Sunday, September 7, 2008

Brunch with the Foodies

Hey, do you like brunch? Yeah, I thought so. Check out my latest post on D.C. Foodies.

Monday, September 1, 2008

Great shrimp, so-so recipe

I am about to complain about a meal I thoroughly enjoyed.
Does that mean I've reached a higher level of bitching? Am I a philosopher king of whining?
Don't know, but I do wish I liked my meal more than I did.
The other day, the missus spotted head-on Gulf shrimp at the grocery store. Although I didn't know what to do with them at that moment, we bought a pound with the understanding that they'd end up on the grill.
We settled on a recipe from "Grilled to Perfection," the cookbook from the folks behind License to Grill, one of the best grilling shows on TV.
So far so good, right?
Not wanting to work too hard, we went with the gin-marinated grilled shrimp recipe. I substituted mint for cilantro and kept the heads and shells on the shrimp, but otherwise followed the recipe.
The result: great grilled shrimp ... that tasted nothing like gin. It didn't taste like any of the other marinade ingredients either.
Like I said, though, the shrimp were great. Of course, they would've been great without the marinade and I wouldn't be out a 1/2 cup of my favorite gin.
I appreciate subtle flavors as much, if not more, than the next guy. But in this case, the marinade's flavors weren't subtle, they were lost.

Gin-marinaded grilled shrimp
(From "Grilled to Perfection" by Chris Knight and Tyler J. Smith)

20 medium-sized shrimp, peeled and deveined
1/2 cup vegetable oil
1/2 cup gin
1/2 cup cilantro, chopped
1/3 cup chopped onion
1 tbsp. garlic, minced

Place the shrimp in a large sealable plastic bag. Mix together the remaining ingredients in a bowl and pour into the bag over the shrimp. Toss to coat well and refrigerate for no more than 30 minutes.

Preheat the grill to high -- 400F.
Remove the shrimp from the marinade. Season with salt to taste. Place the shrimp on the grill and cook until they are no longer translucent on one side, approximately 1-2 minutes.

Turn and continue to cook for another minute or two until slightly golden brown and cooked through.

Crappy drink or complete abomination?

I've spent the past week working on other projects, so Gastronomy has languished.
However, I was shaken into action (too much?).
Wandering through the grocery store the other day I came across the most horrible of sights: a sixer of mojitos.
Not since discovering premade rum and coke in a can have I seen such a grotesque intersection of American ingenuity and laziness. The Captain Morgan rum and cola can got a pass because soda already comes in can, so the addition of rum wasn't that big of a deal or that far of a stretch.
But the mojito is different. Not only is the mojito a classic summer beverage, but it's a four-ingredient cocktail that's dead simple to make.
Apparently, though, the fine folks at Captain Morgan decided combining rum, mint, sugar and lime is too complicated for the gap-mouthed American public. So they did it for us.
You know, it's not even the crappy drink that makes me angry. It's the fact that I know thousands upon thousands of Americans will buy it. And why not? We already buy gallons of margarita mixers and vats of premade bloody mary mix, why wouldn't we buy the whole cocktail premade?
After all, we're the country that invented fast food and microwave dinners. We've cut so many culinary corners that we're in danger of forgetting what we were working with in the first place.
Don't misunderstand me, I'm not suggesting that you gotta slave over every meal you cook and every cocktail you mix. But when something is already simple, why screw with it?
Case in point: the other night a few "friends" picked up a six pack of Bud Light with lime knowing the mere sight of it would send me into a frothing rant (note to friends: you can't complain about the rants if you instigate them). As if on cue, I started ranting as soon as I spotted the "beer."
Trying the beer didn't help. Now, I like a slice of lime in my Mexican beer as much as the next guy, but this crap tasted like a chemistry accident. Suffice it to say that Bud Lite with lime won't cure scurvy.
So please people, stop supporting these ideas. Just because something is easy doesn't mean it's good.

A real mojito

2 tbs. simple syrup
4 sprigs of fresh mint
1 lime halved
3 oz. of rum

Drop three sprigs of mint into the bottom of a glass, squeeze half the lime and muddle until the mint is throughly bruised. Add the simple syrup, rum, juice from the other half of the lime and fill the glass half full of ice. Mix the ingredients throughly. Place the final mint sprig in the glass and top off with ice.
Salud!

