Bison + Been Busy

It's been a crazy autumn. But now that Daylight Savings has kicked in, and the sun is going down at 4:30 in the afternoon, no one on the East Coast will ever leave the apartment again. Including me.

Anyway, I honestly and truly cooked the bison pictured above -- kosher and procured from Wegman's (what don't they sell?). Though it must be said that the store's excesses of the Christmas season are a bit loathsome -- the kosher deli counter is the only part of the Dewitt store that isn't festooned with wreaths, ornaments, and the like.

Then again, they have a kosher deli.

To cook the bison, faithful companion diced garlic (several cloves per steak) and tossed on some soy sauce. The demands of such starving creatures as this one



forbade long marinating.

No matter; it tasted great nevertheless.

Directions

Broil for five or so minutes per side; serve with roasted squash and wilted greens.
Change into stretchy waistband pants.
Repeat the next time you have 30 bucks to spend on meat.

One Cake, Two Ways: Sour Cream Coffee Cake

Growing up, we visited with my father's relatives almost every weekend. These visits revolved around eating. On some visits -- if the cake, lunch, snacks and treats weren't enough -- my great uncle would send us home with a sour cream coffee cake, carefully wrapped in foil, and tucked neatly into an empty cereal box.

This, along with his vegetable soup, was one of his iconic recipes. No one knew how to make it.

Going through his apartment this past fall, I looked for recipes. I found a few of them -- though not for the soup, which he'd learned to make in the Russian army. There were variations on variations on variations for the sour cream cake -- handwritten and clipped from the New York Times Magazine, among other publications. Of course, the handwritten version lacks any direction; it's a list of ingredients only.



This past Yom Kippur, I made two versions of the cake. One came out super flat and buttery -- that was the New York Times's version. The other, pictured above, was puffy the first day, but sank somewhat the next. Partly that's because it calls for baking powder and baking soda, but also because I substituted tofu for some the sour cream. The point is, both versions were tasty, but need further refining -- especially as I'm trying to turn this parve.

Stay tuned for further experiments with the sour cream cake this fall. The roadblock -- as with all cooking experiments -- is that one must literally eat one's experiments. (My faithful companion/photographer isn't one to shy away from dessert -- this is the person who orders six (6!) cider donuts at a time, and finishes them on the way home -- but even he has his limits.)

Batter:
2 cups flour
1 cup sugar
1/4 cup butter
2 eggs
1/2 pint sour cream (** I substituted soft tofu for part of this)
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp vanilla

Topping:
1/2 cup crumbled walnuts
1/2 tsp cinnamon
1/4 cup sugar

Directions:

Combine dry ingredients

In a separate bowl, cream the butter and sugar. When well blended -- you can do this by hand, people -- add eggs and vanilla.

Add about half the dry ingredients to the butter, sugar, egg, and vanilla. Stir. Then add part of the sour cream. Alternate between the sour cream and the dry ingredients until it's all mixed together.

Butter a 9 1/2 x 11 inch baking dish; pour in the batter.

For the toppping, combine the nuts, cinnamon, and sugar, and spread evenly over the top.

Bake at 350 for 40 minutes (ish) -- but keep your eye on it, and be sure to take it out of the oven as soon as a testing fork comes out clean.

Chana Punjabi; Kosher Ghee = Glee

I am not going to lie.

This summer and autumn have been busy as all get out.

For Yom Kippur -- that is, to break the fast on Yom Kippur -- I'll be preparing my great uncle's famous sour cream cake. (Recipe TK.)

For now, exciting news in hecshered land: Purity Farms makes organic, kosher ghee -- which is pretty readily available in any good-sized supermarket, or via the Internet. Even more exciting: I recently bought some.

I can't wait to use it to cook the New York Times's recipe for Chana Punjabi, which the Grey Lady ran back in March 2009 (Elaine Louie adapted it from Heather Carlucci-Rodriguez at Lassi, a shoebox-sized restaurant on Greenwich Ave in the Village. I used to go there all the time during graduate school, and the food is delicious.)

Here is my version:

Ingredients

1 tablespoon butter or ghee
1 medium onion, chopped
2 teaspoons minced garlic
1 teaspoon minced ginger
1 16 oz can tomatoes
1 1/2 teaspoons paprika
1 teaspoon salt, or as needed
1 teaspoon ground coriander
1/2 teaspoon garam masala
1/4 teaspoon turmeric
1 teaspoon freshly squeezed lemon juice OR champagne vinegar
2 15-ounce cans chickpeas, drained
2 tablespoons minced cilantro

Sides: yogurt, rice

Directions

1. In a medium saucepan over medium-low heat, heat oil and add onion. Sauté until translucent and soft, about 5 minutes. Add garlic, ginger and chili, and sauté until soft and fragrant, about 3 minutes. Add tomatoes. Cover and cook until tomatoes are very soft, about 5 minutes, then remove from heat.

