In Praise of the Farmers Market

Farmers market booty.  Photo by Rob Robitaille

If you have never gone to a farmers market, shame on you!  Find one and go!  You don't know what you are missing!  In my community, the farmers market is held in the central park every Saturday morning from late spring until fall.  Actually, there is a winter farmers market held indoors as well, but as you are about to see, I prefer the summer market.  It is part of my weekend ritual and I look forward to it all week long.  If I have to miss it for some reason, I feel somehow deprived.  There are many reasons to go.  It helps support the local community, you get excellent products, you can save some money, and it is just fun to talk to people and build relationships with vendors.

The market caters to many interests; anything from beads, honey, birdhouses, hand woven rugs, cookies, pies, pickles, paintings, cheese, clothing, and kitchen scrubby pads.  However, my favorite reason to visit the farmers market is produce.  There are several vendors, each with different reasons for being there, and each bringing something different to the scene.  Many are avid gardeners selling their surplus, but some are farmers in the truest sense.  You can spot them a mile away.  You can see it in their faces, the hours of hard work in the sun, but also of the satisfaction of eking out a living doing what they know and love.  Several of our vendors fall into the later category.  These people are serious farmers and take pride in their work.  You can see it in the quality of their products, and how they are presented.  Shiny clean, neatly bundled, and proudly displayed lined up beautifully on long multi-tiered tables.  Vegetables so picture perfect that you can't help but buy them and then figure out what you are going to do with them later.

I usually start my morning with an older couple selling produce from a large delivery truck.  They are both very kind, with easy smiles, and are my prime source of carrots, onions, peppers, and, later in the season, ripe red jalapeños by the bags full.  This past weekend I was pleasantly surprised to find a gentleman selling tomatoes that I had never seen there before.  And not just any tomatoes.  He must have had at least 15 different varieties of tomatoes in all shapes, colors, and sizes.  The line was long, which is always a good sign, and was definitely worth the wait.  He was asking $1 per pound of any type so, of course, I walked away with 5 pounds.  Well, I didn't walk away with them, I payed him.  The most interesting ones were the beautiful yellow tomatoes with the fuzzy skin.  They feel just like a peach and they are almost as sweet.  Along with these, I also bought a couple huge beef steak tomatoes from another one of my favorite vendors, a tall, lanky, musky fishing handyman with an obvious love and aptitude for gardening.  All the while visions of tomato salad and French tomato tart filled my mind.  But as good as all these things are, the best by far is a simple plate of sliced tomatoes, or in this case, one huge tomato.

Fresh tomatoes need very little to bring them to their full potential.  You don't need to beat them into submission, but rather gently coax them.  In fact, good ingredients typically only need gentle coaxing.  First, I started with the tomato.  A rather large brute of a tomato, weighing in at a bit over a pound.  I sliced it about 3/8" thick and arranged it on a plate.  Actually, I had to do a bit of creative arranging to get it to fit on a large plate.  So, here is where the coaxing comes in.  All it needs is a sprinkle of kosher salt, a sprinkle of sugar (it helps tone down the acid of red tomatoes), a light drizzle of good sherry vinegar, and finish with a light sprinkle of extra virgin olive oil.  That is it.  I ate the whole damn think myself and don't feel any shame whatsoever.  I couple of times I thought "I bet my wife would enjoy this."  And, she probably would have, but she chose to sleep in.  Her loss.

So, get out there to your local farmers market.  Enjoy the open air, support your local vendors, and get some of the best ingredients around.  And, save money in the process.

Breaking Free of Recipe Reliance

Let's think about recipes for a moment.  What are they really?