Sunday, August 24, 2008

Joining the Foodies


Hey, I've started writing about grilling for a D.C. area blog site, DCFoodies.com. Check out my inaugural post on grilled Cornish hens and spicy corn salad at D.C. Foodies.

Gin vs. Vodka: The grudge match

I'm a gin guy.
It's flavorful. It's clean. Churchill liked it. It's a quality liquor.
My buddy Tim is a vodka guy (closet communist).
It's flavorless. It's boring. It's the liquor of choice for brutal Soviet dictators and the cast of "Sex and the City."
But who am I to criticize another man's liquor? When that "man" insists on ordering vodka martinis.
The martini is my drink. Ice cold with a lemon twist, it just doesn't get any better.
It does, however, get much worse when you insist on subing out the gin for vodka. That's effectively saying, "Hey, I hate flavor!"
So, after going around and around about the merits of the true martini verses the vodka martini, Tim and I agreed to hold a tasting. My favorite gin verses his favorite vodka. The goal being to convince each other of the virtues of our spirits.
Well, it worked.
I really am surprised. I've had my fair share of vodka and never really thought much of it. Tim's had gin. Good gin. Hendrick's gin. And yet, he's not thought much of it.
To change his mind, I brought a bottle of Plymouth gin. Distilled and bottled in the English port town the pilgrims launched from lo those many years ago. It's the best gin I've ever had.
Tim brought Tito's Handmade Vodka, produced in of all places Austin, Texas.
Yee haw.
He also offered up a bottle of Chopin Polish vodka. He should have gone solo with Tito.
To show off the qualities of the gin and vodka, we did a straight tasting and made a couple cocktails. Tim made a caipiroska. I made a martini and a gin and bitters.
I gotta admit, Tito makes a quality vodka. It's smooth and rich. I enjoyed it as much straight as I did in the caipiroska.
The Chopin tasted like alcohol.
In turn, Tim really digged the Plymouth gin (no surprise there).
The tasting availed him to the slightly sweet, herbal qualities that make gin such a pleasant spirit. The gin and bitters (made with Regan's Orange Bitters) was just a popular.
The martini, however, wasn't to his taste.
Commie.

Martini
3 oz. of Plymouth gin
1 tsp. dry vermouth
lemon twist

Fill a shaker half full with ice and add the dry vermouth. Stir and vermouth to coat the ice cubes and strain the excess. Add the gin, stir and pour into a chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with the lemon twist.

Gin and bitters
3 oz. of Plymouth gin
4 shakes of bitters (preferably, Regan's Orange Bitters)

Add the bitters to the cocktail glass. Swirl the bitters to coat the sides of the glass and pour out the excess. Pour the gin and enjoy.


Caipiroska
1 lime
1 tsp. sugar

Wash the lime and cut it into quarters. Muddle the sugar and limes in the glass. Add ice and vodka, stir and serve.

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

Exploring the wonderously versatile wok

My latest column in Wednesday's Times-News.