2. Purée mixture -- I use an immersion blender -- then add paprika, 1 teaspoon salt, coriander, the garam masala, turmeric and lemon juice/vinegar. Add chickpeas and bring to a boil, then reduce heat to low.

3. Cook for 5-10 minutes; add the cilantro. Remove from heat and enjoy!

Borscht by Choice

photo courtesy joe lingeman. **we ate the soup before we took the picture.

Friday night, I did the unthinkable.

I made borscht.

By choice.

Worse, I made my boyfriend eat it.

For Shabbos.

Having recently reinstalled myself in the great white north, and anticipating the famously long and cold winters, I decided to experiment with this oft-dreaded dish.

I followed the Bittman recipe, which calls for boiling three pounds of chopped beets and one onion in six cups of water.

After the mixture softens, Bittman says to beat in two eggs. I used one. Then he says to add the juice of one whole lemon.

I upped the acid Bittman suggested, using champagne vinegar instead of lemon juice alone. I also served it with mini creamer potatoes and sour cream mixed with champagne vinegar and dill.

On the next go-round, I'm going to experiment with adding turnips to the broth. And I'll serve it warm, instead of as a vichyssoise. I'm also thinking -- per the advice of my collaborator and friend -- to substitute the traditional potatoes with a blue cheese crostini.

I'm also thinking about putting horseradish (homemade, from the root) into the stock. Is this suicide? Or worth a shot?

Long, Strange Trip + turkey kebabs and mint chutney

It wasn't strange at all, or very long. I journeyed, among other places, to the land of Lewis and Clark. This was pretty thrilling for someone who grew up playing the Oregon Trail video game at day camp.

Anyway, prior to this, I held my first Brooklyn Test Kitchen: Cheeseburger-a-thon at my apartment. The goal was to create a beef burger with blue cheese. The result was a turkey kebab with a strange cheese "sauce." Or rather, because the cheese was parve -- made with vegan ingredients -- a "cheese" sauce. Also, because it was the nine days -- the period of time before Tisha B'Av, a mournful day of fasting on the Hebrew calendar, and a time when one typically, or traditionally, does not eat meat -- I couldn't find beef anywhere in all of Brooklyn. Only ground turkey.

In the end, I made delicious kebabs, served with sour cream and mint chutney. The kebabs, or sausages, are quite hearty and delicious, and taste like red meat (but for way less calories or environmental impact, for that matter). The "cheese" sauce is still in the test area; I'm going to experiment with nutritional yeast for the next go-round.

Kebabs/Sausage Patties

1 pound ground turkey
1 egg
2 - 3 cloves garlic, chopped
1/2 onion, chopped
handful minced dill
handful minced chives
pinch ground ginger
2 tbs (or more) chicken curry (powdered)
1/4 cup breadcrumps (optional -- for a Pesach version, leave it out; the worcestershire sauce too)
splash worcstershire sauc

Mix all of those ingredients in a bowl -- but do not overmix. Then form into very small - about 1.5 - 2 inch patties -- and grill, either outside, on a stove-top pan, or in the broiler. Truly delicious. I served them with Tofutti sour cream, which is parve. To go with it, you can also whip up a super fast mint chutney.

Chutney courtesy Epicurious.com
1 cup packed fresh mint leaves
4 scallions, coarsely chopped
1 small fresh green serrano chile, coarsely chopped (1 to 1 1/2 teaspoons), including seeds
1 large garlic clove, chopped
1/4 cup fresh lime juice
2 tablespoons water
2 teaspoons sugar
3/4 teaspoon ground cumin
3/4 teaspoon salt

Blend ingredients a food processor, and you're done.

The take-home of the whole event was that cooking is so much like writing. You think you're going to make one thing, and in the end it's something else. The trick of it is to figure out what you've done, and what to do with it.

Brief Interviews With Hideous Recipes

Dahl and paneer, courtesy of Mrigaa Sethi.

Dahl
Directions
Boil some dahl (lentils) and water (roughly 1:3 ratio) with turmeric and salt, and once it's turned into a nice loose porridge-like consistency, after about 15-20 minutes, heating ghee, cumin, garlic, and hot paprika in a small pan and tossing it over the dahl makes the whole thing BLOOM! Et voila. Eat with rice and yogurt (see if you can find an organic brand, without stabilizers), and you have a delicious, quick, and protein-rich meal.

