Saturday, October 20, 2007

French onion, an old classic.

French onion soup is so awesome. I had a great bowl last weekend in Santa Fe at that adorable little French cafe at the La Fonda, and have been a bit obsessed with the stuff since (I blame the hormones). I ate an entire pot - about 2 quarts - yesterday all by myself. It did take me most of the day, but I ate it and it was delicious. And even today, I still want more. So while my onions saute, I've decided to post my own simple recipe for this delicious and easy classic. The difference in quantity between the butter and the margarine is due to the water content that makes margarine spreadable, and for a rich broth extra boullion is used. Most of the ingredients are already in your kitchen, and old baguette makes the perfect garnish, as it will be rock-hard, perfect for sponging up delicious broth without turning to starchy mush.

Great easy dish for a cold day or great homemade lunch without having to run to the grocery store. This soup needs no sandwich accompaniment, and is hearty and filling as-is.

Note: I don't recommend using oil instead of butter or margarine. The butter greatly affects the rich taste of the soup, and would be drastically changed if using oil instead. If you're concerned about cholesterol, use a good quality margarine instead. Also, don't try reducing the amount of fat. The onions will be dry, burn easier, and will not become as soft. It's fatty, yes, and it's just one of those dishes that needs to be that way.

Classic French Onion Soup

2 average-sized yellow onions (about 2 1/2 inches in diameter)
1/2 c margarine or 1/3 c salted butter
6 cups hot water
7 1/2 t beef boullion granules (or 7 1/2 cubes or sachets)
sliced 3 day-old baguette
sliced Emmenthal, Jarlsberg, or other Swiss cheese

Slice onions no more than 1/4 inch thick (a mandoline makes quick work of it); melt butter in a very large saucepan and add onions. Saute on low heat for about half an hour, stirring every 5 minutes. Onions will be very limp, slightly browned, and have no crunch left when done. Add water and boullion; bring to a simmer and remove from heat. Serve into bowls, top with baguette slices (about 3 per bowl) and sliced cheese, enough to generously cover baguette. Broil or microwave bowls (make sure your dishes are oven safe if broiling) until cheese is melted. Serve, and don't forget to warn diners to be careful of very hot dishes!

Note for celiacs: substitute gluten-free baguette and make sure the boullion is gluten-free. If you cannot eat dairy use a non-dairy margarine, but I do not recommend non-dairy cheese. Instead skip the cheese and turn your baguette into buttery toasted croutons instead.

Wednesday, October 10, 2007

Irish food.

I have to declare myself disappointed in Epicurious.com's Going Global feature on Irish cooking. I have found past international features to be comprehensive and truly characteristic of a particular country's cuisine. However, their collection of "innovative and modern" Irish recipes by chef Paul Flynn sorely disappoints. There is not a single really Irish dish among them. I realize that Irish cuisine has suffered its hardships since the potato famine, but today there are a great number of cooks, both professional and otherwise, who serve up real Irish fare without all that frou-frou nonsense. And simply taking ingredients from Ireland and throwing a bunch together does not constitute Irish food.

I never thought I'd say this, but shame on you, Epicurious.

Tuesday, October 9, 2007

About tea.

One can never have too many different teas; I have well over 30, though I've lost count, and they take up an entire shelf in my large cupboard. I started to really appreciate the finer points of tea while pregnant with my daughter, now 3 - it's amazing what 9 months without a cocktail will do to you. Appreciating tea is much like appreciating fine wine and spirits. Today I came across Uncle Lee's Tea, and their gunpowder green looked too tempting to pass up.

Gunpowder is a lovely smoky loose tea; the leaves are rolled into little balls before processing (the Chinese call it pearl tea). This supposedly helps it retain better flavor than regular tea. Uncle Lee's brand of gunpowder comes in a vaccuum-sealed brick, inside a can, inside a box - an awful lot of packaging for a small bag of tea, but it makes a difference. When you open the bag it smells really fresh, almost grassy, much the way I imagine fresh tea leaves smell before processing. I've rarely come across teas this fresh, except some brought over by Chinese friends. When brewed it produces a rich golden-colored tea with delicate toasty-smoky flavors and a pleasant strong aftertaste that's not at all bitter. This is just what green tea should be, and Uncle Lee's Tea delivers a beautiful cup of mid-to-high-grade tea at a price that is very reasonable (a little over $7).

But why is green tea called green? All teas come from the leaves of the same plant (the tea plant) - but the 'color' of the tea (white, green, black) denotes the age of the leaves when picked for processing. White are the young, tender leaf buds, and their brew has a very delicate, aromatic, and never bitter flavor; green are still young and have a delicate flavor but can become bitter easily if brewed too long (low-grade greens always brew bitter teas no matter the timing); black are fully matured leaves with rich, full flavor, and make up the characteristic English and European teas such as Earl Grey. Each stage of tea leaf and type of tea is also processed differently. There is a leaf sometimes called red tea, but this is in fact not from the tea plant. It comes from an African bush called rooibos; the leaves produce a sweeter, rich tea and contain no caffiene. The more mature the tea leaf, the higher the caffiene content.