1. A list of ingredients, measurements, and instructions that should  be followed exactly in order to prepare a dish 
2. A general guide to preparing a dish so that you don't forget something
3. Something that stifles creativity
4. Something that reminds you that you hand write bad enough to be a doctor
5. All of the above

If your answer is 5, you are correct.  So, what is my point?  Well, there are a couple of them.  The first one is that I hopefully made you think a little bit about recipes, which helps with the second point, which is that they definitely have their place, but should not be relied on for everything.  A novice cook needs recipes, but an experienced cook only needs them for certain things.  The big problem is that people have a hard time weaning themselves off of recipe reliance, and until you make that step, you will never realize your creative potential.  That is not to say that being recipe reliant is necessarily a bad thing, but since you are reading this post, I will assume that you are of the ilk that wants more out of cooking.  So, how do you get out of recipe reliance?

First, you need to have an idea of which recipes you should follow.  Here are the types of recipes I actually follow:

• For things I want to taste consistent such as spice mixes, sauces, salad dressings, and certain baked goods
• For things where safety is critical such as cured and fermented foods
• For things that have a particular technique or trick to them in order to work out, such as emulsions 
• For things that are just to damn complicated to remember

Next, you need to make the conscious effort to back away from all other recipes and trust yourself.  You can make most things using a few basic techniques, past experience, and your senses. Here is a good example.  I bet anyone can make chicken soup without a recipe.  If you have ever eaten chicken soup, you already know most of what goes into it.  Granted, results may vary the first couple of times you make it, but you should get something pleasantly edible even if it isn't perfect.  Step one is to think about what is in chicken soup.  The easy one is chicken stock.  Some vegetables are always good.  What kind is up to you, but you can never go wrong with a mirapoix, the old French go-to of carrot, onion, and celery.  Don't forget to season with salt along the way and while you are at it, perhaps throw in some additional aromatics like a bay leaf, thyme, parsley, all three, or whatever else you like.  You will probably also want to add some cooked chicken at some point, typically towards the end so it doesn't fall apart.  Noodles are also good, again toward the end so they don't turn to mush.  You will learn very quickly to ignore the little voice that says "that's not very many noodles, better add some more" once you have accidentally made something that resembles a hot dish instead of soup, but again, it will still taste good, it just won't be the way you intended.  The up side is that the next time you make it, you can apply what you have learned and in a short time will be making technically good chicken soup without a recipe.

The final note on breaking free of recipe reliance is to not be afraid of failure.  This actually applies to every facet of life, but I digress.  You are going to fail at some point, it's inevitable if you are trying.  Everyone does it regardless of how long they have been cooking.  But that is how you learn and become an even better cook.  Sometimes it is a minor thing that only you will notice like you forgot the bay leaf.  Other times it may be spectacular, like waking up to a very unpleasant smell after falling asleep for four hours while resting your eyes after putting your braise in the oven that normally only takes two and a half hours and forgetting to set the timer.  I know that is a pretty specific example...that I must have just come up with.  Just don't let it dampen your creative mood.  Get back in there and try again while not repeating the same mistakes.  Soon, boo-boos will be fewer and farther between, but most importantly, you will be unburdened  by recipe reliance and your creativity will soar.

Basic Salad Dressing

Basic Salad Dressing in a Cassis bottle.  Photo by Rob Robitaille

One item that is alway, and I mean always, in my fridge is a bottle of basic salad dressing.  My mom calls it Rob's House Dressing, which is nice, but I think it would come off as pretentious if I would start calling it that.  I'm flattered that she does, though.  In case you are wondering why it is in the Cassis bottle, it's because it has a really cool pour spout with a pop-off cap which works like a shaker so it is harder to over-dress your salad.  Although not nearly as colorful as the family tree of French sauces, this does have an interesting one of its own.  This is the building block of just about every other salad dressing I make outside of something like a buttermilk ranch or thousand island.  It is very nice by itself for use on delicately flavored greens, but nearly anything can be added to make something completely different.  Add some Italian herbs and you have a light Italian dressing. Add the same herbs and some mayo, and you have a creamy Italian dressing.  Add a bit more mayo and some grated Parmesan and you have an excellent wing sauce.  Like with most things, you are only limited by your imagination.