Paneer
Directions
You'll need a cheesecloth, and you can find one easily at most food stores. Make sure it's a fine mesh, not one with giant holes.

Bring your desired volume of whole milk (half-gallon? quarter-gallon?) to a slow boil, and as it begins to rise, pour two tablespoons of vinegar into it. The milk and the whey will begin to separate immediately.

Add another tablespoon of vinegar if you think you need to -- eyeballing is a valuable skill in all cooking! -- and once you have this fluffy, beautiful white stuff, drain it into your cheese cloth, squeeze out the water, and wash out the vinegar. This is paneer.

You can cook the paneer as-is, with cumin, turmeric, triumvirate of spices, chopped onions and tomatoes.

If you want a block of paneer instead, tie up the cheese cloth tight and place a weight (I use a pot full of water) on it. In two or three hours, you'll have a solid brick.

Brief Interviews With Hideous Men No. 1

My father used to say that only in India would people understand why, if you put a little bit of cheese into an enormous vat of meat, you have to throw the whole thing away. It's because the country's Hindus, Jains, Buddhists, and Muslims get the concept of religiously-mandated eating. Also helpful: so much Indian food adheres to the regulations of kashrut. And given the recent opening of a fleishik Indian restaurant in Teaneck, not to mention the many vegan yogurts and milk products that make it possible to cook chicken tikka masala, it seems that kosher Indian food is having a bit of a renaissance.

To that end, I interviewed Mrigaa Sethi, a cook, writer, and teacher who grew up in India and Thailand. Mrigaa came to the U.S. for college, and presently lives in Park Slope, Brooklyn. She holds degrees from Emerson College and the M.F.A. program at New York University, and she is one hell of a cook. Lucky for us, she shared tips about cooking Indian food with ease and a few of her favorite recipes. This is part 1 of 2 installments.

Who taught you to cook?

My mother, of course! Though if you ask her, she'll say having me in the kitchen still makes her crazy! She gets anxious watching me wield a knife with my left hand!

Seriously, though, at home I was never expected to learn these things -- none of that "you must learn to cook for your husband" stuff. But after a year away at college in America, trekking out in the snow for mediocre $13 curries, I came home and seemed to pick up my basics in just a couple of months. These days my mother imparts recipes and ideas over the phone, or even via G-chat.

Can you could suggest some typical and simple Indian recipes?

There is an impression out there that Indian food is laborious and technically complicated, but it's not -- unless you hate chopping vegetables.

It doesn't get any more basic than dahl (lentil soup). It's the anchor of every meal. In India, dahl is even used as a symbol of any kind of food, a la "All I want in life is dahl and roti and someone to love." The yellow (split mung) dahl is easy, versatile, and absurdly flavourful.



My other answer is paneer (or Indian "cottage cheese" -- it's only the appearance that's similar, so don't substitute). People recognize paneer from restaurants, but it's possibly even easier to make than dahl.



Top three ingredients any amateur cook of Indian food needs in her kitchen.

I could write a whole cookbook around the blessed triumvirate of cumin (zeera), turmeric (haldi), and hot paprika (deghi mirch) -- if you don't want the whole thing turning bright red, however, replace with coarsely ground red chili powder. I'm still amazed at the range of flavours and dishes these spices are able to churn out. They really enhance the individual properties of whatever produce you're working with.

Technically speaking, is there anything absolutely vital to do when preparing Indian food? I've read that sauteeing the spices separately, then adding to the main dish, is key. True?

That's a great tip!

Have you got others?

1. Grind your own garam masala. Super easy in a coffee grinder -- just clean it out by grinding stale bread before and after, and wiping down with a damp cloth.

2. Sometimes my mother toasts cumin seeds until they're nearly black (tread with caution!) and grinds them coarsely (with a rolling pin, say).

3. Add a generous sprinkle of toasted cumin to some beaten yogurt with grated cucumbers and salt. Homemade raita -- a savory yogurt, with variations (cucumbers, boiled potatoes, onions and tomatoes), added to one's plate at the table.

3. After-you-turn-off-the-stove additions: cilantro, green chillies (get the tiny, short, bird-beak looking ones from an Asian market), or even a teaspoon of vinegar, in some cases.

