Chicken in a Valencian Style

I cannot wait to visit Valencia, Spain again -- it remains one of my most favourite eating places in the world. And what a Mercado Centro -- stall after stall of fish and cured meats and cheeses and olives and, and, and....paella dishes of various shapes and sizes being sold in hardware stores around the market. If you're ever there, don't pass up the opportunity to have paella at the outdoor stalls even if you have to line up for it. Valencia is the home of the paella!!!

The last time in Valencia, our evening walks ended up in a surreal medieval festival held in the bullring where I tasted my best hogroast ever drenched in a fabulous herb and olive oil dressing. I still remember going through the airport security and the x-ray machines, and having to open my bagfuls of chorizos, cheeses, and saffron tubes for inspection to the approving smiles of the spanish officers.

My dog Lucinda's first taste of cheese just happened to be basque cheeses because shortly after our Valencian trip, we picked her up from the breeder. To comfort the poor new puppy, we gave her the cheeses from Valencia. Sadly, now her cheese palate is so fussy (discerning, as my partner claims) that she will turn her nose up at most other cheeses.

I digress. I want to talk about chicken here in a Valencian Style but I call it that because I think there really is no proper name for it. I stumbled upon the dish by accident and this is the best adaptation I can offer because it requires some atmospheric elements. It was hot, it was the siesta and we were hungry, having emerged from yet another art museum. Most restaurants were already shut and only kebab places were opened. We found this cafe (I don't even know where it is anymore) promising air-conditioning and a fixed price menu of salad, chicken, and custard. We didn't care by then, we wanted to sit and have liquids and food. The cafe was small, with the usual plastic lining on tables (seating no more than 16 people), plastic cups and plastic flowers. The cafe was not serving anything else.

The salad arrived -- the usual testament to mediterranean vegetables, drizzled with olive oil. Then the chicken came, and oh lordy, what a wonder. It was so good that we used our bread to sweep up whatever drips of gravy and garlic we could find. Here is my version of the dish.

Fresh bay leaves and garlic (whole cloves, unpeeled) are essential here, lots and lots and lots of both (you decide what 'lots' mean to you). Along with some roughly cut shallots, throw the mass of them into the saucepan with the heated olive oil and stir until golden brown. A little saffron helps too but is not necessary (though I prefer it). When hot and fragrant enough, fry the chopped up chicken pieces (rubbed with seasalt) in it, along with the gizzards and liver until the concoction is crackling, sputtering, and the chicken pieces are browned. Once browned, throw some dry sherry and a little marsala into the mixture, add coarse pepper, followed by some white wine. Cover the sauce pan, turn the fire down, and let the liquid cook down until you see the gravy separating from the oil. Add salt to taste. Serve. Ensure there is plenty of bread around. Down with red wine.

I do not demand that there are special types of chickens for this dish but whenever possible, it would be preferable if the chicken is free range, free-range corn-fed or organic free range. Even the free run chicken would be acceptable as I know some poultry farmers try to simulate outdoor conditions within indoor environments due to adverse weather. My problem with battery chickens is not only the horrible treatment of the birds but the taste and texture of the chicken itself. I do not want to be overly preachy about this but if there are options, and you can afford them, please think of free range and organic.

Tip. The gizzard and liver are intrinsic to this dish, don't throw them away. However, if as usual, the chicken is purchased without them, look to chicken liver pate as a substitute -- adding to the mixture before pouring the wine in during the cooking process. The liver gives the dish a rich and earthy flavor. The confection of bay leaves, garlic and the liver is what makes this dish absolutely delightful.

Chocolate Espresso Cookies

I discovered this recipe years ago, and it has become a regular in my baking rotation. I have found that it helps to let the batter thicken before baking the cookies, usually between 10 and 20 minutes.

