STIR THE POTS

Ilili - a restaurant

During my meeting and interview recently with Kamal Mouzawak, I was introduced to Ilili Restaurant Chef/Owner, Philippe Massoud. Philippe was roasting a whole lamb on a sidewalk on 5th Avenue for a food fair in The Flatiron district, not far from his 27th street restaurant. Kamal and I tried bites of several different dishes, and with Kamal telling me that IIili is one of New York's best Lebanese restaurants, I wanted to go try it.

Recently, I took my wife and visiting brother there for lunch. The restaurant is spacious, and features a dining room that uses lots of glass and wood. On this unusually hot autumn afternoon, the space wasn't quite full. Apparently, they are ususally packed solid - the proof being we couldn't get a reservation the previous Saturday for dinner.

Our waiter was helpful, offering tips on his own menu favorites.  The truth is we had already determined to share a mixture of mezze dishes - the small samplings that are typical in that part of the world. We also ordered a rose from the Bekka Valley. The dishes were not just flavorful but surprising. My favorite dish was bone marrow. Roasted, it was served with a sour cherry tabouleh. As Kemal had told me, Lebanese food is not just a street food concept. It's refined and full of fresh ideas I would want to use in my own cooking.

Some of the dishes were certainly familiar (e.g. falafael) but presented with wonderful panache. And with flavors that were nuanced and simultaneously very satisfying. Take the house specialty of brussel sprouts with fig puree, walnuts and yogurt. Words fail to capture the exquisite pleasure of this dish.  Pita was freshly baked and was a perfect way to use as a utensil and to swab the deliciously cinnamon perfumed meatballs and the silken kibbe. My I-phone snaps don't do it justice....

This was only part of what we ordered, and believe me, it was filling. My brother invited me to DBGB's, (Daniel Bouloud's new place) but I couldn't even get my mind to tell my stomach to make some room! I hope to find some time to speak with Philippe soon and visit his fabulous restaurant, again. Just to  sample lots more great food, and this time I'll make sure to enjoy some arak to cleanse the palate.

Tuna salad isn't always with mayo!

Since I came to America as a kid, I grew to love tuna fish sandwiches. You know the type; a can of tuna mixed with celery, onion, and mayo, then heaped into some fresh sliced bread. It's good "old school" comfort food. But sometimes a fresh and lighter version can be just as comforting.

It's fall now. Sometimes eating tuna salad seems more a summer kind of meal. My brother, who was visiting from Colorado, decided to cook us dinner the other night before he left to head back home. Our starter was a fabulous carpaccio of tuna with kimchi salad. I snapped the picture of it before he finished plating it. Not exactly the tuna on toasted white, but

 

He left me a nice chunk of fish, which he suggested I use for some pain bagnat (the French version of a tuna sandwich). That sounded just right, but I hadn't had any time for bread baking... so I just whipped up a pseudo-Nicoise salad instead, using anything that seemed to fit found in my fridge. With nubs of a toasted baguette, it was... divine. Really. The divinity flourished with a glass of the remaining half of a Channings Daughters Chardonnay my brother left us, as well.

 

Recipe cards - it's about the math!

As a kid, I was your typical late 1970s long haired, art class  social outcast. Not exactly a high achiever at school, especially since I was  prescribed with learning disabilities. Math was my biggest enemy. When I joined the United States Army and trained as  a cook, who knew I would be having to learn math, again? Percentages, no less!

Thankfully even with mediocre math abilities, I would later be able to use my Quartermaster school training  as a professional chef and home baker! I still have a set of Armed Forces recipe cards procured decades ago, holding those precious recipes for making it easier to cook for crowds ranging from eight to eight thousand and overly hungry troops.

They aren't bad recipes, either. Some of my favorites were for Yakisoba or peanut butter cookies. We often veered from the recipes to add our own touches, to the ire of many an inspection officer. "How many tablespoons?" they'd ask us, as we squirmed trying to look through the card they were holding in front of us. Call it learning disabilities or improvisation, but whatever it was we managed to create some great food. At least the troops seemed to like it.

To this day I still use the biscuit recipe, but always get pissed off that there isn't a metric set and have to convert! No worries. Because, low and behold, today military offers conversion guides for measurement. Today there's even a CD version of the recipe cards! And if you look through the index, there's all sorts of good cooking tools for capacities and "how toos!"  There are even guidlines for halal and kosher meals, along with trimmer and leaner healthier options! That means so long to SOS, chipped or creamed beef!

