Pesto! Change-O!

As the weather turns warmer, I start to think about pesto. (No, seriously I do… Remember? I’m a total dork when it comes to food thoughts.) Traditionally, pesto is basil and pine nuts pureed with a bit of Parm, a bit of garlic, and a ton of olive oil. I think pesto during the summer because fresh basil from the garden makes the best pesto. Because it keeps well in the freezer, you can make a huge batch and then just thaw when ready to toss with pasta or spread on bread for impromptu appetizers or late night snacking. (Yes, I snack on pesto… don’t judge.)

Pesto, like most things culinary, is all about the ratio. And, once you know that, you can tinker with the ingredients. Some may disagree, but I find that this works well:

• 4 C herbs or greens, loosely packed
• ½ – ¾ C cheese, grated
• ⅓ C nuts, toasted
• 2 cloves garlic
• Salt, pepper, and sometimes a squeeze of lemon or grated lemon peel
• ½ – ¾ C extra virgin olive oil

To make the pesto, put all of the ingredients except for the oil in a food processor and chop them up. Then, while the processor is still running, slowly pour the olive oil in until the pesto is a lovely emulsified mess. That’s it. Pretty easy, right? This keeps for about a week or so in the fridge. If you’re storing in the freezer, put into an airtight container and pour a bit of olive oil on the top before sealing the lid. (This will prevent the pesto from turning a weird brown.)

The main thing with pesto is to use a high quality olive oil. So much of the taste is in the oil, you really can tell if you’re being a cheap ass. Fresh herbs and fresh cheese are also essential. You can still make a darn fine pesto with herbs from the grocery, but if you love it… why not just plant some basil in a pot? Also, buy a good brick of cheese and grate it yourself. Pre-grated cheese just won’t work. You’re going to need a hard, dry cheese. (Cheddar has too much liquid to stand up against the processing.)

Although it seems like an extra step, don’t skip out on toasting or roasting whatever nut you decide to use. It enhances the flavor of the nut and makes your final pesto taste less “raw.” You can roast the nuts in the oven or on the stove top. (I find the stove is the quickest, but you need to constantly stir or shake the pan to avoid burning your nuts… Mind out of the gutter, dirty birdie!)

If you’ve never made pesto before, I suggest you try it with the traditional basil, pine nuts, and Parmigiano Reggiano cheese. Work on getting the consistency down before playing around. You don’t want garlic basil soup on your hands.

But, if you’ve done pesto even once or twice, you should be all set. Some combinations that I like:

• Half basil and half arugula instead of all basil. The arugula adds a bit of depth. (Thank you epicurious.com.)
• Kale or spinach and walnuts. If you’re going to use any hearty greens, I suggest parboiling them first. Just dunk them in boiling, salted water for 30 seconds or so and rinse under cold water. Make sure you drain them well and remove any of the tough center stems. Your finished product should equal the needed 4 cups. So, you’ll probably need to start out with 10-12 cups of greens as wilting will dramatically decrease your volume.
• Mint and almonds. You’ll end up with a nice Moroccan flavor.
• Unsalted pistachios or cashews rather than pine nuts
• Parsley and cilantro also make fine pestos. Just be careful with the cilantro. You should probably cut it with arugula or parsley because the taste can be overwhelming. I’d also suggest using lime instead of the lemon juice to give it a bit of a Mexican flavor.

Any type of pesto you create should be served at room temperature (or over warm pasta). Cold pesto tastes oddly slick on the mouth. Here’s a kale and walnut pesto I made recently. Fabulous way to get more veggies in diets of people not used to eating greenery (ahem, Paul). I saved a few chopped, roasted walnuts to sprinkle on the top before serving.

German Food, from a Real German

One of the benefits of working for a multinational company is that you have multinational coworkers. Although you may never meet them face-to-face, you get to know them through conference calls, emails, and the magic of Facebook.

My colleagues know that I like to cook and will share recipes with me. This past week, I finally got around to making my coworker’s schnitzel and potato salad recipes. They’re authentic German dishes because they came from a German person… living in Germany… because that’s where she was born and raised. So, if you tell me that the potato salad isn’t authentic because it doesn’t have bacon, I’m going to refer you back to the fact that it came from a German person who got it from her mother-in-law (presumably also German). I don’t think it gets much more authentic than that.

By the way, this potato salad is probably my new favorite recipe. Seriously, the next time I make it, I might add a hardboiled egg. But probably not, I just think I’m on an egg kick lately. If you’re making these two dishes together, start with the potatoes because they’ll take longer to cook. And, allowing them to sit for a bit will develop the flavors nicely.

