursts, until the cream cheese is no longer distinguishable. Scrape paste into a bowl and fold in the smoked salmon mince.
stuffing: Slide a leek casing over the extension tube of a sausage stuffer, taking care to not tear the leek. Feed the paste through until it fills about 1" of the end of the casing (enough to release air pocket), then tie filled end with string. Continue feeding paste until casing is filled. Remove from tube and tie open end with string. If sausage stuffer is not available, fill casings by piping filling through a pastry bag fitted with a long, wide tip. Or, do it old school (like my mother still does), by forcing the filling with thumbs through a funnel fitted into one end of the casing.
cooking: Drop tied sausages into a 50C water bath and cook for 20 minutes (no bag needed).

 

 

 

venison pepper banon

I adore spice cookies with cheese... cream cheese sandwiched between two wafers of thin gingerbread... blue cheese spread on gingersnaps... soft molasses cookies with melted taleggio (and beets!)... toasted lebkuchen and almond crumbs scattered over burrata.... these make me very happy.

And so,when this liquid-ripe banon crossed my path, it could not escape its destiny with the naked pepper cookies. Nor could the gamey venison tenderloin, a gift from a hunter who generously gave up what he considered the best part of the animal.  Add to that: bittersweet ginger shards, roasted persimmon caramel, and tiny green peppercress seeds, and I'm very happy indeed.

pepper cookies

It just isn't Christmas until I've tasted that first warm bite of spice cookies. Gingerbread, gingersnaps, lebkuchen, speculaas, hermits— I love them all!

As their names imply, pfeffernusse, pepparkakor, and piparkakut are spice cookies that are set apart from the rest by the inclusion of pepper. But if you're expecting the fragrant, tingling burn of piperine, you might be disappointed as even the oldest recipes for these cookies contain only small amounts of pepper, whose flavor is overshadowed by other pungent spices. 

Don't get me wrong— I still enjoy these cookies— it's just that they don't quite live up to the promise of their name. And since it was their name that captured my imagination in the first place, it was high time to re-imagine what a pepper cookie can be.

clockwise from top left: long pepper (Piper longum), pink peppercorns (Schinus terebinthifolius), black peppercorns (Piper nigrum), sichuan pepper (Zanthoxylum piperitum), grains of paradise (Aframomum melegueta), green peppercorns (immature Piper nigrum), center: chile tepin (Capsicum annuum var. glabriusculum)

pepper cookies
makes about 5 dozen 2" cookies 

Chocolate rye malt is used in the production of dark beers and can be purchased from beer brewing suppliers. It gives these cookies a pleasant bitter edge, deep roasted aroma, and darker color. If unavailable, substitute equal amount of wheat or rye flour that has been slowly roasted in a low oven to a dark chocolate color.

spice blend: 6 black peppercorns, 5 green peppercorns, 8 pink peppercorns, 1/4 tsp sichuan pepper, 1/4 tsp grains of paradise, 1/2 of a long pepper, 3 chile tepin, 4" piece of cinnamon stick, 4 whole cloves, 2 cardamom pods, 8 coriander seeds, 1/2 tsp coarse salt

Place all ingredients in a spice blender and grind to a fine powder. Sift ground spices through a fine sieve and re-grind any coarse pieces.

245g (2 cups) flour
14g (3 Tblsps) finely ground chocolate rye malt, or dark toasted flour
2.5g (1/2 tsp) baking powder
1.25g (1/4 tsp) baking soda 
85g (3 oz) unsalted butter, softened
150g (5.25 oz) muscavado or dk brown sugar
1 egg
7g microplaned fresh galangal root, or ginger root 

Place the ground spice mixture in a bowl with the flour, chocolate rye malt, baking powder, and baking soda. Whisk until well blended. In the bowl of an electric mixer, cream the butter and sugar on medium speed until lightened. Add the egg and galangal and mix until incorporated. Add the dry ingredients and mix on low speed until a dough forms. Wrap dough in plastic wrap or place in an airtight container and age in refrigerator for 2 days to allow flavors to bloom and mellow.
When ready to bake, preheat oven to 176C/350F. Roll out dough to .63 cm/ 1/4" thickness and cut into desired shapes. Bake for 10-12 minutes. When cool, dust with confectioners sugar.

(ground and whole) chocolate malted rye berries

fruit tart

Once, my friend Judy gave me a rudimentary lesson on throwing pottery. I can still remember how the clay felt between my fingers as it turned on the wheel. Supple. Lithe. Obsequious. A gentle pull would make the clay rise like a tower; a push would flatten it into a slab. Up... down... out... in... I delighted in the responsive dance of force and symmetry. 