All to say that these days, I like learning. And looking back at the cards, they hold surprises. Like who knew that the Continental Congress  was learning the art of rationing and procurement so early on - simply as a way to control costs on salt, a method of preservation since they didn't have refrigeration. Now that is a proactive government! And did you know that our Army started company food service as early as 1777, then standardizing in 1869. It was Napoleon who said an army marches on it's stomach!

I still make biscuits for parties at Christmas, but I haven't dared to re-create SOS or creamed chipped beef. aka "shit on a shingle!" Funny we used to throw the dried up biscuits at the base theaters red shingles and see how many we could pop off to the consternation of the maintenance crew! 

I am just glad to have learned something more then shooting at someone, better to feed them!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Percentages and intuition - critical baking ingredients

The importance of percentages but also intuition can't be overstated when it comes to baking bread. That came to mind right after getting my latest bread book, Tartine by Chad Robertson. It's beautifully packaged with a Corinthian leather feel. And the photography is amazing. As is the inspiring and idyllic story of Chad Robertson's travels through sourdough country in France and California. Getting it gave me the excitement of a kid on Christmas morning. After admiring the photography and glancing through the pages, I quickly whipped into its recipes. But just as quickly I found out that maybe these formula's weren't quite up to snuff in the percentages department.

Recently in the The Fresh Loaf, I read an article Whole Wheat Loaf - "hole-y grail?" which reminds me of this experience. The article suggests that bakers should tap into tuition as much as dutifully following recipes. But also start with checking percentages. Sure you can follow a recipe, but are there errors in many baking/cook books. Thankfully some bakers will correct them. This makes great fodder on forums or a less then perfect loaf, so do the math before you bake.

The two times I made the rye, country loaf and whole wheat breads from Robertson's book, I found the dough was very slack; with a combination levain and dough having a high hydration. I used A.P. flour rather then bread flour, so this may have made a difference. What came out in my first bake, in actuality, was a very nice flax, sunflower seed loaf made with the rye  - though the add in was for the recipe calling for whole-wheat.

Taking a chance or just hoping for the best made it more interesting with an addition of a soaker. It was extremely wet and virtually impossible to shape. No picture but believe me, it was very tasty. The country loaf was also slack and sort of shapeless, even with the foldings, and dried out quickly. This latest bake, was promising but the loafs seemed flat, and my mom said it had too many  holes for her liking.

Far from wanting to judge or  critique this book, I want to go back and try this formula again, this time I want to use my intuition, or change something in the levain or final hydration, check the percentages. It's all about feeling your way around baking, figuring it out.

Get to Eataly... but get there early!

Since I first noticed the signs in front of Eataly in the Flatiron district, it intrigued me. I had heard rumors that its founders included both a famous chef and a food family emporium, and obviously it was going to be Italian. Other than that, I wasn't sure. Then I finally figured out that the Batali and Bastianich's  were behind this Italian temple to food.

 

It finally opened, drawing masses of out-of-town tourists (American and foreign), folks from Jersey, and local curious gourmands. One weekend I slipped through the crowded doors, making my way through rows of pasta, sauces, oils and various food stalls. Then I stopped to try some of the offerings. But the loud and boisterous crowd made it difficult to eat my $14.00 porchetta sandwich, frugaly dressed with hand sliced,rosemary laden pork, some fat drippings and simply sprinkled with sea salt. Sticker shock and the crush of the maddening crowd had me squeeze myself out till I was popped back into New York's Herald Square - the area best known by Shake Shack and Madison Park.

 

I tried it again recently, going with my wife at 9:00 am to the store's cafe, which opens slightly earlier than its mothership. The first thing I noticed were some Dolce and Farro croissants made with olive oil. The other thing I noticed was a line of people waiting to order. So we decided to return later for the main stores opening at 11:00 am.

Returning later, my wife and I took a quick, "ooh and ahhh" walk around. Yes, we were impressed. But with the recent drop of the dollar, it was expensive. There were no sales, and though Eataly is an Italian market, it's structured like a high end department store. In otherwords, you aren't going to haggle or get discount prices. That said, the place has some gems. A few are actually local but most are obviously imported from Italy. Apparently, the original founders of the store in Turin follow the ethics of the slow-food movement. I'm not sure they would like the New York version's carbon footprint. But there definitely are delights.