Basic Salad Dressing

• 1/2 cup rice wine vinegar
• 1/4 cup sugar
• 1 tbsp salt
• black pepper to taste
• 3/4 cup canola oil

Add all the ingredients except oil in a suitably sized bottle or jar and let stand on the counter for at least an hour shaking occasionally to mix.  Add the oil and refrigerate until needed.  Shake vigorously before using.

Italian Dressing Seasoning

• 1/4 cup garlic powder
• 1/4 cup onion powder 
• 2 tbsp dried basil
• 2 tbsp dried marjoram
• 2 tbsp ground fennel seed
• 1/4 cup dried oregano
• 2 tbsp crushed red pepper
• 3/4 cup sugar
• 1/4 cup kosher salt
• 1 tbsp black pepper

Mix together and store in an air tight container.  Makes about 2 cups.  Combine to your taste with the basic salad dressing to make a light Italian dressing.

Tortillas...Another Secret Weapon of the Kitchen

Cheese Pizza.  Photo by Rob Robitaille

I think I must have taken a cue from Jacques Pepin for his enthusiastic embrace of the tortilla.  He points out that it is a ready to use crust for deserts and other things.  I can think of no better use (well, other than its normal use in Mexican cuisine) than for mini pizzas.  Whenever I am short on time, or just want something quick and easy for lunch or dinner, I make pizza.  As long as you don't pile it a mile high with toppings, these tortilla crust pizzas can be baked in 5-8 minutes.  I make these for lunch with plenty of time to spare during my lunch hour.

Sad story tangent.  I was taking out my cooling rack from my cupboard that has the dividers that you can store cookie sheets, cutting  boards, etc. and it hooked my favorite pizza stone that we got for a wedding present over 20 years ago.  It rolled out and as I tried to save it with my foot, which was my only free appendage at the time, it tipped and cracked in half.  Dammit!  I'm going somewhere with this, so bear with me.  So I started researching pizza stones.  Turns out the brand I had, which was perfectly smooth, is now rough and not near the quality it was.  In fact, it is a lot harder to find a really nice smooth stone.  Mario Batali makes a nice pizza stone, but there is no way I will spend $89 on one.  Then it hit me that I have a 10.5" lodge cast iron griddle pan.  Perfect.

So the way this works is that I put the griddle pan in the oven and turn it to 425 F.  While it is heating up, I mix a can of tomato past with some Italian herbs, and spread it on a tortilla.  Then I add my toppings, usually some kind of meat and Parmesan.  By that time the oven beeps at which time I wait another five minutes so that the pan can catch up in temperature.  Then, I slide the pizza onto the pan and set my timer for 5 minutes.  After 5 minutes I start to check on it until the cheese is golden and bubbly.  Then I remove it to a cooling rack and wait another 5 minutes until it is cool enough to not cause 3rd degree burns in my mouth.  During that time I rinse the griddle under hot water with a stiff brush (never use soap on a cast iron pan unless you plan to re-season it!).  Now it is time to enjoy a crispy flavorful pizza and it only took about 20 minutes from start to finish.

What makes this really fun is that you can buy any size tortilla for this and you can make several different styles of pizza for any one meal.  If you prefer a pizza with more toppings, go for it.  It will just take a bit longer to cook, but I prefer mine thin and crispy.  Next time you don't know what to cook for dinner or lunch, give this a try.  Chances are you will probably have all the ingredients on hand.  And to finish my sad story, I don't think I will bother replacing my pizza stone since the griddle pan works even better (and is harder to break).  If I decide I need some thing larger, Lodge makes a 14" baking pan with handles that would make a fantastic pizza pan.  See, things always seem to find a way of working out.

