STIR THE POTS

Nothing like good Pizza!

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Nothing like some fire to give you some char!

Crusty Napolitano, success!

Making pie...ham and Brussel sprouts!

Choux Bruxelle avec Jambon du Parma....

Pizza

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What's in a name?

One of my staff members is from Chile, and if it were not that once or twice a day that he mentions my soup being "a Carbonada," I wouldn't of taken any notice. His nationalist labeling of virtually every dish I make as distinctly Chilean rings a bit funny, having never been to Chile, or even tried that country's cuisine. So tonight I decided to make my own rendition of his description of a Carbonada. It's a hardy soup, chock-full of vegetables, including potatoes, beans, squash and corn. There is some meat in it too, but I had only a smoked ham hock. It provided a good flavor to the red Colombian beans I had in my pantry.

So here it is, Carbonada alla Chilena for Toti!

 

Goût de terroir à perpétuité (or pastrami)

Last week I had a taste for some hot pastrami. It was cold and windy, and me and my wife found ourselves on New York City's Lower Eastside, historically a bastion of the Jewish deli. Some little voice told me that it may not come up to expectations. But a hankering for "old favorites" won out.  Safe to say, things have changed. The delis aren't, themselves, specifically the famous Katz's, one of my favorites, had changed. Its free pickles on every table are no longer the same. Even its aging, cranky waiters that somehow inspired fondness (if not love) were noticeably gone.

I felt like a tourist visiting a shell of history in food, tradition lost. My old world neighborhood's goût terroir (a French wine term meaning "taste of the soil") has disappeared. And yet there are new places, like the latest wave of artisanal wood oven pizzerias sprouting everywhere in New York. Their new but old approach to making pizza, gives hope for those tired of the standard parked pies pies sold by the slice behind the counter.

I wolfed down a pastrami sandwich, feeling more full than satisfied. So afterward's,  my wife and I meandered over to get some Bialys, another lost ethnic art. Again, it proved different from what I'd remembered. In fact, its basic toppings of onion and poppy seeds were missing! But, then my wife stopped at Doughnut Plant, who had rightfully earned a line of people snaking out the door. They make the most delicious old school - new school (organic) donuts that I love. 

There is still promise and hope in these bright lights of the city. I guess it will take good chefs and bakers to re-visit, re-vamp the old into the new...still a good Deli is in need! Can this new generation of chefs, bakers be the guardians of lost traditions of taste, or am I just an old school nostalgic?

Napolitano

pizza bianca con funghi, cipolla e rucola

Svenska brød bakning - Goddag på dig!

No, I'm not learning Swedish... But Swedish bread preparation is on my radar. Today I have been baking some loaves found on Martin Johansson's blog, by way of Petra. Danke sehr!

Bread is a simple language on its own; flour, water, salt. And Google translate can help a lot if you weren't born in Stockholm or Bavaria. Actually, I was born in Germany! Well, never mind. Back to bread.

I may have to ask my friend David to pick up a copy of Martin Johansson's book for me when he and his wife go on vacation in Sweden; but in the meantime I am going to bake as many of the varied formula's this blogger and baker has offered.

Here is what I made today, his PROTOTYP No 1, with the only difference my use of white whole wheat flour that Petra mentions, and some rye to substitute for his suggested 60/40 Swedish specialty flour mix.

And this interesting loaf reminded me of the Bauernbrot I saw being made in Switzerland some years ago, with only a single bulk ferment and directly shaped and finally baked. Interesting... 

 

Blowtorched plagiary

Re-interpretation of classic paintings in the art world is the norm; for instance, a Velasquez turned abstract by Picasso.

Today I wasn't re-interpreting a thing. No, today,I was blatantly plagiarizing a soup by Brad Farmerie of Public which I found surfing Google. It's a great soup; sweet, spicy and unctuous carrot with some ginger, cardamom, onions, garlic sweated. Then some coconut milk, water, lemon juice, honey and seasoning. And to give that playful twist and heat -- Aleppo marshmallows, some coriander, a scattering of toasted pepitas and Styrian pumpkin seed oil top off this deal.  

Giving the soup as one of the specials to my maitre'd (who is a real plain-Jane as far as flavors and food are concerned - if it's not Porcini or pasta, for him, it's not on!) he eyed me suspiciously. His concern was amplified when he saw me use a blowtorch to brown the marshmallows on top of the soup, finally drizzling oil and sprinkle the assortment of seeds. But then he  tasted this soup, and all he could say was "mmmgood!"

Sometimes you can change stuff, but in this case it's better just to make it and enjoy it.