I went into the pottery studio that day with a project in mind: a shallow bowl with thin walls that tapered gently outward. Tried as I did, my inexperienced hands couldn't make the clay dance that way. Later, it was decided that the best way to build the bowl was from a molded slab. The process involved rolling, cutting and molding. THESE were motions that my hands understood; it was the dance of pastry.

There are two types of molds used for clay slabs: slump and hump. In slump molding, the clay is laid inside the mold, much like pastry dough is fitted inside a pie or tart pan. In hump molding, the clay is draped over the outside of the mold. This was how I formed my bowl because: 1) it was the only type of mold available at the studio, and 2) it allowed the inside of the bowl to remain smooth and free of blemishes while modeling the slab to the mold. The process made me question why we build pastry crusts inside the confinement of pans and overlook the outside. 

Wet clay is made up of fine mineral particles that float in thin layers of water. When clay is rolled, the particles line up in the direction of the force. If a clay slab is rolled in only one direction, the particles line up to form a grain that will cause the object to shrink against the grain when dried and fired.

I've often wondered why recipes for pie crusts insist that the dough should be rolled from the center out, and why they sometimes shrink unevenly when baked. I've wondered, too, about the turns in laminated doughs. I never expected to find the answers in working with clay, but I'm glad I did.

freeform pate brisee bowl ✢ yuzu curd ✢ meringue 
rambutan ✢ lychee ✢ myoga ✢ ume
ground cherry ✢ black sesame 

myoga and ume

A pair of new-to-me Japanese ingredients that I'm excited to work with:

Myoga (Zingiber mioga) is a close relative of common culinary ginger root (Zingiber officinale) that is prized for its edible flower buds. The buds are made up of scales that are crisp— like celery— with a refreshing ginger flavor that is characteristic of the genus. In Japan, myoga is commonly served raw in sushi, and as a condiment (yakumi) for cold dishes such as tofu and noodles. In other preparations, it is pickled or dipped in tempura batter and fried.

Ume (Prunus mume), often refered to as a type of plum, is a distinct species that is more closely related to apricots. Ume, with 4-5% acidity, are tarter than plums (1-2%), and contain astringent polyphenols, as well as glutamine, an amino acid. In Japan, ume are almost exclusively consumed in a preserved form. The most popular, umeboshi, is made with lactic acid fermentation, where the ripe yellowish plums are salted and weighted, then dyed with red shiso (akajiso) before being dried. Unripe ume are steeped for prolonged periods in shochu and sugar to make umeshu (ume liqueur). In this preparation, the flavor of the flesh, as well as the kernel, infuses the umeshu, which is then enjoyed straight up or in a cocktail. The liquor-soaked fruit (pictured above) is fragrant and addictive.

cornu copiae

The symbolism of the cornucopia as a font of abundance is attributed to classic mythology, most notably to the goat Amalthea, who was Zeus' foster mother and nursemaid. The story goes that young Zeus, after breaking off one of Amalthea's horn, atoned for the accident by endowing it with his divine power to provide, in an endless supply, any fruit that she desired. As fantastical as the myth may be, at its core is a loving compensation of nourishment, and a promise of an eternal feast.

gingersnap pecan ✢ pumpkin pie mousse ✢ chocolate

pumpkin pie mousse

120g cream cheese, softened
120g pumpkin puree
20g sugar
1g cinnamon
.75g ground ginger
.50g ground nutmeg
200g cold heavy cream

Beat cream cheese until light and fluffy. Add pumpkin, sugar and spices and beat until well blended. Stir in heavy cream until mixture is smooth. Pour into a .5 Liter iSi whip canister and charge with 1 N2O cartridge. Invert canister and shake vigorously. Chill for 30 minutes before dispensing.  

In this season of gratitude and feasting, may your horn always overflow with plenty.

sweet potato pie

glazed baby sweet potatoes ✢ kieffer lime marshmallow
sweet potato crumble

 

glazed sweet potatoes

150g peeled baby sweet potatoes, or mature sweet potatoes cut into .5" x 3.5" batons
30g unsalted butter, melted
30g maple syrup
10g dark rum
10 gratings of tonka bean on microplane 
pinch of salt

Pack sweet potatoes in a single layer in a vacuum bag. Combine the remaining ingredients in a small bowl and pour over sweet potatoes. Pull a vacuum on the filled bag and seal. Cook in an 82C/180F water bath for 25 minutes. Empty contents of bag into a saute pan and set over med-high heat. Cook, tossing frequently, until liquid has reduced to a glaze and coats the sweet potatoes. Keep warm until ready to assemble.

sweet potato crumble

100g grated sweet potato
8g butter
35g orange juice
35g water

Melt the butter in a saute pan set over medium high heat. Add the shredded sweet potato and toss to coat evenly with butter. Add the orange juice and water and bring to a simmer. Cover and cook for about 5 minutes or until the potato shreds are just tender. Uncover and raise the heat to high. Cook until all liquid is evaporated and the shreds begin to sizzle. Immediately remove pan from heat and transfer contents to a parchment-lined baking sheet. Carefully separate and spread the shreds out in a single layer, ensuring that there are no clumps. Bake the shreds in a 76C/170F oven for about 90 minutes, or until they are dry and crisp, tossing, separating, and re-spreading the shreds several times. Cool completely.