 

    

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bread-head that I am, I was pleased to finally be able watch some of the Italian-speaking bakers making bread, obviously training. It's said that Nancy Silverton, of Mozza and formerly La Brea Bakery will be overseeing the baking operations.  The loaves looked fresh and straight out of the oven, with signs of rising loaves on bakers racks.

  


Across from the check-out aisles is a ceiling high glass window filled with wine bottles... basically a fully stocked Italian wine shop. You're not going find a a $7.00 or $10.00 range here, but the sales clerk was Italian and was quite helpful. With its interesting choices, I had a strong urge to go to work stocking my own wine rack at home. But as suggested above, it was a bit on the pricey side. I stuck with bread.

 

The various restaurants inside the store are booked solid, and the pizzeria bustling. Our attempt to make a reservation was futile on the Saturday of our visit. The only opening was for pre-theater dinner at 5:00 PM. If you're going for dinner, you'll have to wade through the broohaha to get a table. This has become a destination place.

 

 

 

 

Ibán Yarza

Not too long ago, I first started noticing hits from  La Memoria de pan, Te quedas cenar and El foro de pan. All coming from Spain, so I wondered who was behind all this wonderful bread blogging. Shortly after I became a member of El foro de pan, which by chance is also visited by no other then Dieter Buschmann and Dan Lepard.

 The creative and talented baker behind it was Ibán Yarza and I had no clue who he was?  It was then I started finding out about this bread revivalist, cyclist, fermentationist. Along with Javier Marca and others in the bread baking renaissance in Spain. A self taught baker,he is teaching at home and wherever he is needed, from Bilbao to Barcelona. Ibán can be found with kilo's of flour on his bike and sanwiches in hand, but most often he his folding dough. Passing on the message of good bread with passion. On his various blogs regarding food or bread you can see his dedication and appreciation for good things, bon vivant au bici! I can't wait for him to start something on cycling soon!

His latest project was the translation into Spanish,"The Handmade Loaf " by British bread guru Dan Lepard.

 

Ibán Yarza

Jeremy: It must be a great feeling translating Dan Lepard’s book THML. How did that project happen?

Ibán: It is just a dream come true. Translating my favorite bread book is something I’m really grateful for. I can’t remember how it actually happened. I met Dan Lepard first back in 2005, but the idea did not fully came to life until quite recently; then Leqtor books and The Glutton Club teamed up with the British publishing house to make it happen and everything happened very quickly. In fact, a translator always complains about the lack of time, and so do I.

Jeremy: Will you write your own book?

Ibán: I don’t think so. I think there are already very good bread books. The problem in Spain is that we have very little (and mostly poor) translations. But if you take the following books, knead them well and let them rise slowly, I don’t think I could add anything.

The handmade loaf, Dan Lepard
Bread, Jeffrey Hammelman
Bread making, T. DiMuzio
Surdegsbröd, Martin Johansson
Pains d’hier et d’aujourd’hui, M Barboff
English Bread, E. David
Bread Builders, Wing and Scott

Jeremy: What got you interested in bread?

Ibán: To be honest, I can hardly remember when or why. I guess I was seduced by the magic of sourdough, the idea of creating bread from scratch. I was unemployed, probably a bit bored, so I went wild and started fermenting!

Jeremy: Sourdough, yeast, what makes them so different? And which is better?

Ibán: Quite simply, flavor. I’d say when you bite into a good piece of sourdough bread you can feel there is a soul inside that dough, you can feel it is alive.

Jeremy: Fermenting is sort of like a Frankenstein thing, "It's alive!!!!"  What other things do you ferment besides bread?

Ibán: I love fermenting. I “milk” my kefir pot every morning, and after the Spanish Summer is gone, now is time for sauerkraut. I’ve got a big “sauerkrauttopf” full of good bubbling stuff right now and pickled gherkins. Next thing I want to try is kvass (a beverage made of fermented rye bread). I really like to discover home brewing, but I’m a bit put off by all the equipment involved (unlike baking or pickling).

Jeremy: What is the most satisfying in baking bread; building the levain, mixing, folding, shaping or baking?

Ibán: Building a levain is a life-changing experience. Mind you, I don’t have any children yet.

Jeremy: Did you always eat or like bread growing up?

Ibán: Funny enough, I don’t recall great bread as a child, or even the sense that I was a true bread lover.

Jeremy: Did your mother bake?

Ibán: Not at all. But now she does bake her weekly sourdough loaf.

