Words’ End

Well, the photos get a resounding vote of “enh” from me. They’re just uninspiring. You had to be there, if nothing else then for the olfactory paradise of chopped herbs and ground spices.

N.B.: if you’re a staunch vegetarian who is nauseated by the discussion of preparing meat, you might want to skip the rest of this post.

I’ve got to say, thinking that I could easily cut up a whole duck, just because I know fairly well how to do the same thing with chicken, was erroneous. Duck skin is rather more strongly attached than chicken skin is; plus, I couldn’t figure out how to partition it. Ethan’s googling powers saved me, of course; what I’d failed to understand is that the duck is both more fatty *and* more bony on its back than chicken. So I decided to save some of the bonier parts for a soup (to be made tomorrow) and soon I had three containers. The contents of one of them will be rendered, and will make for a good cooking medium for potatoes, fish, what have you.

I’ve got to say, I’m pretty proud of myself for not throwing away any part of the bird, which had admittedly been cleaned before they sold it to me. Its meat is providing us with two meals each, and we’ll have soup and cooking fat besides. Not bad, for a generally wasteful world.

So, here’s the recipe I made. It comes from Alexandra Greeley’s Asian Soups, Stews, & Curries, which I really must return to Mrs. Zogathon someday soon. Next time I make this, I’ll use more ginger, galangal and lemongrass, and will add some fresh chili peppers. This was surprisingly mild.

If you don’t know where to get certain ingredients, check to see if you have an Indian and/or Southeast Asian grocery store nearby. You can always resort to places like Whole Foods, but their herbs are both expensive and not as good. Also, for the love of all that’s holy, don’t use the Thai Kitchen brand of coconut milk. Use Chaokoh instead. Have four cups of it on hand.

Get a 4- to 5-pound duck, clean it and cut into serving pieces (or you could just get duck legs, I guess).

Prepare your herbs and spices. Throw all of the following in one bowl:

     1 stalk lemon grass, trimmed and thinly sliced;

     shred 3 kaffir lime leaves;

     one 1″ piece fresh ginger, peeled and chopped;

     two Indonesian bay leaves, crumbled (I used regular Western bay leaves);

     1 tsp’s worth of galangal root, minced;

     1 tsp ground coriander;

     1 tsp freshly ground black pepper;

     1/2 tsp ground cumin;

     1/4 tsp ground turmeric;

     salt and sugar to taste.

Take 8 shallots and 4 garlic cloves, peeled and rouhly chopped. Put them in a blender or small chopper, add just enough water to process, and blend until smooth. This she calls “curry paste,” why, I don’t know.

Heat 1/3 cup of vegetable oil over medium-high heat. Add the onion-and-garlic paste and stir around for 2-3 minutes, until it’s fragrant. Add all the other spices, stir well and cook for about 5 minutes. That’s what she says, anyway; I cooked for about 7-8. Add a bit more oil if the mixture is too dry.

Add in the duck pieces, and make sure they’re thoroughly coated in the spices. Pour in the coconut milk (mix it up first if it’s separated; it’ll be hard to mix with all that meat in the pan). Reduce heat and simmer, stirring occasionally, for 1.5-2 hours. If the sauce gets too thick and/or shallow, add some water. For garnish, fry up some shallots and/or garlic until crunchy. Honestly, I skipped that last part.

Mmm, tasty. Do make some sticky rice to sop up all the saucy goodness. Make sure you stir the sauce before spooning it onto the rice; some of the herbs and roots stay crunchy, and in every tender bite there’s a little explosion of flavor.

In other news, my Italian class did marvelously well on their exam, all things considered. (They are a good and genial group, but this class is their very lowest priority. We do what we can!) The average grade was 7.5 percentage points higher than the average quiz grade! I’m duly impressed, and they seemed pleased too. We did the simple past today, their first Really Tough Topic, and they did well. I dare say I’m proud! And to think that I’ll have children someday. If that’s how it’s gonna be, at least sometimes, then I’m all for having children. Because, you know, I need convincing to have children.

