Epic Fail

Okay, so I never made an after-Thanksgiving post. Thanksgiving was a bit of a letdown, predictably, because the speech-impeded screams of toddlers had me so frazzled that I fucked up three of my side dishes and by the time I even got to sit down to eat they were already up from the dinner table, running around and demanding to be taken home. Sigh.

I forgot to parcook the sweet potatoes, so they never got soft and as a result, the custard couldn't set up in the center. My stuffing and haricots verts were prepared hours ahead of time (thought I was being clever), and the re-heat in the oven did them no favors. Sigh.

The turkey was really good, though, but I got only one photo, of the confit:


So now the exciting news: our basement flooded this morning from all the rain we've been getting (which hasn't actually been that much, all things considered). It didn't come in from the walls or anything, but from the fucking ground water. The water table rose so much that it percolated up through a crack in the concrete (near the furnace) and flowed in beneath the carpet across the floor. The carpet was all saturated this morning and after work we had to move all of our bajillion boxes of crap and tear up the carpet, then mop up the nasty sog and then turn the fans on. The only thing that smells worse than old, dried-up cat piss is moldy ground water-refreshed cat piss.

Then, THEN I found this horrifying creature which I have only been able to surmise resembles a huge termite:


WHAT THE FUCK. What in the holy fuck is this thing. Why does it think it belongs in my basement. Its abdomen rears up like a scorpion's tail when it's threatened.

And I have epic cramps. Fuck this noise. Fuck it, I say!

Thanksgiving and Other Considerations

This morning I made some delicious homemade biscuits with chanterelle-sausage gravy. I'd used up all of my chanterelles shortly after my last post, but then found more while in the field on Friday. By the time I found them, I wasn't sick of them anymore.


This year Thanksgiving will be at our place, our first holiday in the new(ish) house! I'm spending a bit of time trying to learn how to bone out a turkey. If it works, I will have the advantage of a) having my carcass pre-roasted and stock pre-made for gravies and such a day early; b) I can remove the legs for a two-hour bath in the liquid gold that is duck fat (the confit last year was to die for); and c) the breasts can be seasoned, stuffed and tied 2 different ways!! This way I can do a simple, traditional one for my non-culinary (read: white trash) family and a fancy one for me, Scott and Scott's bro the chef.

We're having the whole gang here this year, including the toddlers. We will have all four nieces and nephews, the oldest of whom is 3 (and if isn't actually autistic then at least has severe developmental and behavioral problems). The other ones are pretty well-behaved and won't throw a shit fit if they have to eat something besides Eazy Mac, so maybe I won't hafta choke a kid.

This year's menu doesn't stray far from last year's, except that this year not all of my sides will be based on custard or béchamel. Just two of them, and dessert.

The menu:

Roasted Turkey Breast Two Ways: Orange-Bourbon Glazed and with Herbed Butter (à laKiev)
Legs Confit
Chanterelle-Sausage Dressing
Cranberry-Orange Chutney
Mashed Yukon Golds with Rosemary Gravy
Sweet Potatoes in Sage and Nutmeg Custard
Haricots Verts au Gratin
Swiss Chard with Citrus Zest and Bacon
Cranberry Brioche
Chai-Spiced Crème Brûlée with Hazelnut Praline

I think I might take a half-day on Wednesday to get some prep done. I really can't wait to get started! I will be sure to take pictures.

Buffalo-Chanterelle Empanadas with Mole

A recurring theme is emerging: too many chanterelles, plus an impending frost that requires me to pull my millions of tomatoes while still green, equals chanterelles and green tomatoes going into damn near every dish these days. They taste good together, though, so I guess I win. And it forces creativity, since I can never let a single thing go to waste (and no one wants to take any green tomatoes off my hands).

I sometimes feel like the Little Red Hen (or some other storybook martyr), trying desperately to convince my neighbors and coworkers to take some (insert surplus item here). They always politely refuse, saying they don't know how they'd use (surplus item). When I tell them they could very easily make (A), (B), or (C) with it, all very delicious! they admit that they in fact don't actually care much for (surplus item). However! If I bring over some little yummeh (such as (A)) made with (surplus item) they greedily help themselves and have to confess that they didn't actually know that (surplus item) could be so good, because they'd only had it improperly prepared as (D) or (E) by their unskilled mothers/wives or had never even heard of it before!!

People can be so lazy and uninspired when faced with daunting surplus items, but I refuse to be one of them! So here is yet another use for chanterelles and green tomatoes.

(I listed out the recipes in order of when they should be made. Since the dough needs to sit in the fridge for an hour, it buys you time to get everything else ready.)


Empanada Dough
Yes, I culled the dough recipe from Joy of Cooking, since I don't have an abuelita to show me these things. Sigh.

3 c all-purpose flour (I used whole wheat, and it was fine)
1 1/2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp salt
10 tbsp (1 1/4 sticks) cold unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
1/2 c lard or vegetable shortening (I used shortening, which worked great)
11 to 13 tbsp ice water

This is way easier if you use a food processor! In fact, I'm not even gonna bother with the other directions.