Note: White and green teas should produce golden-hued brews, so be wary of any green tea that makes green-colored tea.

Monday, October 8, 2007

45-Minute Pho (Vietnamese noodle soup)

More pregnancy cravings. I have to admit I had some pretty icky ones when pregnant with my daughter - Big Macs, anyone? This time around my tastes are considerably more refined, if a bit far-flung. I've gone through matar paneer, Creole food, and homemade butternut squash ravioli, not to mention a comprehensive culinary tour of Asia. Last night just as I was dozing off, I realized I simply had to have a hot, steaming bowl of pho. Since a dinnertime jaunt to Viet Nam (or any decent Vitenamese restaurant) was out of the question, I took an afternoon trip to my favorite market today, and spent the evening in the kitchen.

I really, really, really like soup. Any kind of soup. Even when I'm not pregnant. I think God, Siddhartha, and Mohammed all got together one day and decided to create the perfect food. And on the sixth day, there was soup, and they saw that it was good.

But what is pho? A rich beef soup with chewy rice noodles of the sort often used in Thai soups. Tasty toppings abound and include sliced beef, Thai basil, chiles, and scallions. It's traditionally eaten for breakfast or lunch, but is good hearty fare any time of day. If you've never tried Vietnamese food, this is the dish to start with. The ingredients are available pretty much anywhere, and it is not spicy and contains no really exotic or potentially offensive flavors. The traditionally Asian flavors of ginger, fish sauce, and star anise in the broth are very mild and take a backseat to rich, hearty beef. It is said that good pho broth needs to simmer at least 24 hours; Mai Pham's recipe takes only about 2 hours, and is very, very tasty. I do make it her way often enough, but if you have considerably less than 2-3 hours to put on a filling, delicious, and fairly impressive meal, try it this way:

45-Minute Pho
serves about 6

This recipe is gluten-free, but I know you celiacs know to check your stock and fish sauce labels just to be safe.

3 quarts good quality beef stock, broth, or boullion
2 3-inch pieces of ginger root, halved lengthwise and then cut into 1-inch chunks
8 star anise pods, toasted
5 whole cloves, toasted
1 pound of top sirloin, frozen
1 16-ounce package of rice stick noodles (the narrow, linguine-sized variety)

TOPPINGS (use any or all, more is better):
4-6 baby bok choy, leafy parts only, sliced
6 whole Thai chiles, sliced into thin rings
8-10 sprigs of Thai basil, leaves torn
3 scallions, finely sliced
1 pound bean sprouts
1/3 cup chopped cilantro
1 lime, cut into 6 wedges
hoisin or plum sauce
Sriracha (hot chile sauce)

Combine broth, ginger, and half of the sirloin (in one whole piece) in a stock pot and bring to a boil. Boil 5 minutes, skimming off any foam or impurities from the beef. Tie the star anise and cloves into a spice bag (or cheesecloth or muslin) and add to the stock. Simmer 40 minutes, covered, occasionally skimming if needed. Place noodles in lukewarm water and soak for 30 minutes. Slice the other half of the frozen sirloin into paper-thin slices with a very sharp knife and set aside to thaw. Other toppings can be prepared while noodles soak and broth simmers. Arrange toppings for serving; they look very pretty in piles on a large serving platter (except for the sauces).

When noodles are done soaking, heat your soup bowls by filling them with boiling water left in until serving time. Keep broth simmering through the last steps. Remove sirloin from simmering broth and cut into paper-thin slices and set aside with the raw beef. Bring 2-3 quarts of water to a boil in a large pot, enough to immerse noodles in. Once boiling, toss noodles in and cook very quickly, usually only 30 seconds or so, until cooked but still chewy. Drain noodles and empty water from bowls; divide steaming noodles into bowls and top with cooked and raw beef slices. Ladle on simmering broth and serve. Add any desired toppings at the table.


How to (traditionally) eat pho: Toppings, as many as you like, go anywhere on top, but sauces go to one side or the other of the bowl. Use chopsticks for the noodles and a Chinese spoon for the broth. Alternate between bites of noodles and toppings, and sips of soup. If you're totally hopeless with chopsticks you can use a fork, but don't twirl your noodles up like an Italian. In Viet Nam, good manners dictate that you slurp them from the bowl.

A note on chiles and basil: If you can't find fresh Thai (or 'bird') chiles, the dried ones will do. To use these, trim off both ends, rinse the inside to remove as many seeds as possible, and then soak in warm water for 30-45 minutes. For the basil, don't substitute common sweet basil for Thai (also called holy basil). You can substitute mint instead, or leave it out altogether.