G’night. Let me know if you make the duck; I’d be curious to find subtle but tasty variations.

We arose rather atrociously late today – 11am; not bad, though, for a Saturday, especially considering we didn’t go to sleep until 3:30 last night. After extremely minimal puttering, a bank errand was run, and then we went food shopping. Since it’s now rather late in the day, the cooking-for-the-week extravaganza has been deferred until tomorrow; but I’m already excited. Besides our usual (already rather eclectic) array of food, we got the following, which I’ve never cooked with before:

duck
galangal root
fresh lemongrass
kaffir lime leaves
some other sort of leaves that should be good fresh, don’t know the name
an array of curry pastes:
     red (a laaaarge tub!)
     masaman and leang (small tins)
thai peanut noodle sauce
msg (to be used as a seasoning in judicious amounts)
fresh young coconut to shred

Artichokes are coming into season, too. They had gorgeous, huge ones at Whole Foods. So we got two, and they’re enough for a lunch, steamed and with a dipping sauce.

Photos, I hope, tomorrow. It is spring outside.

Subtitle of the cookbook, translated: Recipes, ideas, advice for the modern woman. Subtitle notwithstanding, this cookbook (purchased in 1995 in Padova, on clearance for something like $10) is one of my favorites. Practical cuisine, indeed; tasty dishes of varying complexity. The following measures were eyeballed all to hell.

Take five medium-sized zucchini. Wash them, trim the ends and lovingly cut into thin (3-5mm) circles. Set aside. Mince a good handful of fresh parsley, and set that aside too.

Heat up a large frying pan; a wok would work too, but probably not quite as well. In 1-2 tablespoons of olive oil and 1-2 tablespoons of butter (no less than 3 tbsp of fats), fry up 3-5 cloves of sliced – not mashed – garlic, and a round slice of a Mayer lemon cut up in eighths like a tiny pie. Fry that until the garlic and lemon are done, then fish them out of the oil-and-butter and set them aside.

Toss in the zucchini and coat in the sauce. Cover and steam-fry for a minute or two, just to get them sweating. Take off the cover and toss in some salt, freshly ground pepper and a little of the parsley. Toss well and keep stirring occasionally until the zucchini are done to your liking. Don’t worry if they get mushy; keep frying them, and eventually they’ll turn this amazing crusty brown.

While waiting for the veggies to fry, cut another piece off the lemon and squeeze its juice into the cooked garlic and lemon. At the end, toss in that mixture and the rest of the parsley, and fry on high heat just until the parsley is heated through.

Eat as a side dish with your burger, or with anything really. Then, when it’s summer and parsley actually has a scent, cook this again and allow the green trance to overtake your kitchen.

“Okay, let’s see what this recipe says.”

   ”Well, we’re gonna need the cauliflower in florets, right? I’ll do that. Hey, we don’t have ghee. Oh, you’re using butter.”

“Right! And in the butter goes – guess.”

   ”Let’s see. Cumin seeds!”

“Right! And?”

   ”Uh. Turmeric!”

“Yes! Aaaand?”

   Ginger and chilis. How could I have forgotten.

…

   ”It’s fizzly.”

“It says the rice and mung beans need seven cups of water, but I think it’s on crack.”

Discussion ensues as to whether the water should be cold or hot. Warm wins, and the rest is eyeballed. Rice and tiny yellow half-moon moong bean halves are cooked in more butter and spices, pre-browned cauliflower and some frozen peas thrown in and the heat cranked. The fragrant result, created between readings about an equine Roland (who also, as it turns out, dies), is tasty.

It’s International Women’s Day. Happy 8th of March!

Despite the lack of updates, it’s been an eventful month. I gave a talk at a brown-bag seminar at, well, Brown; and it went remarkably well. Ethan moved here from Seattle, which consumed us logistically for a week or two but, oh, is worth it. Both my work and my personal well-being are much improved.