Jeremy: What is your favourite flour?

Ibán: Rye. No matter whether it’s white or whole-meal. I remember a Estonian rye flour I bought in Tallinn some years ago. I will never forget the aroma I got the moment I mixed it with water.
Jeremy: Does bread have terroir or a local taste?

Ibán: Absolutely. Go try some German, Baltic or Russian bread, and you’ll instantly fall in love with those countries and the people who bake those loaves.

Jeremy: You've traveled a lot. Some of your flickr photos show you holding sandwiches in front of landscapes. Is it like a “gracias” to the bread gods?

Ibán: Haha. When trekking I do like to make “offerings” to the places I visit. By this pagan/bread-esque offering I somehow summon all the energy of the place. Well, I said “somehow.”

Jeremy: Have you ever considered just opening a bakery? Going pro?

Ibán: Not really, I’m a home baker teaching home bakers and trying to spread the word of bread as widely as possible. I’ve visited many bakeries and seen their work. It’s something I could do, but I don’t think I’m interested enough.

Jeremy: Do you buy from bakeries anymore? Or just eat your own bread?

Ibán: Since 2005 I just buy bread out of pleasure, say to try this or that bakery when I’m told they’re worth it.

Jeremy: What is a spekulas sandwich? And what other sorts of combinations do you like with your bread?

Ibán: Ah, that’s a good one. Back in 1998 I spend some time working in a hotel in Amsterdam. The guy next door (a funny guy named Bas who played the trumpet and roller skated in the middle of the night to the hospital where he worked as an emergency anesthetist) told me about it. First I thought he was joking, but then I checked with other Dutch people to find he wasn’t kidding. I did try it and it was gorgeous. The spekulaas (spekulatius/speculoos for German/French/Belgian) is a crunchy biscuit, and just makes for a mind blowing experience when encased in two slices of fluffy white bread with plenty of butter. Do try it, believe me.

Jeremy: Who inspires you?

Ibán: People who are passionate and can see beyond flour and ferments. People who can see love inside a loaf of bread, like Dan Lepard. I’ve read a bunch of books about bread and met many bakers, but many speak solely about ingredients and crispy crusts; lately I’ve become a fan of the Swedish Martin Johansson (from the blog Pain de Martin) and the way he calls himself a “home baker”, hemmabagare.

Jeremy: Is Spain ready for the bread baking revival?

Ibán: I don’t actually mind if it’s ready or not (probably yes, provided it’s spread the right way), I simply think it NEEDS it!

Jeremy: Some people can teach bread. Personally, I am terrible at explaining it to people!) What is your secret?

Ibán: Well, I spent 5 years working as a guide at the Guggenheim Bilbao museum of contemporary art. After explaining abstract art for 1.5 hours to people from all over the world, everything else seems piece of cake.

Jeremy: How is the bread revival in Spain getting on?

Ibán: Really well, there’s more and more people baking, and good bread is getting more time and space in the news. Now we have to concentrate, otherwise we risk this becoming simply a trend or (worse) becoming something exclusive and reachable only by an elite.

 Jeremy: How are professional Spanish bakers taking to your teaching bread to the masses?

Ibán: I teach mostly to home bakers, although it’s not unusual to have pros on my classes; people who come are really nice and interested. I know of many bakers who see all this with suspicion. But I think we all better start to think that people just want better bread, and they will get it, whether from their bakers or their own ovens.

Jeremy: Is there a typical loaf in Spain?

Ibán: Spain is a big country when it comes to food, so the choice is big. Although it’s sad to realize that nowadays it’s becoming harder and harder to buy good bread in Spain. From the Pan de Cea in the Northwestern region of Galicia (a round plump loaf made the old way), to the many varieties of “pan sobado/bregado/candeal”, a sort of white loaf with a tight white crumb not unlike the French “pain brié” that can be found in central Spain, or the “pa de pagès” (country bread) from Catalonia, the little and soft “mollete” from Andalucia, or even the rustic and sturdy corn breads made traditionally in Northern Spain.

Jeremy: How do you keep all your projects going, El foro del Pan,Te quedas a cenar, La memoria del pan? Etc...and bicycling across Spain?

Ibán: Well, at the moment I have plenty of time (plus I don’t sleep much); but my idea is to launch nice projects, like “El foro del pan”, that can eventually live on their own without my input.

Jeremy: Bicycles and bread bakers, is it a zen thing? What is the correlation?

