Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery

Maybe even when it's unintentional? The above dish is Rustichella D'Abruzzo pasta abruzzese in a light chicken stock/butter/thyme sauce with shredded chicken, diced carrots and red pepper, and minced parsley. I love Ructichella pasta (this is not a paid endorsement). It costs significantly more than my regular go-to dried pasta (De Cecco), although the difference in price has been less lately, but it's really at a hole notha level. The chicken was picked off of bones used to make stock from the parts of the chicken not used in the last post. After the stock simmered for a few hours the chicken meat was pretty tender, and it was easy to get neck, rib, and all sorts of other tasty tidbits of meat. It was good.

After making this I was looking at Luxe's menu online, only to see that they serve a pasta in a herbed chicken broth. I imagine theirs is prettier. Also, looks like they were ahead of one of my previous posts where I was biting off of a future CLE restaurant's menu. Such is life. I mean, what were the odds of me being ahead of this guy mentioning sunomono? These things happen.As for the second picture, that was more blatant than serendipitous. I haven't been to Tartine (yet), but after seeing the picture in this week's Scene (link will only work for a few more days I think) I had ratatouille on bread on the brain. So while the above may not be classic or photogenic it tasted good (I envy those folks who are eating at home during the early daytime--although to be fair I have it better than many--or have proper lights to take pictures by). It's toasted olive oil brushed bread and a mix of the following: sauteed red onion (Snake Hill Farm), very thinly sliced garlic (garden), peeled and chopped Louisiana long green eggplant (garden), diced carrot (Blissful Acres), roughly chopped peeled tomatoes (garden), and salt and pepper. It's topped with minced basil.

Taking a note from ratatouille experts I sauteed the stuff separately, kind of. First the onions went in a hot pan with a fair amount of olive oil and salt and pepper. Once soft I added the sliced garlic, gave a quick stir, and then removed the mix from the pan. Then I added more olive and sauteed the seasoned eggplant and carrots. Once those were soft I added in the roughly chopped tomatoes, more seasoning, and added back the onions and garlic. I cooked the tomato mixture down until it was somewhat jammy, spooned it onto the toast, added the basil, and enjoyed.

As for the taste, it's enough to mention that I ate spoonful after spoonful straight out of the pot. It was mild, but mild goodness. As for all the plagiarizing, next time I'll try to be a bit more creative. But I can't really say that's likely. I will, however, attribute.

Moules Frites (or A Return from Kitchen Exile)

First breakfast, and now a lunch in a new house. It's a slow work up to making a dinner, but now that I'm just about settled in a dish that involved deep frying on a stove without any type of ventilation seemed like an appropriate way to check out what it'd be like to clean up a little bit of a mess.

Regarding mussels, years ago I spent about five months in the Netherlands. Those mussel connoisseurs were pretty serious about only eating mussels in months that have an "r" in them. While that policy seems more relevant with certain oysters that don't seem to improve in warm water, it stuck for me, so I loosely abide by it.

Making the mussels was pretty simple, starting with a quick trip to Kate's Fish at the West Side Market, where I was reminded how economical a choice mussels are. When I got them home I melted a bunch of butter (Stutzman Herdshare) in a cast iron pan along with some minced shallot from the garden. When that was all hot and fragrant I added the mussels and a bunch of basil leaves. The pan was covered, occasionally shaken, and taken off the heat when all the mussels opened up (they all opened). It smelled wonderful. In an effort to get out from under a mountain of tomatoes I meant to throw some diced tomato into the mix, but it was not meant to be. While I think they would have been a nice addition, they weren't particularly missed.

The mussels were dumped into a bowl with some toasted baguette. Another unremarkable baguette picked up on the West Side of Cleveland. It wasn't poisonous, but wasn't what it could be. The toasting helped though.

And the frites, made while preparing the mussels. Julienned garden fingerlings twice fried in duck fat in a wok. The wok is great for deep frying small quantities of foods using a minimal amount of fat. I cooked the potatoes in hot fat until they lost some moisture, removed them with a spider onto a plate lined with a paper towel, and then fried them again, removing them from the fat when they were crispy and quickly seasoned them with salt. Next to try them with some horse fat, or more likely, rendered beef suet (tallow).