3 oz unsweetened good chocolate, chopped
2 cups semisweet chocolate chips
1/2 cup unsalted butter, cut into pieces
3 large eggs
1 cup plus 2 Tbsp sugar
2 and 1/4 tsp finely ground dark-roast coffee beans
3/4 cup all-purpose flour
1/3 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp salt
1 cup walnuts

Preheat the oven to 35o and grease 2 large, heavy baking sheets

In a double-boiler, melt unsweetened chocolate over barely simmer water, along with 1 cup of chocolate chips and butter, stirring until smooth. Remove pot from heat.
Beat eggs, sugar and ground coffee on high speed until very thick and pale, and the consistency is ribbon-like. Next beat in chocolate mixture.
Sift in flour, baking powder and salt, stir until just combined. Stir in remaining chips and walnuts.

Drop heaping tablespoons of batter about 2 inches apart on to baking sheets. Bake for 8-10 minutes in the middle of the oven, or until puffed and cracked on top. Cool for a brief minute before transferring cookies to racks.

Rice Pudding of Modena

Lynne Rossetto Kasper's The Splendid Table: Recipes from Emilia-Romagna, the Heartland of Northern Italian Food is another long time favorite. I have a special fondness for some of the more old fashioned recipes like A Fare Dieci Piatti di Maccheroni Romaneschi or Rosewater Maccheroni Romanesca which I highly recommend for a romantically inclined repast. Another favorite is her recipe for Torta Barrozi, an exceptionally moist chocolate almond torte. I will most definitely discuss the Torta Barrozi and my variations in a later post. Although I have been cooking from this book for several years, I only recently gave a hand to Torta di Riso or Modena Rice Pudding.

This is a very simple recipe and it is easily modified.

Kasper begins by cooking 1 cup of arborio rice in 3 & 1/2 cups milk. Cook as one would regular rice, albeit cautiously, for approximately 20 to 25 minutes until it is done, but maybe just a bit al-dente. Then stir in one cup of sugar and allow to cool.

Lightly whisk five large eggs, and stir into the rice mixture with a lemon's worth of zest. She suggests you also add 1/4 cup finely diced candied citron or 3/4 cup sliced blanched and toasted almonds.

Pour the mixture into a buttered spring form pan and bake for approximately one hour at 350 f until a knife inserted two inches from the edge comes out clean.

The variations on this are many. As I am partial to zest of all kinds, I like to add the zest of one lemon and the zest of an orange. I spend a lot of time in Lebanese grocery stores where I have access to all kinds of candied fruit. I am especially fond of candied Seville orange which I prefer to the candied citron. It is also a nice touch to toast slivered almonds and lay them flat on the bottom of the spring form pan rather than mixing them with the rest of the ingredients. They provide a nice 'icing' for the pudding.

The layer of lightly browned almonds is particularly dramatic when you use different kinds of rice in this pudding. For example, brown rice, once you get over it's health food associations, actually has a very nice and nutty flavor and you can, on occasion, even find an arborio variety or other short grain types. Another option, that is quite dramatic is to use the short-grain purplish black variety which you can find in some Asian grocery stores. Make sure you take the time to stand over this version as you cook the rice so you can observe the wonderful purple swirls that quickly penetrate the milk. If you place the slivered almonds on the bottom of the pan for this version the end result is an exquisite visual contrast. Next on the list of variations is to use coconut milk rather than cattle milk, but I have not tried this version yet. I'll post an addendum as soon as I give it a try.

Kale and Chorizos

I had promised a post on Portuguese food but I wish first to contribute another easy and simple favourite dish of mine: kale cooked with chorizos. The proximity to the continent can reap culinary delights. I grocery shop whenever and wherever I can, and my larder has become an odd admixture of bottles of pickled mushrooms from Warsaw, and vinegrette octopus. This dish is a variation of a recipe from the fabulous restaurant in London called Moro (never, ever give up a chance to eat there if you can!).

I grow kale in my garden. I love the look of kale as decorative vegetables but kale is hardy and also lasts throughout the winter here, and my modest crops see me through the 'vegetable gap'. While my favourite is Nero di Toscana, this year I grew the Red Russian instead, fringed by poppies and fennel in my potager. I have no regrets, they are delicious leaves.