30g pecans
60g flour 
15g muscavado sugar
15g malted milk powder
2g microplaned gingerroot
1g salt
a pinch each of ground cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, and allspice
45g unsalted butter, cut in small dice

Place the cooled, crisp sweet potato shreds and the pecans in food processor and process in short bursts until reduced to sandy consistency. Add the remaining ingredients except for the butter, and process just until blended. Sprinkle the diced butter over top and process in short bursts, stopping when mixture forms small clumps. Transfer the crumbled dough onto a baking sheet and shake the sheet to evenly distribute the crumbs. Bake at 325F for 15-20 minutes to set the crumbs. Keep warm in a low oven until ready to assemble.

kieffer lime marshmallow

170g sugar
 5g kieffer lime leaves, chopped
1g kieffer lime or persian lime zest
28g water
185g liquid glucose (or substitute corn syrup) 

Place sugar, lime leaves, and zest in food processor and process until lime leaves and zest are reduced to fine pieces. Transfer contents to a small saucepan and add water. Cover and place over low heat until sugar is melted and liquid. Remove from heat and allow syrup to infuse for 15 minutes. Strain mixture through fine sieve and return syrup to saucepan. Add glucose and heat mixture to 120C/248F (firm ball stage).

67g water
7g powdered gelatin
2g vanilla extract

While syrup is heating, place the water in the bowl of a stand mixer and sprinkle the gelatin over the top. Position the bowl to the mixer and fit with the whisk attachment. When the syrup reaches 115C/240F,  turn the mixer on low. When syrup reaches the firm ball stage, immediately remove from heat and begin to pour the syrup slowly down the inside surface of the mixer bowl, with the mixer still on low. When approximately 1/4 of the syrup is in the bowl, turn the mixer up to high speed and continue slowly pouring the syrup down the side of the bowl, being careful to not pour it onto the whisk. Scrape the remaining syrup that is clinging to the saucepan (heat briefly if it has begun to harden) and add to the bowl. Continue beating the syrup on high speed until it is white and fluffy and has tripled in volume, about 10 minutes. Beat in the vanilla.

60g confectioner's sugar
40g cornstarch

While the syrup is being whipped, combine the confectioner's sugar and cornstarch and place half of it in a sieve. Line a baking sheet with parchment and dust thickly with the mixture. Place the remaining mixture in the sieve so that it is ready to dust over the top of marshmallow.
If the marshmallow is to be piped, have a bowl of hot water ready, large enough to insert the mixer bowl, to keep the marshmallow fluid. As soon as the marshmallow is ready, Place the mixer bowl in the bowl of hot water to keep the gelatin from setting, and immediately transfer about 1 cup of mixture to a piping bag fitted with a 3/8" tip. Pipe elongated shapes that mimic the baby sweet potatoes onto the dusted baking sheet. Forming the tapers takes a little practice: start by piping a small amount onto the surface of the marshmallow in the bowl and pulling the piping bag away quickly to form the leading taper. Then begin forming the marshmallows by piping about 2.5" onto the dusted baking sheet and anchoring it with the tip of a small knife while slowly pulling the remaining length into a fine taper from the piping bag until it breaks off. Dust the tops with the additional confectioners sugar/cornstarch mixture and allow the mixture to cool and firm before rolling in mixture to coat all sides.
Alternately, the marshmallows can be formed by scraping the entire mass (while still warm) onto the dusted baking sheet and quickly spreading with a heated spatula to .5" thickness. Dust the top with the additional confectioners sugar/cornstarch mixture and allow the mixture to cool and firm before cutting into .5" x 3.5" batons with a heated knife.

 

To assemble: Spread a thin layer of the warm sweet potato crumble on a serving dish. Top with an alternating row of warm glazed sweet potatoes and marshmallow. Brulee the top of the marsnhmallows with a torch. Serve immediately. 

matsutake

Outside of Japan, matsutake mushrooms (Tricholoma matsutake) are not as well known as other aromatic funghi.
Truffles (genus Tuber), prized for their heady funk, and the more delicate Porcini (Boletus edulis) delight us with their earthy aromas that express their habitat of deciduous woods.
The distinct aroma of matsutakes distills the essence of the pine forests in which they grow. Their name alone (matsu=pine, take=mushroom) tells their story.

matsutake ✢ pine-tahoon oil ✢ kefir
kabosu zest ✢ turmeric gari

 

pork jowl creamed smoked cabbage

The other pork jowl steak was covered with thin slices of Benton's country ham, tightly rolled and cooked sous vide at 60C/140F for 3 hours, then chilled in the bag overnight.