From frying and steaming to boiling, the versatile wok can do it all

Drew Long

A few months ago, a reader e-mailed me and asked if I planned to write a column on wok cooking.
The thought had crossed my mind. I like woks and my wife is fascinated by them. The iconic Asian cooking tool is as simple as it is versatile.
When most of us think about the wok, we think about stir-frying. However, the wok can do much more than that. Think boiling, poaching, steaming, deep-frying and smoking.
Six cooking techniques with one pan. Now that's versatility.
So with Michael Phelps and the U.S. Olympic team amassing medals in Beijing, I figured now is the perfect time to break out my wok.
The big drawback to wok cooking is our stoves are not set up for it. Our flat stove tops don't heat woks all that well. Asian restaurants use wok stoves, which have wok-shaped holes in the stove tops that snugly fit the pan's conical shape and heat more of its surface area. Home cooks in Asia who don't have a wok stove use a wok ring that fits over electric and gas burners to accommodate the pan.
In her excellent book on wok cooking, "The Breath of a Wok,'' author Grace Young offers a few tips on cooking with a wok on a typical American stove. When stir-frying, Young advises cooking with high heat -- an unusual and unsettling method for American cooks -- and preparing the meat and vegetable separately.
Beginning with the meat, make sure not to crowd the wok. Doing so, Young warns, will drop the temperature of the wok and prevent searing. Also, don't cook more than 12 ounces of meat at a time.
With vegetables, Young limits portions to 4 cups at a time.
The idea behind stir-frying in a wok is speed. Meat and vegetables are cut into small portions so they cook fast over a very high heat.
Because everything is quick, you have to be ready to cook. That means the vegetables are cut up, the seasoning is on the counter and preferably portioned out, the meat has been prepped and you have dishes waiting to receive the food as soon as it's done -- all this before you begin heating the wok.
As I said, woks aren't limited to stir-frying. When I mentioned to my friend Xiaoyi (sh-OW-yee) that I was writing a column on wok cooking, she told me about saltwater chicken, a steamed dish her mom taught her.
Steaming, as it turns out, is as common in Chinese cooking as frying. Xiaoyi, who grew up in Shanghai before moving with her family to Boston, said cooking oil was expensive, so home cooks often steamed their meals. Although cooking oil is no longer a luxury, steaming remains a staple in her family's home.
The technique is quite a bit different than stir-frying, but just as efficient. When steaming, the meat and vegetables are cooked in a bowl set inside a covered wok. Saltwater chicken, one of many Chinese recipes that utilize steaming, is a one-pot dish that can be done in 45 minutes.
Admittedly, when Xiaoyi told me about the recipe, I was worried that at best it would be wet and bland. At worst, it would be undercooked.
Luckily I was bright enough to trust Xiaoyi.
The chicken comes out perfectly moist and subtly flavored by the salt, ginger and scallions. It's a delicate dish that proves limited means don't limit culinary ingenuity.
Behind my kitchen cabinet doors is a battery of frying pans, stock pots, sauce pots, grill pans, roasting pans and one wok -- which can do the work of all of them.

Xiaoyi's Saltwater Chicken

4 pieces of chicken (2 legs, 2 thighs)
6 scallions, diced
1 piece of ginger (at least 2 inches long), julienned (cut into match sticks)
Salt to taste
1 tablespoon rice wine (dry sherry and sake can be used as substitutes)

The day before, dice the scallions, peel and julienne the ginger, and season the chicken with the salt. Combine the chicken, scallions and ginger in a Zip-lock bag and put in the refrigerator to marinate over night.

Remove the chicken from the refrigerator 30 minutes before you begin cooking so it can lose some of its chill. Place the steaming rack in the wok and fill the bottom with water, but not enough to touch the rack. Place the chicken and half the scallions and ginger into a bowl and place on the steaming rack.

Cover the wok with a lid (I used aluminum foil) and turn the stove on high. When the water is boiling, reduce to simmer and cook for 45 minutes. To make sure the chicken is fully cooked, use a meat thermometer (180 degrees F.) or pierce the meat and see if the juices run clear. If they do, the chicken is ready.

Remove the chicken from the wok, discard the skin and strip the meat off the bone. Serve the chicken, scallions and ginger over rice, ladling on top some of the rich juice that collected in the bowl the chicken cooked in.
Makes 2 servings.


Jean Yueh's Shanghai-Style Shrimp

(Source: From Grace Young's "The Breath of a Wok'')
1 pound large shrimp
3½ tablespoons soy sauce
1 teaspoons red wine vinegar
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
3 slices ginger
2 scallions cut into 2-inch pieces
1 tablespoon dry sherry
3 tablespoons sugar or to taste
1 tablespoon sesame oil (optional)

Using kitchen shears, cut through the shrimp shells two-thirds of the length down the back of the shrimp. Remove the legs and devein the shrimp, leaving the shells and tails on. Rinse the unpeeled shrimp, drain and set on several sheets of paper towels. With more paper towels, pat the shrimp dry. In a small bowl, combine the soy sauce and vinegar.

Heat a 14-inch, flat-bottomed wok over high heat until a bead of water vaporizes within 1 to 2 seconds of contact. Swirl in the vegetable oil, add the ginger and scallions, and stir-fry 30 seconds or until aromatic.
Add the shrimp and stir-fry 30 seconds. Add the sherry and stir-fry a few seconds. Swirl in the soy sauce mixture and sprinkle in the sugar. Stir-fry the shrimp 1 to 2 minutes or until the sauce is distributed and the shrimp are just cooked. Remove from the heat.

Stir in the sesame oil, if desired. Serve immediately or at room temperature. Makes 4 servings as part of a multicourse meal.