I’ve added the amounts that I think would be about right as my coworker just gave me ingredients and instructions. But play around with it to get the balance you prefer.

German Potato Salad

• 4-6 small to medium, waxy potatoes
• 1 onion, diced (I used purple onions for a bit of extra color.)
• 2-3 t sugar, divided
• 2-3 T white vinegar, divided
• ½-1 C stock, hot
• 1-2 dashes of Maggi liquid seasoning (found in the Asian aisle of your grocery store)
• 5-8 T sunflower oil (or other neutral tasting oil)
• Chives, chopped
• Salt and pepper

With their skins on, boil the potatoes in heavily salted water until they are done. Drain the potatoes and rinse them several times with cold water. When the potatoes have cooled slightly (but are still warm), peel them.

Cut them into thin slices. This part was the trickiest for me. If the potatoes break apart, let them cool for a bit more. But you kind of have to balance it out because they need to be warm when you add the other bits.

In a large bowl, mix the onion, 1 t sugar, 1 T vinegar, salt and pepper. Next, add the potatoes. Add a little bit of hot stock over the potatoes. Toss carefully so as not to break the potatoes. (I used a wide spatula to give them a few turns.)

Repeat this two or three times depending upon how much liquid the potatoes will absorb. You want to have the potatoes absorb most of the liquid (so not sitting in a stock bath), but you also want them to be slightly moist. When I did this, I used a little more than ½ C of stock, but I also tasted the potatoes at this point and added another 1 t sugar mixed with an additional 1 T vinegar. Keep this ratio of sugar to vinegar if you decide to add more. And, make sure you dissolve any additional sugar in vinegar before adding to the potatoes so you don’t get one sweet potato next to a tart one.

Then, add a dash of the Maggi seasoning. (A little goes a long way so don’t overdo it.) At this point, let the potato salad sit for a few hours.

Before you’re ready to serve, add the oil in the same manner that you added the stock—slowly so as not to drown the potatoes. Mix the chives in. My coworker stresses that the oil needs to go in at the very end because if you do it any sooner, the potatoes won’t absorb the liquid and will end up bland.

Schnitzel

You can make this recipe with either veal or pork. I used veal because it was on sale at my grocery store that week. This recipe will serve four.

• 1 lb of boneless meat (chops or steaks work best)
• Flour
• 2-3 eggs
• 2 t mustard
• Breadcrumbs
• 1-2 dashes of cayenne pepper
• Olive oil and butter
• Lemon wedges

Make sure that your meat is well-trimmed. Then, divide it into four equal portions. Now, for the fun part: Take your meat tenderizer and pound the hell out of it. It should be about ¼” thick. The result is called an escalope and is more tender now that the fibers of the meat are broken down. Don’t be shy. Really pound it out.

Pat the meat dry with a paper towel and lightly season with salt and pepper. Now, for the traditional cutlet preparation with three shallow dishes:

1. Flour
2. Eggs lightly beaten with the mustard
3. Breadcrumbs mixed with the cayenne pepper

Over medium-high heat, heat oil and butter in a sauté or fry pan. It should be deep enough that the schnitzel will float while it cooks. You definitely should use the mix of oil and butter because it’s just tastier.

Dip an escalope in the flour, then the egg mixture, then the breadcrumb mixture. Gently place it in the pan (watch for hot oil spray). Cook until they are golden brown—no more than 4 minutes a side. Work in batches and add more oil and butter as necessary.

Serve with lemon wedges.

Results

Ridiculously easy and ridiculously good. Mr. Moo enjoyed the schnitzel immensely. (I made him mashed potato and cauliflower as his side because Maggi seasoning is a bit salty for the young one.) Paul was a big fan as well, even saying, “I’m getting past the onions because this is so good.”

Simple mealtime win. Thanks, again to wonderful, multinational coworkers!

My Miserable Meatloaf Failure

I’ve been in a funk lately. Not that late 1960s, groovy sort of funk either. I’m in that, “Man, I really don’t want to leave the sofa… ever” kind of funk.

When I get like this, I turn to comfort foods that I normally don’t eat. Let’s not start in on the whole question of how they can be comfort foods if I don’t have comforting memories of them. I love the meat and carb nature of comfort food. And, according to many a chain restaurant, there is nothing more comforting than meat made into a loaf shape.