Entirely selfishly, I am giddy to have access to both a ricemaker and a breadmaker now. Oh, and a wok. These implements of culinary creation, coupled with finding a couple of excellent Southeast Asian markets around Providence, have rather shaken up my daily diet in the best of ways. Incidentally, as long as you stay away from Thai Kitchen brand anything, I cannot recommend mamster’s Thai curry highly enough. Actually, here: take a look at his other food writings. They are as amusing as they’re informative.

E. and I have successfully (“victory!!”) collaborated on writing a paper abstract, which was submitted too late to be considered for a conference session, but we’ll find a venue for it. We continue to talk about the logistics of Roland^HT and I am hopeful for the project, if a little frustrated by not dedicating quite enough time to it. This last one should improve now that the exciting double-appointment, Italian-and-Comp-Lit faculty search is over. Amongst the applicants are a couple of really excellent women, and I fervently hope that one of them will join us.

I have begun to teach Italian to RISD students. They’re a trip, complete sweethearts, and that priceless combination of razor-sharp and willing to throw themselves into conversation in a language they barely know. It’s a really fun gig, and although it’s technically a distraction from what I should be doing (*cough* dissertation *cough*), it’s actually great for my own morale.

Tomorrow evening, I go in for a sleep study. That’s exciting! Perhaps we’ll find out why I become sleepy, regardless of how rested I am, if I sit in one place for too long. Becomes a bit of a problem when spending long hours at a computer, or, say, driving to Boston…

The weather had been improving until the weekend. Saturday it rained and rained; Sunday it was sunny and gorgeous; and today, it is snowing again. But the days, they are getting longer; and my mood is definitively on an upswing. We’re full of activity over here. I keep noticing little things and mentally filing them in the “to blog” category, and… well, you know.

Earlier this morning, right around 6:30, a skunk waddled across our neighbors’ backyard. It was light already, so either it spaced on the whole hide-in-daylight thing, or it was rabid. Cute.

Oh, it is nice to know foody people. Witness:

Sautée some onions, carrots and leeks in butter. Add a hambone* and the already soaked white beans (3 cups dried) to that, and 7 cups of chicken stock. Cook forever. Take out the bone, and purée. Add 1 cup cream. Consistency of soup should be that of heavy cream. Put some freshly minced parsley in at the end.

* or smoked pork hoc, or sautée up some pancetta together with the initial veggies.

Excellent, excellent. The only thing I added was a bunch of pepper; and could’ve probably used a bit more salt, but watch out: the ham might provide quite enough salt on its own. What a marvelous, simple cold-weather soup. Crusty bread with it, mmm.

How many carrots/leaks/onions? Hell if I know. Eyeballed it, putting in one huge chopped carrot, half a thick stalk of leek and half an onion, the latter without cutting it. I wasn’t sure about the amount of the onion family in the soup, and rather dislike soups that are too onion-y. So ended up taking the regular onion out at the end. In retrospect, could’ve probably put in a bit more leek; I think I like the smoky-mild taste of it, sautéed. The large half-Spanish-onion was just right. The cream I put in was light, and heavy might have just overdone it, for once. The final dish is gorgeous and velvety, with its Great Northern bean and real chicken broth base.

(Yeah, I made real chicken broth, as Whole Foods had chicken bones and I’m huddling at home as much as I can in this cold. Hopefully, this time I’ll actually freeze some of the broth to use later. Simple! Chicken, potato, onion, carrot, parsnip, Vegeta, parsley. Simmer. Don’t forget to take off the foam after the meat simmers a while, or it won’t be clear.)

The local Indian grocer calls me “madam.” He pronounces it the way the French do, ma dame. He sells tiny zip-locked plastic baggies of cardamom and wildly purple tiny aubergines. Shriveled-looking pomegranates, obviously intended for cooking, inhabit the middle-left produce shelf near the refrigerator full of Indian TV dinners and exotic juices. Against the wall are ghee, coconut milk and spices of every shade; across the room are incense, henna and other non-edibles. He’ll sell you chopped fish frozen in blocks of ice, cheap; product of Indonesia.