Sunday, August 17, 2008

On the lamb

There's a layer of fat between the meat and the bone.
After an hour on the grill, that layer of fat becomes soft and succulent, keeping the meat on the lamb rib incredibly moist. When your teeth bite into the rib, separating meat from bone, your mouth is the first to discover the delicious fatty secret. You pause -- briefly -- to figure out this unctuous find. You stare at it hungrily and it winks back.
Oh my God, those were good ribs.
It's rare that I have one of those surprise moments with food. Sure, I've had great meals in great restaurants and at friends' homes. But this wasn't a matter of manipulation. This wasn't a great recipe (though the marinade I put on the ribs was pretty good), it was completely natural.
That layer of fat is between the meat and bone of every rack of lamb ribs that ever was and will ever be.
So why was this the first time I've had lamb ribs? Before I bought them on sale a while back, I didn't know there was any such thing as lamb ribs. I figured I'd get a bit of meat off them, but little else. But what the hell, they were on sale.
On Saturday, the missus and I threw a little welcome home party for a friend and I decided to chuck the ribs on the grill with a butterflied lamb leg.
It was a good party.
For the lamb leg, I used a South African recipe from Steven Raichlen's opus, The Barbecue! Bible. (If you own a grill, you should own this book. I own a few grilling and barbecuing cookbooks. I use Raichlen's all the time.)
For the ribs -- oh, those ribs -- I did a slight variation on the traditional rosemary and garlic recipe by adding crushed red pepper flakes to the marinade.
Judging by the sounds coming from around the table, both dishes turned out well, but the lamb ribs were a fantastic surprise.
To be sure, the pig remains the undisputed king of animals when it comes to most quality cuts from a single animal. But after Saturday's rib revelation, the lamb is making a mighty strong push for the title.

Lamb ribs

2 racks of lamb ribs
1 tbs. garlic powder (or 4 garlic cloves, minced)
1 tbs. crushed red pepper flakes
2 tbs. rosemary
3 tbs. olive oil
Salt and pepper to taste

Capetown Lamb
(From Steven Raichlen's The Barbecue! Bible)

For the lamb
1 bone-in leg of lamb (6 to 8 lbs), trimmed of papery skin
6 cloves of garlic, cut into thin slivers
6 thin slices fresh ginger, cut into thin slivers

For the glaze
1/4 cup Worcestershire sauce
1/4 cup soy sauce
1/4 cup firmly packed brown sugar
3 tbs. Dijon mustard
2 tbs. hot Chinese-style mustard or 1 tbs. dry mustard
3 tbs. fresh lemon juice
3 tbs. vegetable oil
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 tbs. minced fresh ginger
Salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste

Lamb ribs:

The night before cover the ribs with olive oil and add the seasoning, making sure to rub it into the meat. The next day, pull the ribs out of the refrigerator 30 minutes before you're ready to grill.

Put the ribs on the grill directly over the heat, meat side down. Cook for 8 minutes, watching for flare ups. Turn the ribs over and cook for another 8 minutes. Move to a cooler side of the grill and cook for another 30 minutes.

Remove from the grill and let rest for 5 minutes before eating. I served the ribs with tzatziki sauce for dipping, but it wasn't really necessary.

Capetown Lamb:

Using the tip of a sharp paring knife, make slits about an inch deep all over the surface of the lamb, spacing them about an inch apart. Insert a sliver each of garlic and ginger into each slit. Place the lamb in a non-reactive roasting pan and set aside while you prepare the glaze.

Combine the Worcestershire sauce, soy sauce, sugar, both the mustards, lemon juice, oil, garlic and ginger in a small heavy saucepan and bring to a boil over medium heat, stirring to dissolve the sugar. Cook until thick and syrupy, about 3 minutes. Remove from the heat and taste for seasoning, adding salt and pepper as necessary. Let cool to room temperature. Pour half the cooled glaze over the lamb in the roasting pan, brushing to coat on all sides. Cover and let marinate, in the refrigerator, for 3 to 8 hours (the longer the better).
Set up the grill for indirect grilling, placing a large drip pan in the center and preheat to medium. When ready to cook, place the lamb on the hot grate over the drip pan and brush with more glaze. Cover the grill and cook the lamb until done to taste, 2 to 2-1/2 hours; an instant-read meat thermometer inserted n the thickest part of the leg (but not touching the bone) will register 160°F for medium. Brush the leg with glaze two or three times during cooking. If using a charcoal grill, add 10 to 12 fresh coals per side every hour.

Transfer the lamb to a cutting board and brush one last time with glaze, then let stand for 10 minutes before carving. While the lamb stands, heat any remaining glaze to serve as a sauce with the lamb.