I am not a huge lover of meatloaf. But, I can understand its charm and convenience. I found what appeared to be a delightful recipe in that 1948 gem Cooking by the Clock. I’ve cooked from it before… where that lovely couple tells you exactly when to start a meal in order for dinner to be properly served to the husband at 6:30.

I’ll spare you all of the drama of the times listed as I did a lot of modern shortcutting. But, I do need to tell you that this recipe was apparently old Mrs. Stowell’s meatloaf and the “high point” of the Thursday night church supper. I feel really, really bad for those churchgoers. Because, old Mrs. S didn’t know a damn thing about meatloaf.

The menu from the book includes, meatloaf (they insist on two words, but I will stick to the modern one word terminology), French fried potatoes, buttered carrots, hot rolls, floating island pudding, and coffee. Here are my skimps: I used baby carrots from a bag and microwaved them. I nixed the hot rolls. And, rather than deep frying the potatoes, I sliced and seasoned them and baked them in the oven with a bit of olive oil.

Meatloaf

• 6 slices bacon
• 1 small onion
• 1 stalk celery
• 1½ lbs ground beef (I used meatloaf mix which is half beef and half pork.)
• 6 slices of white bread
• 1 t salt
• ⅛ t pepper
• 1 C water
• 2¼ C canned tomatoes
• 1 green pepper, chopped

Heat oven to 350°. Put the bacon, onion, and celery through food chopper, using medium knife. (Um, food processor? With regular blade?)

Combine with the beef and mix well. Break the bread into small pieces. Combine all ingredients except tomatoes and green pepper; mix thoroughly and shape into a loaf. This is what mine looked like once mixed (which is to say gross):

Put into a greased loaf pan. (I’m not really sure why I had to shape it into a loaf. Doesn’t the loaf pan do this for you? And, while we’re at it, what sized loaf pan did they use in the 1940s? Because, jeez Louise, this was one packed loaf pan.) Cover with tomatoes and chopped green pepper. Bake in oven for 1 hour.

There are directions for baking outside of a loaf pan that involves basting. I wasn’t about to do that.

Results

So, this picture is of the nightmare meatloaf in the oven. Because that’s where it was a good deal after the allotted time. Let’s just say that 350° for an hour gets you to the mostly raw stage. Also, please note that I put the pan on a baking sheet as it was overflowing with meat and I was afraid (rightly so) of cooking juice spillage.

But, once I cranked it up to 375° and let it bake for another half an hour, how did it taste? Eh. How was the texture is a better question. That was weird. Moist bread (I hate that word, but so appropriate here) stuck within meat bits. It had the consistency of snot. Definite ick. Mr. Moo agreed. Paul loved it. (All I had to do was tell him it had bacon in it.)

Buttered Carrots

So, you can peel and lop off the tops, then cut them into strips before boiling them in lightly salted water. Or, you can microwave baby carrots. Then, add ½ t salt, some pepper, and put butter over them. That’s it. I felt like the recipe was a bit like Paula Dean’s English pea recipe. If you care, they looked like slippery carrots in a dish:

I’m not even going to show you a picture of the fries. After having to bake the meatloaf for so long, they came out pretty crispy.

Floating Island Pudding

• 2 eggs
• 7 T sugar
• Pinch of salt
• 1 t cornstarch
• 2 C milk
• 1 t vanilla

Separate egg yolks from egg whites. Beat the yolks slightly. Combine 4 T sugar, salt, and cornstarch and add to yolks. Scald the milk in the top part of a double boiler. (Heat until bubbles appear around the edge.) Then, gradually pour milk over the egg yolk mixture.

Return the mixture to top of the double boiler; stir over hot (not boiling) water until it thickens—about 5 minutes. When it is creamy (so that it coats a metal spoon), pour immediately into a cool bowl to stop further cooking and to avoid curdling. (If custard is at all lumpy, strain it.) Cool and add 1 t vanilla.

Beat the egg whites until stiff, or until they stand up in peaks when the beater is lifted out. Add 3 T sugar gradually and beat until fluffy. With a large spoon, dot the egg whites on top of the cooled custard. Chill in refrigerator until ready to serve. It will take approximately ½ hour to make this pudding.

Results

Well, much like its brethren the meatloaf, the custard never actually finished. So, here is a picture of it in my fridge.

The island thing didn’t dot so well. But, at least, they were truly floating because the custard never set. I don’t know if the ratio of liquid to cornstarch was off or if my cornstarch had lost its starchiness. But, this was a mini-disaster. (I say mini because it still had enough sugar to taste OK.)