Tempura

Shrimp and green bean tempura with spicy mayo.  Photo by Rob Robitaille

What can you say about tempura, other than it's fantastic.  If you are not familiar with tempura, a Japanese specialty, it is basically deep fried food, but with a twist.  The batter is very light, crisp, and doesn't overpower the food like traditional deep frying tends to do.  I'm not saying that there is anything wrong with typical deep fried food, quite the contrary, I love it.  But tempura is like the refined cousin.  Tempura batter is fairly thin, so by its very nature does not coat the food too much.  There are tons of variations on the normal tempura batter.  Some have egg, some have rice flour, some use water, some use seltzer water, and on and on.  I think the spirit of tempura is there as long as the batter is thin and relatively simple.  I have seen just about anything served in the style of tempura, perhaps even more than you see in typical deep frying.  Green beans and shrimp are among my favorites, but cauliflower, broccoli, peppers, asparagus, zucchini, onions, basically anything as long as it is not too moist and can be properly cooked in only a few minutes.  I have done pickles, and they were wonderful, but not particularly crispy due to their natural sogginess.

As with many cuisines, especially eastern cuisine, there are a lot of rules.  And while I am a stickler for technique in some cases, I don't like to get too bogged down in them so it makes you not want to attempt them.  If you are familiar with batter deep frying, then you probably know most of the rules:

• Let your food dry a bit before adding to the batter.
• Don't crowd your deep fryer.  Things tend to stick together in a huge clump, but more importantly, it lowers the temperature of the oil, which just makes for soggy, oily food.
• Resist the urge to mess with your food once in the deep fryer. 
• Drain well.  A wire cooking rack on a baking sheet works well for this.
• Cook at around 350 degrees F.

Now, there are a couple additional rules for the batter itself:

• Mix the ingredients until they are just combined.
• Use very cold liquid.

Now, for the confusion.  Some say mix the batter right before you use it, and some say to refrigerate it for 30 minutes prior to use.  This may have some merit based on what kind of liquid (flat or carbonated), but I have not spent any time testing this.  I will just tell you what I did, and as you can see, it was very light and crisp, and it was delicious.  Not to mention easy.

All-Purpose Tempura

• 3/4 cup flour
• 1/4 cup corn starch
• 1 cup lager (I use Grain Belt Premium)
• 1 lb extra large shrimp (26/30)
• 1 lb green beans
• Oil for deep frying (I use canola)
• A deep fryer or heavy pot

Lightly mix the flour, corn starch, and beer in a bowl.  Refrigerate for 30 minutes.  In the mean time, heat your oil to 350 degrees F.   Peel the shrimp and blot dry with paper towels.  Feel free to place the each shrimp on a short bamboo skewer lengthwise.  This will keep the shrimp straight.  If you don't care about such things, as I obviously didn't in the picture above, skip that step.  Place on a couple layers of paper towel and let dry until ready to use.  Trim and wash the beans and dry just like you did for the shrimp.  When 30 minutes have past, you are ready to go.  Working in small batches, place 1/4 of the beans in the batter, then place them, one at a time, into the oil.  Fry for about 2 minutes, just until the batter becomes golden brown. Gently remove to a wire rack placed over a baking sheet.  Place in a warm oven.  Repeat until the beans are done.

Next, repeat the process for the shrimp.  They will only take a couple minutes as well.  Remove the skewers prior to serving.  Enjoy with your favorite tempura sauce or a spicy mayo like I did.

Chicken Wings Demystified

Hoisin Chili Chicken Wings.  Photo by Rob Robitaille

When people talk about wings, they always talk about the sauce and gloss over the flavor and texture of the actual wing.  There is much more to chicken wings than the sauce.  Seems to me that the places that sell wings forget that and, instead, put the sauce in the spotlight.  But, the sauce is supposed to compliment the chicken wing.  If it is a good chicken wing, one could argue that it really doesn't need sauce. I admit that I am kind of a chicken wing snob.  I think that most places under-cook their wings.  Granted, they are done and safe to eat, but the meat still clings to the bone and you have to put a bit of effort in gnawing on them.  I hate that.  A lot.  I know a lot of people that go fore the boneless wings, which aren't wings at all.  When I ask them why, I get the same answer; they don't like gnawing on bones.  I contend that you shouldn't have to work at chicken wings, if made properly.  And to be made properly, you need to have your head in the game.