Ibán: More and more I do believe there is an inner relation between bike riding and bread baking. More specifically between sourdough baking and single speeding (or even riding fixed gear); the feeling of throwing away years of evolution to concentrate on the pure, simple pleasure. Also the sense of time, duration. Then if you build your own wheels I think everything somehow comes together. Oddly enough, I’ve met a bunch of people who seem to share the same feeling.

Got some old dough?

Old doughs- you have used them before, right? They're those hunks of dough laying in your fridge; the piece from a previous batch of dough left in an old ziploc bag or in a flour-and water-crusted jar, heaving with carbon dioxide bubbles trying to get out for some air. Often they do sneak or ooze out like b-movie creatures clinging to all parts of the fridge.

 

It's like what John Downes famously called, "satan's spawn." Yes, sometimes that old dough isn't a sure fire thing, wether it was created with a pinch of commercial yeast or natural sour. It's just too sour or too old. I can't say truly what is the golden rule to handling such a creature, but whether it was luck, skill, or perserverance, this weekend good things came despite old dough.

Specifically, I was working with a bit of old pizza dough in my fridge and with my usual starters in deep hibernation from lack of any feeding for more then a week. It seemed that there wasn't going to be any baking going on here. But the lazy baker in me was simultaneously lazy - not up to waiting for a refreshed  batch of levain - and simultaneously obsessed, nothing would stop me from my bake. Well, lo and behold, we got some bread!

Pre-ferment, old dough whatever you call it, some times it's the luck of the gods that are looking down on you. But beware. Satan's spawn could be lurking!

 

Bread baker, John Lennon

Today would have been John Lennnons 70th birthday and I was reminded that he wasn't only an incredible musician,activist, artist, etc., but a bread baker. His Playboy interview with David Scheff say's it all for me regarding bread. In an interview he even describes taking pictures of his first loaf, a true home baker!

Exerpt from Playboy interview with John Lennon (January 1981) by David Sheff:

LENNON: I've been baking bread and looking after the baby.

PLAYBOY: With what secret projects going on in the basement?

LENNON: That's like what everyone else who has asked me that question over the last few years says. "But what else have you been doing?" To which I say, "Are you kidding?" Because bread and babies, as every housewife knows, is a full-time job. After I made the loaves, I felt like I had conquered something. But as I watched the bread being eaten, I thought, Well, Jesus, don't I get a gold record or knighted or nothing?

 

 

Soups on!

My wife is a wonderful cook, but over the years I have been in the kitchen doing most of the cooking. For some reason she's given up the mantle of "haus frau."  Okay, it's not a great title, but what's with her excuse for not cookng? Well,her refrain is "the time to prepare, the mess, and hell, you're a chef. You cook!"

Now that the weather is starting to feel a bit on the chilly side, it's time for some more comfort sorts of dinners. Soup is one of her favorites and mine as well.

Recently she learned the secret recipe for chicken soup also known as NY peniccilin. But one minor detail, turkey has taken the place of the other bird...and let me tell you, it's good stuffed at Thanksgiving, but really good as a soup too.

This particular soup was just a basic veg and chicken (whoops, turkey) thing, but we upped the ante with a virtual sancocho embellishment of yuca, plantain, corn and lots of good seasoning...

Welcome to fall and make some soup while your at it!

Zwetschken Kuchen

As some past posts make clear, I have a certain affinity for plums. Visiting my sister in Switzerland, welcome the never ending baskets full of them. And while they're delicious freshly picked off a tree, or distilled into schnapps, my preference is to put them in a tart. Give me a plum kuchen and I am like a fish on a hook!

For a while now, I have been trying to tap into Wolfgang Süpke's great breads. Somehow I overlooked some of his pastry offerings, like delectably delicious looking mohnkuchen and of course  his latest, zwetchken Kuchen with oil! Something you can do with plums.

This weekend has perfect days for baking. And plums were the perfect fruit for this perfect day. Some a bit sour, others just on the cusp of sweetness.

Wouldn't you know it, I was missing an ingredient. Namely, the cornstarch to sprinkle under the plums so the juices that oozed out would thicken. I adapted and added almond flour as a stratified layer of luciousness that mingled with sugar and cinnamon. Oh my! Sehr lecker!

If it isn't Luther brot or Schwarzer Hamsterbrot, I am sure I will be digging into this repertoire of German baker's fantastic recipes and hopefully try to learn some German along the way!