Macromamas' tasty treats

So I've got to give a shout out to the Ithaca-based Macromamas, which is hands-down the most delicious hippie food I've ever eaten. Totally macro, totally vegetarian, totally kosher.
The peanut lime noodles can't be beat. The recipe is secret, but here is what I've been able to piece together. I need to work a bit more on the proportions, but this should work:

Several pounds soba noodles, preferably whole wheat
3 tbs Peanut butter (smooth, not chunky; whatever kind of natural, organic brand suits your fancy)
2 tbs pickled ginger, finely chopped
2 tbs lime juice
2 tbs rice vinegar
2 tbs chili sauce
2 tbs sesame oil
3 carrots, grated
3 scallions, green parts only, finely cut
1 bunch parsley, chopped
salt and pepper to taste

Cook noodles according to package instructions. Drain and set aside. Combine wet ingredients, add to noodles. Then add carrots, scallions, and parsley. DEVOUR.

Parve BBQ + delicious potato salad

A good friend of mine from college once told me that her grandmother made the world's best potato salad. Her secret? After frying up the bacon, she poured the grease from the pan INTO the salad - instead of pouring it down the drain or whatever it is bacon-eaters do to be rid of the stuff.

Amazing, no? Especially when used in addition to mayo?


Kind of stretches the definition of salad. But I hear it's delicious. *By the way, that's bacon, not an anchovy.

Anyway, the Barefoot Contessa has some great suggestions on how to make a non-mayo, non-baconified salad, which was apparently influenced by Julia Child. You can bring it to a totally kosher bbq, because the version below is parve (though Barefoot Contessa's is fleishich). I've modified it for taste, fatness, and budgetary constraints. If you prefer a more-tangy recipe, up the mustard and the white wine. Also, if you don't have champagne vinegar on hand, feel free to skip, and substitute lemon juice or more wine. By the way, this is a great way to use up any Tishbi or Baron Herzog you have lying around -- or to get rid of the bottle your mother-in-law brought over for Shabbos, because you'd rather drink (traif) Sancerre.

• A few pounds red potatos (the regular-sized ones are fine)
• 2 tbs Champagne vinegar
• 2 tbs vegetable stock - try Osem or any other brand
• 3 tbs dry white wine
• 2 tbs mustard
• Bunch of fresh dill
• Basil, if you have a fresh bunch on hand
• 10 tbs good olive oil
• one bunch scallions
• a couple handfuls snap peas

Boil the potatoes, but not within an inch of their life. Chop roughly. Toss with white wine and vegetable stock while the potatoes are still warm. Osem is not the most delicious, but it's way cheaper than Pacific or Imagine. And it comes in a powder form, so you don't have to worry about using up the quart left over from a recipe that calls for only two tablespoons of stock.

Mix the remaining wet ingredients as you would any dressing; pour over the potatoes. Chop up the scallions, snap peas (these are delicious raw), dill, and basil, if you have it. Add salt and pepper to taste.

OMG, I can't stop with the ghee

Ghee is clarified butter, and it is fundamental to delicious Indian food. It gives everything - rice, veggies, whatever - the aromatic smell and flavor that you get walking into an Indian restaurant. It's available in cow-based (traif) and veggie versions, though the vegetarian stuff doesn't have a hekscher - at least not at Kalustyans, where I do my Indian shopping. I have a good friend in India, a journalist, so for those of you who won't cook without a heksher - or who are interested in preparing the ultimate loophole-busting dish (chicken tikka masala!) for your most observant friends - stay tuned for what she turns up about kosher ghee.

In the meantime, a delicious recipe adapted from Heaven's Banquet,

4 tbs ghee OR ANY NEUTRAL OIL - like canola oil (if this needs to be hekshered)
2 tbs fresh ginger, fresh
2 tsp cumin
1 medium eggplant, peeled and cut into cubes
4 potatoes, peeled and cut into cubes
salt
2 tsp turmeric
4 chopped tomatoes
2 cans (16 oz each) chickpeas
1 bunch fresh cilantro, chopped

In a saucepan, heat the ghee, then add the ginger and cumin. Add the tomatoes, then the eggplant and potatoes. Saute for 5 minutes, stirring constantly. Add the salt and turmeric. Cook for anywhere from 45 minutes to 1.5 hours - depending on the size of the cubed potatoes, which take awhile to cook. I'm pretty lazy about this (more of a rough chopper than a fine dicer), but this dish is really delicious the longer it cooks, so that the eggplant almost caramelizes. Even people who hate eggplant will enjoy.
Before you serve, add the chickpeas and clinatro. Serve with yogurt.