Today, three young men jovially burst in and chattered animatedly in what must’ve been Hindi, glancing around the store with casual interest. Suddenly, one of them turned to the seller and asked: “How much for a whole lamb?,” almost immediately adding: “I can see you’re excited, I know – so how much?”

As my debit card transaction was going through, I learned that a 23-24 pound lamb is likely to cost about $85.

Entry number 101 feels like Food 101: I can’t believe I haven’t yet raved about Clotilde’s weblog. Her relationship to food makes me swoon, and I want to try ALL of her recipes right NOW.

Cooking is one of my most beloved activities. It is, largely, how I relate to people. Why don’t I blog more about things I make?

Friend came over today, for dinner-making and conversation. Marvelous evening, all told, complete with some culinary experimentation. I often make things I’ve never made before, either from interesting-sounding recipes, or from my head. The two of us put our heads together to come up with the below-described seafood dish; the soup is from my Mediterranean cookbook, easily the best volume on my cookbook shelf.

Zucchini soup. Mm-mm. Who would’ve thought to put dolcelatte (or, in my case, sweet gorgonzola) into a pureed soup? Not me, not just now. But oh, what fragrance. Fry up a medium-sized Spanish onion in some oil and butter until soft. Add 2 lbs. zucchini, some salt and pepper, and a teaspoon – they say – of dried oregano. (I used a bit more than a teaspoon, and my oregano was ground.) Stir around to soften, for about 10 minutes. Add 2.5 cups of vegetable stock (mine was mixed 3/4 veg, 1/4 tasty mushroom bouillon), bring to a boil, then simmer slowly for about 30 minutes.

Phase two. Add 4 oz. of crumbled dolcelatte and stir until it’s melted. Blend in a food processor, the recipe admonishes, and strain back into the pot through a sieve. I personally used my trusty hand blender, and did not strain. This may have left it coarser than the original chefs intended, but gave it a wonderful character and made it more interesting to eat, lingering on the texture. Add between 2/3 and 3/4 cup light cream. (Another substitution – I used up my last packet of thick Italian panna and diluted it with 2% milk. What?! It was what I had! Plus, it’s tasty; plus, it’s Parmalat and thus makes me nostalgic.) Stir, taste and adjust for seasonings, heat back up until hot but not boiling, stirring all the while. Serve with some freshly ground black pepper and more swirled-in cream. And fresh oregano on top, if you’ve got it. Oh, and crusty, well-made (but not strongly flavored) bread.

So that was the modified-recipe mode. Improvisational mode kicked in when we turned our attention to the 1-lb packet of frozen seafood I’d defrosted but had no specific plans for. C. and I came up with the following, rooting through the cupboards.

(Incidentally, I *heart* those ever-more-frequent moments when I can root through my cupboards and find interesting things with which to improvise.)

Fry up some shallots, a yellow pepper and shiitake-like dried mushrooms, soaked in some more of that broth we’d used for the soup. Butter and olive oil serve as the fat base, and we added some lemon as well. When the veggies are nicely browned but still retain their dignity, throw in the defrosted seafood (which, in this case, consisted of tiny shrimps, many baby octopi, ringlets of squid and pieces of clam). I seasoned with a very little bit of cayene, and significantly more white pepper. Saute until done, Do Not Overcook or the seafood will toughen. Add a little more of the broth, if need be; it’s much better to boil off a little excess liquid than have dried-up dish. Serve with ground black pepper on top.

Coffee and decadent dark chocolate with orange, later. My inner child is delighted.

I keep having to re-learn this lesson: I am not capable of being efficiently productive with stationary (computer) work, if I am hungry. I’ll get things done, but it will take a lot longer.

Tasks that require me to move – walking from point A to point B, [non-food] shopping – are not affected by this, within reasonable limits. Neither, for the most part, are stationary tasks that happen mostly on autopilot, like driving.