Combine dry ingredients in food processor and pulse a few times to mix. Add butter and lard or shortening and pulse until mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Transfer mixture to large bowl and sprinkle water over the top.

Mix gently with a fork until dough is damp enough to gather into a ball. Shape into a flat disk and wrap tightly with plastic wrap. Fridge for an hour.


Mole de Gringa
My mole is slightly non-traditional (no tortillas in it), but it has a smooth texture and tastes pretty convincing.

2 c chicken stock
5 large dried chiles (I use a combo of pasilla, California pod and ancho), seeded and stemmed
5 sun-dried tomatoes
2 cloves garlic, peeled
1 bay leaf
1/4 c pepitas (pumpkin seeds)
1 tsp. cumin seed, lightly toasted
1" piece of cinnamon stick
1/2 tsp. unsweetened cocoa powder*
salt to taste
sugar to taste (if the mole is a tad bitter, a wee spoonful helps)

*In a pinch I once used a coupla squares of Dagoba Xocolatl chocolate bar, which is 75% cacao and has lovely bits of cacao nib and chile flake. It was really good!

In a small pot, bring chicken stock to the boil. Add chiles, sun-dried tomatoes, garlic and bay leaf, and turn off heat. Lid the pot and leave to sit 10 or 15 minutes until the chiles and tomatoes are softened. Meanwhile, toast cinnamon and cumin in small pan over medium heat until fragrant, and grind to a fine powder in a mortar and pestle or spice grinder.

Remove bay leaf from stock-chile pot, and puree until smooth. Pass through a fine-mesh sieve, scraping the flesh through with a rubber spatula or wooden spoon. Return mix to blender and add pepitas. Blend until smooth again. Return mix to pot over low heat. Add cinnamon, cumin, cocoa, salt and sugar (if needed) and simmer for about 5 minutes or so to let the flavors meld.

I've never had any leftover, but I'd suppose it keeps for about a week in the fridge or a few months in the freezer. This mole is the base for my chicken enchilada soup. It is also nearly fat free (except for the pepitas)! So you might wanna add a scant teaspoon or two of a nutty oil to round out the flavor if using it directly as sauce.


Empanada Filling
I omit the raisins and olives, 'cuz there's just enough going on in here already.

1/2 lb. ground buffalo
2 roasted poblano chiles, peeled, seeded and chopped
1 c diced potato (I used 3 fingerlings)
1 c diced onion
1 c diced green tomato
2 c chopped or shredded chanterelles
1 tsp cumin
1/2 tsp garlic powder
1/4 tsp cinnamon
1 tsp. Mexican oregano
S&P
1/4 c mole
1/4 c cotija (queso seco) or I guess you could use ricotta salata or some other dry white cheese
1/2 c chopped cilantro

Brown buffalo in a medium skillet (with a little olive oil) over medium-high heat. Transfer to a bowl when browned. In the same pan, saute onions, potatoes, poblanos and tomatoes for about 10 minutes. Pan will be a bit sticky, but just add the chanterelles and the juices they release will deglaze the pan nicely. Season with the cumin, garlic powder, cinnamon, oregano and S&P. Simmer down for a few, stirring now and again.

Add the cooked buffalo back to the pan, and the mole. After a minute add the queso and the cilantro, stir, and turn off the heat.

By now, hopefully, it's been an hour and that dough is ready. (It shouldn'tve really taken that long to make the mole and filling, though, so you might just need to have a little glass of wine and clean up your kitchen to kill the last 15 or 20 minutes.)

Assembly:

Heat oven to 400F.

Divide dough into quarters. Roll out each dough chunk 1/8" thick and cut out 6" rounds. I just cut around a saucer to do this.* You'll have to re-roll scraps to get approximately 10-12 rounds.

Brush the edges with a little eggwash (1 egg beaten with 1 tbsp milk), and add about 1/4 c filling to one side of the round, then fold closed and use a fork around the edges to gently seal (and give a pretty effect). Poke a few fork holes in the top to vent, and place on a cookie sheet. Repeat for the rest, spacing them 2". Brush the tops with remaining eggwash.

Bake until browned, like 15 minutes. It took longer to write this post than to make the damn things. Serve with mole, maybe some cilantro and sour cream if you like.


*Later, Scott said maybe little 2 bite-sized ones would be pretty great like as appies, in which case you could use a 4" cookie cutter and just like 2 tbsp or so of filling in each.

I totally forgot to make my fried plantains to go with these beauties, so it's a good thing I still have some leftover filling. Tacos and fried plantains for dinner tonight!

Ragout de Lapin Braisé aux Chanterelles

I so totally don't speak French, except when it comes to food (hell, if you want to count food words, I speak like 14 languages).