Clean up was a breeze, and I think the Benelux folks would respect this rendition of their dish. Hopefully the basil didn't hurt anyone's feelings.

Procrastinating

Eggs over easy, melon balls, toast, and bacon, not necessarily in that order.

It's not often I get to use the melon baller. I got the tool to easily remove seeds from apples and pears, so this kind of thing is just a bonus. Melon was on the brain after being treated to a wonderful melon/honey/olive oil cake dish at Bar Cento along with Maybelle's Parents. It reminded me of a super rich bread pudding, but was very different. The unexpected, but welcome, run-in with the Parents reminded me that there are advantages of being in smaller city, particularly this one. There are more than enough decent places to eat to stave off boredom, but the universe is small enough that there's always a good chance that you can wander into a place and find some good company and people that really enjoy good food.

The bacon is part of my quest to find the best bacon in the area. This stuff was from a processor in Fredericktown, OH. They use Ohio pigs. It was very good and toothsome, but a little pork steaky for my tastes. Maybe it was just the thick cut? For me, I've yet to have anything here or elsewhere that rivals the bacon from Country Gristmill (available at the Shaker Farmers Market, summer and winter). It's takes some attention during cooking, but I think the results are worth it. I'll admit though, that despite my love of smoking and things smoked I've yet to dabble with the ubiquitous trend of making bacon at home. It's bound to happen, but getting a happy pig's belly around here isn't as easy as it should be. It'll happen soon enough.

The eggs, as always, are from Plum Creek. Unless I get a few chicken of my own, there's no other choice for me. The butter for frying them and for the toast is raw milk butter from a cow-share I participate in.

A decent start for a day that should be filled with crating things for my imminent move. If you read this blog and are sick of hearing about it, I assure you I am sicker of mentioning it and am more than ready to move to my mini-orchard in the shadow of Franklin Avenue. Hopefully the next entry will be typed from there.

Borrowing ideas

Banana pepper stuffed with veal, parsley, pine nuts, parmesan, garlic, salt, and pepper with a thin tomato sauce. Corn (off the bone to all you Cento frequenters), and toasted bread heels (for all those who are looking forward to The Greenhouse Tavern and have peeked at the posted menu).

Stuffed peppers. These took a few minutes to make, but I think it was worth it. First I roasted the peppers over an open gas flame to get the skin all charred and blistered (there are ways to do this sans gas). Then the charred peppers went into a bowl, which was covered with plastic wrap, and left to sit for a while. While the peppers were steaming from their own heat under the plastic, I chopped up some parsley, pine nuts (didn't even toast them first--what an amateur), and parmesan (chopped, not grated), and minced some garlic.

Once all that stuff was prepped I began removing the skin from the peppers. It's kind of relaxing, kind of tedious. After the skins were removed I cut the tops off the peppers, cut a slit along the sides, and scraped out some of the seeds and ribs. After the peppers were eviscerated I mixed all the non-pepper ingredients, along with salt and pepper, with the veal and began stuffing the peppers chile relleno style.

After the peppers were ready I got some tomato juice (leftover fluid after making a bunch of brushetta--it was basil infused) warmed up in a pan on the stove with some salt and set the oven to 425. The tomato juice had been in the fridge for a day, which was nice because I was able to skim off the water from the top and use just about pure juice for this. I placed the peppers in the juice filled pan (pictured below), and once it was simmering I placed the pan in the oven for about 10 minutes.

The banana peppers added some heat to this dish, and if one was heat adverse but still wanted something like this there are tons of options at the farmers markets. Thanks goes to Maybelle's Mom for getting stuffed vegetables on my brain. Hers were prettier.

The other stuff was simpler. The corn was super sweet, and it just took a quick saute in butter with some salt and pepper to make a really worthwhile vegetable side dish. I forgot how good corn can be. Even without the bone.