The pork roll had remarkable flavor and texture, like a fine charcuterie— as if the ham had cured the pork from within. It held its shape, even when thinly sliced, until the heat of a pan caused them to unfurl their tails, whimsically creating pork commas.

Whoever said that cabbage is the lowliest of vegetables had surely never seen the Savoy, whose extravagantly blistered leaves look like the velvet trapunto quilts of European finery. The flavor, too, is more refined than the common smooth-leaved variety. And those nooks and crannies? They make great traps for sauces.

With the weather propelling toward winter, I've been working on hearty vegetable dishes that are free of dairy and gluten. In my world, where I'm often feeding people with restricted diets, dishes like these are my Ace in the hole. Cabbage was first on my list with the intention of transforming it into something comforting, yet luxurious.  I thought I could accomplish that by saucing the tender leaves of Savoy with a creamy puree of itself, but that wasn't producing the full mouth feel that I was after.
Simultaneously, I've been exploring the process of using cooked grains and nut purees as thickeners in place of refined starches. Refined starches work wonders at altering texture without affecting flavor, but there are times when the whole personality of a food (instead of just one of its properties) is welcome. And cabbage had rolled out the mat.
I pondered the options over breakfast: wheat was out, so should I use buckwheat, quinoa, rice, pumpkin seeds, chestnuts?  All were viable, but ultimately, the answer laid before me in my bowl of oatmeal.

creamed smoked cabbage

Adding steel cut oats to cabbage puree gives it a creamy richness, but don't substitute instant or rolled oats or you may end up with a gluey, too-much-Xanthan-like consistency.
If meat products are not an issue, I recommend using chicken stock, augmented with ham scraps for the liquid. Otherwise, vegetable broth, or water, is fine.
Smoking the cabbage is optional, but especially in the absence of meat, it makes a marked difference in the enjoyment of the dish. 

oatmeal:  20g steel cut oats, lightly toasted in a dry pan
                60g apple cider
                1g salt
Place all of ingredients in a vacuum bag and seal. Cook in an 82C/180F water bath for 55 minutes.

cabbage:  350g de-ribbed Savoy cabbage leaves that have been cut into 1/4" squares
                bouquet garni of: 1 bay leaf, 5 peppercorns, 4 juniper berries, 2g fresh caraway seeds or 1g dried
                200g vegetable, chicken, or ham stock
                6g salt
                2g baking soda
Pack cabbage  and bouquet garni into a vacuum bag. In a small bowl, stir the stock, salt, and baking soda until dissolved, them pour over the cabbage in bag. Seal bag and place in water bath with the oatmeal (82C/180F) for 45 minutes. When done, open the bag and drain contents, discarding the bouquet garni.
Lightly smoke the cabbage with smoked apple wood chips in a smoker for 5 minutes, following manufacturer's directions. (alternately, use a smoke gun). 
Separate 125g of the cooked cabbage and place the remaining cabbage in a saucepan.

cream:      6g sliced garlic
                50g extra virgin olive oil
                125g of smoked cabbage from above
                contents of cooked oatmeal bag from above
                50g vegetable, chicken, or ham stock
                2g fresh caraway leaves, or a blend of 1.5g fresh dill weed and 1g dried caraway seeds
Heat the olive oil over low heat and add the garlic. Sweat the garlic until fragrant, translucent, and just beginning to color. Scrape into a blender along with the remaining ingredients. Blend on high to form a smooth puree.
to finish: scrape puree into saucepan with remaining cabbage and toss over low heat until warmed through and the cabbage leaves are evenly coated. Season with salt and pepper to taste. 

I toasted some Savoy leaves (after misting them with olive oil) in a 176C/350F oven for a few minutes until they were crisp. They reminded me of the Caldas da Rainha ceramics that I collected in the 90's when they were popular. I was drawn to their realistic depictions of natural forms, mostly cabbage leaves. My favorite piece remains a soup tureen, a trompe l'oeil of a head of Savoy, which I swear that any soup that is served from it tastes better.

The crispy cabbage leaves make tasty edible bowls for serving the creamed smoked cabbage. They can be picked up, folded, and eaten out of hand— no utensils required. Here, they're filled with creamed smoked kale (which works just as well as cabbage), slices of rolled pork jowl, 64℃ quail egg yolk, fresh garbanzo beans cooked with horseradish, and pickled rutabagas.