So, all in all, the meal that was supposed to comfort me out of my doldrums tanked. I blame the authors of the cookbook, Jean and Clarke Mattimore entirely. Those perpetually happy cooks taunting me from the cover of the book. Look how easy! Look how perfectly lovely everything will turn out if you only follow us into our pleasantly modern kitchen! Bastards! But, at least this meal tanked so completely and so epically that it cannot (I hope) be repeated anytime soon.

Geesh, it’s Sheesh

I tend to bitch a lot about Chicago’s lack of good falafel joints. I think the gods of Mediterranean dining heard my plea because there are now two falafel restaurants within a block of my office. Sadly, I will be working from home full-time next month. Oh, the cruel irony!

My obsession isn’t just with falafel, it’s also with kibbe. (And, I still haven’t found good kibbe in Chicago. Suggestions are appreciated.) Kibbe is a mix of bulgar and diced meat mixed with spices and then cooked. I’m a bit on the fringe on this one, but I like kibbe in the baked pie format (rather than the more typical torpedo-shaped, deep fried format).

This is why I have fallen in love with Sheesh. They have both kibbe types, plus tomato kibbe for the vegetarians out there. Sheesh, unfortunately for me, is in suburban Detroit. It’s the only place that I have found that has good falafel and baked kibbe. Now, I know it’s a bit of a trek, but if you’re in the area, give it a try. It’s in a strip mall (what in the suburbs isn’t?) and the decor is pretty basic. They do a brisk carry out business because they have so few tables, but there’s rarely a very long wait for dining in.

The last time I was in Livonia, my family stopped in for lunch. It was the first time I have had spotty service here. Usually, it’s pretty quick and responsive.

What We Ate

They begin by bringing warm bread and bit of salsa to your table. It’s sooooo good. A very happy Moo ate half a basket on his own.

My mom and I went with falafel sandwiches which are rolls with lettuce, tomato, and cabbage or turnips. I had a side of fries and an extra bit of hummus on top to really hit the spot.

Mr. Moo had a cup of lentil soup and pretty much devoured the entire thing before he began playing with straws and napkins and whatever else he could get his hot little hands on. (Did I mention that they’re family-friendly? They are.)

My sister had lentil soup and the fatoush salad. Their fatoush is exactly what you would expect from a traditional salad—romaine lettuce, tomatoes, and cucumbers with crispy pita bread and that addicted-like-crack dressing.

Paul went with the shawarma plate. You get your choice of meat served on top of rice or fries with a side of salad or soup. Paul went with rice and salad which is so very unusual for him, I almost had a mini heart attack. Finally, my dad also had the shawarma plate configured pretty much like Paul’s except with the soup.

What We Drank

We had the usual coffees, teas, and sodas. But, I would like to point out that they make fresh juices which are pretty splendid. (You watch the guy juice your stuff right after you order it.) Juices are also available by the quart if you’re doing the carry out routine.

Location: 37240 Five Mile Road, Livonia, MI. It’s at the far end of the strip mall on the northeast corner of Newburgh and Five Mile. Obviously, parking is readily available.

The Pan That Spawned the Dish

What Is It?

A pan, obviously… specifically, a paella pan (which interestingly enough really means pan pan as the word paella derives from the Latin for pan). Anyhoo, this super wide, lightweight, and shallow pan is used for cooking that beauty of Spanish dishes—paella.

How Does It Work?

Traditionally, paella was (and still is) cooked outdoors over wood fires. So, you need a pan that can take a beating but will also heat up quickly (hence the thinness of the metal). You’ll notice dimples on the surface of the pan. This can help with even heat distribution as you’re not supposed to stir paella whilst it cooks.

You also need something large enough to feed a lot of people because in the early days, paella-cooking was a festive, community affair. This beauty is 15” across, and by no means a large pan. It easily fits on my stovetop. I live in a much more inhospitable climate than Valencia, so I probably won’t get outside to cook paella very often.

Finally, you need something with sturdy handles because paella is typically served from the pan. So, easy removal from the heat source is key.

Do I Really Need It?

Nah. I made a decent paella in one of my every day pans. But, you can’t really beat cooking a dish named for a pan in the pan it was supposed to be cooked in.

Where Can I Buy My Very Own?

Pretty much any retailer of pots and pans. Mine came to me (thanks to lovely cousins in South Carolina) from Spain via Williams-Sonoma. Sometimes, I feel like I should work at W-S. I did a quick search and this exact style pan is sold at any number of online retailers.

Now, we just have to wait for the weather to warm up. And, I’ll get the old Weber grill fired up for some outdoor summer paella fun.