The bread was simple ends of baguettes (also part of yesterday's brushetta) that I doused in Spanish olive oil and placed in the 425 oven with the peppers (in a separate pan, of course). As noted above, I stole that idea, if it is possible to steal an idea from a restaurant that has not yet opened.

Sources: Corn and veal from Plum Creek at the Shaker Farmers Market. The bread was from the West Side Market--it was okay, but unremarkable. Olive oil from Mediterranean Imports at the WSM. Pine nuts from the West Side Food Co-op. Tomato juice, parsley, garlic, and peppers from St. Paul's patch, a small community garden on the near west side of Cleveland (I only grew the tomatoes and garlic for this one, the peppers and parsley were from other gardeners--we like to share). Raw milk butter from Stutzman Herdshare.

I'm not sure if this is 99.9% local (is that by weight?), but it was very tasty.

Liver (with onions)

Damn Rule #30, this really is liver with onions (see the picture below). It's pretty good stuff. Loosely adapted from The Silver Spoon, here it is:

Ingredients:
- Chicken livers (Here 6 from Plum Creek--they couldn't be fresher, and the farm is idyllic)
- Onion, rough dice (I used the short side of half an onion)
- Sage (a truly hardy perennial around here)
- Port, not too much (scant half cup)
- Vinegar (Red wine)
- Egg yolks (Also from Plum Creek, 2 of them here. An equal amount of cream would have worked too.)
- Sage, torn into pieces
- Lemon juice (Doesn't take much.)
- Salt and pepper
- Olive oil
- Baguette (from Zoss the Swiss Baker)
- Fat (For sauteing. I used bacon fat.)

Method:
- Cook onions with a bit of salt in bacon fat until soft
- While onions are cooking dip cleaned livers (these came pretty clean) in vinegar and pat dry
- Once onions are soft add livers and most of the sage along with the port and salt and pepper
- Cook until livers get some color and port reduces
- Remove livers from pan, keeping the pan on the heat with the onions and port cooking down
- Chop livers (which should be medium rare/rare) and then add them back to the pan until just cooked through
- While chopped livers are finishing cooking, mix egg yolks with lemon juice in a separate bowl
- Once livers are just cooked, place them in a food processor (or mash up if you did a better job than me with the onion dice)
- Puree (or smash) livers, and then add some of the still very warm liver mixture to the egg yolks and lemon juice
- Place the rest of the puree in a bowl, and add the egg yolk/lemon juice/some liver mixture to the rest of the puree and stir well
- Let the mix sit for a short bit while you drizzle slices of baguette with olive oil
- Toast baguette slices (I used the grill side of a cast iron griddle.)
- Scoop some liver mix on a baguette slice, garnish with some sage, and serve

I enjoyed this, and frankly I may have overindulged. It was like returning to Montreal, where livers of all sort seem to fall from the sky.

Just look at the hot mess below:

Soft Shelled Crab Sandwich

Two things first. One, if you don't like looking at live (and dead) animals about to be eaten, don't scroll down. Two, while I'm sure the tastes are not comparable, this sandwich is a hell of a lot easier to make than this one. Still, the one above is tasty, and remarkably easy to eat if the sandwich is cut in half.

Nothing fancy here, just a tried and true method for some good soft shelled crab. First the crab is cleaned (kind of pictured below). Then, while a wok is heating up over full flame, a flour mixture is made consisting of white flour, old bay (a good amount), salt, and pepper. A small pool of high-heat safe oil is added to the hot wok (I used canola) and then the cleaned crab gets thoroughly covered in the seasoned flour. Into the wok it goes (might want to wear an apron--it sometimes splatters), cooked until it's done. This is not one of those things you want to be right on top of watching it cook or you may take a hit of molten crab insides.

And while the bread is normal, the lettuce is kind of special. Not purposefully in honor of one of Cleveland's favorite chefs who's headed to Terra Madre this fall (in the land of espresso and Barolo), the lettuce is a mix of Amish Deer Tongue, Grandpa Admirer's, and Tennis Ball from a Slow Food Ark of Taste pack of lettuce starts picked up at a great little organic plant sale at the absolutely amazing Crown Point Ecology Center in Akron (I always suspected Akron of being hipper than it admits. See also Mo' Mojo Mama Band.). Despite the heat, in partial shade and with all the rain we've been having these plants are thriving.