I cook the kale down with a good meat stock, crushed garlic, a little salt, pepper and olive oil. When the stock is near thickening, I add some chopped tomatoes and a little anchovy paste. I make the anchovy paste myself with crushed bottled/canned anchovies, coarse salt, dry chilli flakes, pepper and olive oil. I bottle the paste and stick it in my fridge. It lasts!

Fry the sliced chorizos separately in a sauce pan, then add the kale, tossing the mixture together. Serve. A variation is to add raisins while cooking to give it a little sweetener. I also garnish with roasted pine nuts.

Tip. I substitute with spring greens, and sprout leaves (you just don't eat the brussel sprouts, the leaves of the vegetable are nutty, and flavorful). Of course, any variation of a chorizo (as long as it is spicy) is fine as well. I am enthusiastic about using spanish morcillas -- and roasted almonds as garnish.

Herbs and Leaves

Summer is a glorious time in England, if and when we have a summer. Last year, summer was a no-show, and I couldn’t get anything to grow. I love summers because my little garden is most productive and I enjoy the freshness of the herbs and vegetables around me. I’m sorry -- it does make a difference when you are able to gather a bunch of fresh herbs and salad leaves. I am also grateful that I live in a country-side abundant with ‘wild food’ – spring’s offering of wild garlic this year produced an amazing aromatic soup.

Tonight’s dinner was no exception. I love chervil, and it is an under-appreciated herb. I grow chervil whenever I can but it can be temperamental and when given enough early attention, will grow profusely and easily. Omelette fines herbes is a remarkable dish, though spectacular it is not. It does not cry out for over-the-top ingredients, just fresh ones. There is no fancy garnish, it is simple and honest, and best eaten immediately. I do not demand this as necessary, and purchased herbs will do. However, If you have a herb garden, all you need are French tarragon, flat leaf parsley, chives and of course, the delightful chervil. Chop them very fine and put half of the chopped herbs into the beaten eggs, stir, and add salt (preferably coarse) and pepper. The rest, place onto the omelette when nearly cooked, and fold over. The omelette should remain runny and soft in the centre.

I had my omelette tonight with a fresh leaf salad from the garden. A simple dressing of olive oil, and salt and pepper is enough. I dislike the use of balsamic vinegar as a dressing since it has become such a sad excuse for ‘sophisticated food’. Balsamic is over-used, and over-abused – deployed when we are too lazy to consider other types of vinegrettes that we can certainly concoct ourselves, and with more imagination and verve.

Tip. Never despair when your leaf salads grow to seed. The Mizuna plant is a wonderful leaf but when a little hardened by bolting, simply deep-fry the leaves (individually) as a tempura – and dip in a tempura sauce garnished with thin slices of ginger. It’s lovely.

Persimmon Wong (with thanks to Bianca for letting me blog along)

Nutella for Grown Ups & the Pistachio White Chocolate Mousse Cake

I was given Carole Bloom's The Essential Baker: the Comprehensive Guide to Chocolate, Fruit, Nuts, Spices, and Other Ingredients as a Christmas gift about two years back and it has received a lot of love in our household. Bloom's precise and carefully composed recipes not only deliver fabulous results, but provide some fine foundations for further baking experimentation. One case in point is this scrumptious hazelnut cake which I later used as the base for a pistachio and white chocolate mousse cake. I'm going to post her basic recipe here, followed by my variation.