Chicken wings are one of those intuitive things that you can't simply slap a temperature and time on and, all will be well, and people will cheer your name and make toasts to you all night long.  There is a fine line between tender, pull-off-the-bone goodness, and past tender, kind of dry, but still falling off the bone wings.  Let us not forget about the above mentioned not-so-tender-stuck-to-the-bone-yet-done-enough-to-be-safe-to-eat wings.  So, what's the secret?  Practice, practice, practice.  Also, don't fall into the pitfall of underestimating these things because they are so small and simple looking.  They take a fair amount of thought to do properly.

The sauce is ancillary to the whole process.  If you like creating your own sauces, like I do, then do it.  Go crazy.  But if that is not your bag, then find yourself something from the market that you enjoy.  Ultimately, you are going to make chicken wings, not sauce with chicken wings.  To start with, you need wings.  I usually buy a family pack of wings for me and my wife and usually can get one meal with left-overs.  The wing is made up of three parts: the drumette, flat, and the tip. Like most wing restaurants, I split my wings into the three parts.  The tips go into a vacuum bag and are saved for stock.  The rest is dinner.

Next, I dredge them in a mixture of flour, cornstarch, and salt.  Some could argue that you don't need this step, but it is up to you.  Then, I fry them in canola oil at a temperature of around 350-360.  Typically, they will take about 16-20 minutes depending on how big the wings are.  I start to really pay attention to them at around 15 minutes and check for color and how much steam is still rolling off the deep fryer.  Again, this takes practice.

While they are frying, I dig out my huge stainless steel bowl.  I have never measured, but it has to be at least 20" across with very slopped sides, which is perfect for tossing the wings in the sauce.  Then I add some sauce to the bowl, and when the wings are done, in they go for a nice bath of sauce and out on the plate.

I know of few people who make their own wings, and it is a shame, really.  Yes, you need to deal with some kind of deep fryer and the left over oil, but it is worth it.  With a little practice, you can make better wings than the restaurants.

Sweet and Sour Spam - Just Because

Photo by Rob Robitaille

Nothing makes sense these days.   I walked past our koi pond on the way to my truck, which sits outside the garage because my motorcycle is out and ready to go...if it ever warms up.  The pond was mostly frozen over again and I had to scrape off the windshield because we had record (or near record) lows last night.  I would love to see some warm rain instead of sleet, snow, and ice.  May is just a few days away, dammit!  But not everything that fails to make sense is a bad thing.

The other evening, after working on some remodeling projects, I realized that it was getting late and I hadn't eaten.  As it would happen, I didn't have any meat that wasn't frozen.  So, I started looking through the freezer for something that would thaw quickly and satisfy my craving for meat.  Nothing.  I was just about to give up when I spotted it sitting on my pantry shelf.  A can of Spam.  Now, there appear to be two groups of people in the world, those that love Spam and those that hate Spam.  But, after talking to enough people over the years there are actually four:

1. Those that love Spam and are proud of it.  They may even ask a person at the grocery store where the Spam is, even though they know exactly where it is.  It is their way of letting everyone know they eat Spam and are not ashamed of it.
2. Those that hate Spam, and really do.
3. Those that say they hate Spam, but have never even tried it.
4. Those that say they hate Spam, but enjoy it at home, with the curtains drawn.  They buy it at the store, looking around to make sure no one sees them, then they snatch several cans, put it in their cart and cover it up with the organic tofu and soy milk.  The only person that sees it is the cashier, so they nervously tell them that it is for their grandmother, who just "loves the stuff" because she grew up during the war.

I digress.  So, Spam in hand, my next step was what to do with it. Sweet and sour Spam!  Just what I really wanted, I came to realize.  I think I saw this on a travel show once, but can't remember exactly.  The beauty is that it is really simple, and to my surprise, was very delicious indeed.  After all, isn't cooking all about creativity?  It kind of makes sense, but kind of doesn't, which usually means it has to be good.  It just shows you that you can make something out of seemingly nothing.  What's next?  Maybe Spam Parmesan from the M*A*S*H episode Too Many Cooks.