For sauce, a little mayo mixed with shallots and Frank's RedHot. There are few quasi-natural hot sauces I don't like, but I always go back to Frank's for American food and Tapatio for Mexican. Probably a result of growing up in the East and cutting my teeth out West.

Those things in the back--my first decent bunch of sugar snaps this season. Cooked in the wok with a little oil, water, salt, and pepper. Once the water cooked off they were just barely steamed and then started to get crispy in the oil.

Finally, tunes to cook by (an homage to the first link in this post). John E. Midnight's Dig Baby Dig! The 60s Rock and Roll Excavation. One town, three college radio stations. It generally works out well.

Hopefully that all took up enough space so it's up to you whether you want to look further. It's not bad, but I know at least one person who'd rather not see the carnage.

Alive and kicking, from Kate's at the West Side Market (Ask Eric, behind the counter, to help you. He's not just there for his looks.):
Cleaned crab. On the right, from top to bottom, gills, face, and apron.

Cleaning out the fridge

Half a dozen Plum Creek eggs, leftover troll caught King Salmon and asparagus, Farmers Market parsley, shredded Gre de champs and Valbert Vieux, a little 2% milk, and some salt and pepper. I consulted one of the finer food blogs around for frittata technique and got to work. I kept the oven at 425 (not 450), and just threw everything together in a pretty warm, buttered nonstick 8" pan. Once the eggs started settling I placed the pan in the hot oven. It firmed up in less than ten min.

Also on the plate are slices of a Frog Hollow Farm kiwi and some bread with the homemade rhubarb preserves from a few posts ago. A nice dinner, especially considering it was made with scraps.

Unbelievable

I really didn't think the no-knead bread would work, despite the evangelicals (including Bittman, the Minimalist himself). But it did, even in my cold house. I watched the video that I posted yesterday about fifty times, and read this recipe (Free NYT membership may be required--if you don't have it just google New York Times No-Knead Bread Recipe and look around) just as often. I settled on 3 cups unbleached bread flour, 1/4 tsp Dr. Oetker instant yeast (I have no idea why I had this, but after purchasing Fleischmann's rapid rise yeast, which I think is the same as instant, I found a few packets of the Oetker, so I used that.), between 1 1/2 and 1 5/8 cups of water, and 1 1/4 tsp salt. I let it rise in a bowl covered with plastic wrap for 21 hours (Like I said, it was cold.), folded and let it rest for about 15 min covered with plastic, then made a ball, laid it on a well cornmealed kitchen towel, sprinkled generously with more cornmeal, and covered with another kitchen towel and let it rise another hour and a half.

I preheated a six quart enameled cast iron pot and cover in a 500 degree oven towards the end of the dough's second rise. I'm normally not a fan of celebrity chef cookware, but the Batali pot seemed like a bargain compared to the better known brand, the lid has the nifty bumps that allow for pleasant self-basting (like this one), and there's no plastic knob. This may be a good option too, but again the plastic knob. Still, I question whether it will hold up to numerous high temp dry heatings. If you do some reading on this type of bread making you'll see that the luxury brand takes a beating too. I think an uncoated cast iron dutch oven might be best for this application.

Anyway, I cooked the dough covered for 30 min, then uncovered for just shy of 15. I couldn't be happier with the result:

Even the Philistine neighbor/landlord/coworker/friend enjoyed it, for what it's worth. Next I'll try it with olives, dried fruits, oats instead of cornmeal, all respectively, not together, of course. There's lots about this bread on the internet, and it's well deserved.

[Here's the post that began my obsession. It's a serious food blog.]

It's coming

In the spirit of being late on the scene, here's Jim Lahey's No-Knead Bread, courtesy of Mark Bittman and the New York Times. As always, no permission for use of the video has been granted. I'm prepared to take the heat. After all, Lahey asked for it to be shared. As for not being current, it takes a while for things to flow in from the coasts.