1. Bloom calls for 2 & 1/4 cups hazelnuts which you toast and then rub in a towel to remove the skins.
2. The next ingredient is 1/2 cup light cooking oil. I used canola as a tribute to my Albertan heritage. You blend the nuts with the oil until they make a very fine slurry in a food processor. This takes a couple of minutes.
3. Melt 9 oz bittersweet and 7 oz milk chocolate in the microwave, or in a double boiler if you like to fiddle with that kind of nonsense. Add this mixture to the food processor and blend again until fully mixed. I've found that Ghiardelli is perfectly suitable for this cake.
4. Beat 6 extra large eggs until they are frothy, and then slowly add 1/2 cup of sugar. Beat in total about five minutes on high until the egg mixture is very thick and pale. At this point, add the chocolate mixture. She suggests beating, but I mix it in with a spatula.
5. Whip a cup of heavy cream until quite thick. Mix this into the above mixture with a spatula.
6. Pour into a prepared baking pan and bake in a bain marie for one hour at 350 f. Turn the oven off and allow the mousse cake to stand for 15 minutes in the oven before you remove it.

The pistachio variation calls for a few simple substitutions. First, substitute pistachios for the hazelnuts. Replace the chocolates with 1# white chocolate, and then blend the whole eggs with a couple of tablespoons of sugar rather than the 1/2 cup. Otherwise, follow her instructions to the letter.

The Gianduia mousse cake is reminiscent of Nutella, but all grown up. Another variation I've tried was adding a shot of Cointreau and some orange zest, although the basic cake is so delicately perfect that it's almost a shame to spruce it up. The pistachio variation is kind of sweet, and a lovely pale green in color. I served it up as a birthday cake, and to celebrate a friend's bon voyage to the Amazonian rain forest. They seemed pleased.

Seven Spices

In Recipes and Remembrances From an Eastern Mediterranean Kitchen, a truly remarkable ethnography masquerading as a cookbook, Sonia Uvezian describes a spice mix that was once popular in the Levant called abzar harra (hot grains). This mixture is a likely predecessor for saba` beharat or seven spices.

I suppose we could always put together our own seven spice mixture, but we're fairly lazy around here and we just purchase it from the Phoenicia Market in Houston. Their seven spice powder is composed of allspice, cinammon, cloves, cumin, coriander, caraway seeds and nutmeg. It is an essential ingrediend for kefta kebabs and numerous other Levantine dishes. It's also very nice with okra and tomatoes, fritattas, and just about anything else where you might want to put some kind of mixed spice powder.

Kafka Kebabs

My Lebanese partner and I have recently made a go of making kefta kebabs, a Middle Eastern specialty recently renamed Kafka Kebabs by one of our friends. They are basically a tube of ground meat with herbs, spices and onions that are grilled over a charcoal fire.

A basic recipe calls for finely ground meat, herbs, spices, and a binding agent.

• For the meat, begin with approximately 1 # of ground meat. We've tried lamb, beef and bison, although lamb would be the most common meat of choice in the region of origin.
• Finely mince two bunches of flat leaf parsley, as if you would do anything as crazy as purchase curly leaf parsley!
• One large onion, finely minced.
• For spices, one heaping teaspoon of salt, a teaspoon of cumin and cinnamon, and two table spoons of seven-spice powder (to be explained later).
• For a binding agent you will need a tablespoon of baking soda.

The meat must be finely ground, and somewhat fatty. As store processed meat is not finely ground enough, toss the meat into a food processor and give it a few whirs with the spices and baking soda. If you purchased lean meat, you may want to toss in a couple of tablespoons of butter to increase the fat ration. This is absolutely necessary if the kebabs are to stick together properly. The baking soda has an interesting effect. It increases the stickiness of the mixture, allowing the kebabs to maintain their form on the grill.

After you have mixed together the dry ingredients in the food processor, dump the meat into a mixing bowl and mix the parsley and onions in by hand. Form the meat around a skewer into tubes about 3/4 to 1 inch thick and anywhere from 5 inches to a foot long. If you want to dispense with the skewer, keep them about five inches long.

Grill over hot coals a few minutes on each side until done, and eat in pita with humus.

Opening Post

I have convivial, if very practical reasons for establishing this journal. It is largely intended as a record, for myself and for friends, of recipes tried, recipes failed, and kitchen experimentation. When I learn a new and noteworthy recipe, I will record it and its variations in this space. Please chime in if you have any suggestions...