I cooked that bunneh that I bought in Centralia. And btw, I never got the motivation to make a roulade. Instead, I made a cop-out ragout. It's funny, after braising it for two hours I didn't even feel like eating it anymore. It coulda been that Scott and I spent an hour grazing on the pear and rosemary focaccia that I made as an intended accompaniment, heh.

So after those leeks were well-nigh melted, the chanterelles all juicy and toothsome and the rabbit was all tender, I turned off the heat and fridged it overnight.

Tragically, I lacked the energy or enthusiasm to prepare papardelle from scratch (and I had only whole-wheat flour in the pantry, which I had only last week been chagrined to learn turns into the densest, chewiest spaetzle ever), so we settled for store-bought fresh linguine from Pastaworks.

Ragout de Lapin Braisé aux Chanterelles (serves 2 generously)

2 tbsp chopped pancetta or bacon
2 tbsp olive oil
1/2 rabbit fryer, with kidneys and liver if possible (this ends up being half a saddle, a hind quarter and a shoulder)
1 lb. chanterelle mushrooms, washed and sliced or broken into bite-sized pieces
1/2 large leek, sliced very thin
2 tbsp minced shallot
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 sprig rosemary
1 sprig thyme
fat pinch kosher salt
buncha cracks of pepper
3 or 4 cups homemade chicken stock (or the kind in a box, if you must)
1 cup white wine
coupla sprigs Italian parsley, chopped coarsely
1/2 lb fresh papardelle, tagliatelle (or linguine if you can't get the other, or don't feel like making it from scratch)
(okay, I know my mise-en-place photo shows baby courgettes and pattypans, but I didn't end up using these in the end and opted for a bit of baby spinach to green things up instead. I still have so many of these coming out of the garden and had good intentions, but it was so much easier to just toss in some greens when it was all done.)

Over medium heat in a heavy-bottomed pot, render pancetta in olive until the bits are browned. Add rabbit and mushrooms, leeks, shallots and garlic and saute until rabbit is browned evenly. Add garlic, rosemary and thyme, and rabbit organs (if they were included; chopped) and saute for another 5 minutes. Add S&P and stock and wine (liquids should pretty much completely cover rabbit). Simmer over low heat, stirring and basting every 20 minutes or so, for about two hours.

When bunny is tender and leeks are practically liquefied, remove rabbit from the pot and crank up the heat until the stock reduces to a thick, sauce-like consistency. Pick rabbit meat from the bones while this is happening (after it cools enough to handle).

While sauce is reducing, boil pasta to a notch before al dente. Strain and add to sauce. Add bunny and parsley and toss. If you're using a bit of spinach or whatever add it now, too, so it can wilt a bit. It's done when the pasta is perfect. Plate and top with a shitload of parm. Serve with a French white wine such as Clos Roche Blanche.

Golden Trumpets

Mushroom hunting season is officially upon us, and last weekend we scored about a metric ton of chanterelles. Whee!

I also found my first-ever cauliflower mushroom. I had never seen one before, but thought it looked like it would be tasty so I picked it and identified it using a book back at the car.

If I look like hell, it's because I was still covered with spider webs and adrenaline sweat from having been nailed by an angry hornet. Tammy spotted the nest first (conveniently located plumb in the middle of the first motherlode patch of the day), but I was too greedy to move from the spot. TANG! right in the forehead, the little fucker came right at me, and I bolted like a clumsy cheetah which actually sucked the bee right into the sleeve of my jacket. The trapped and confused hornet stung me in the armpit, and my shoulder and pec started burning and throbbing. I'm not allergic to bee stings, but I still broke out in a greasy stress-sweat and my heart started racing from all the ado.

But that's all neither here nor there. The important thing is that we scored a shitload of mushrooms in a pleasant 2-hour stroll through a mossy western hemlock forest, and it didn't even rain.

That night I prepared an erratic feast. I made cabernet-braised oxtails; fingerling potatoes sauteed with pancetta, chanterelles and cauliflower mushroom, baby arugula and thyme; and a nice salad of mixed baby greens, toasted hazelnuts, forelle pears and gorgonzola with a fig-balsamic vinaigrette. Yes, it was a strange combination for sure (red wine braise and white wine in the potato-mushroom ragout? Am I CrAzY?), but it tasted pretty good.

Last week I was working in Centralia, Washington, which has a cute little meat market rumored to have elk sausage. I stopped in, but they didn't have any elk yet (boo), so I picked up a coupla German-style fresh sausage and a some rabbits. The bunnies were from Nicky USA (a Portland game and exotic meats purveyor), so I figured it was probably safe.

Last night I prepared the sausages with a hash of baby sweet potatoes, green tomatoes (from the garden) and chanterelles with thyme and a little hit of nutmeg. The sweet potatoes didn't crisp up the way I wanted (they always stick to the pan), but it was still really good. The tartness of the green tomatoes complimented the sweetness of the potatoes, which in turn complimented the earthiness of the mushrooms. And sausage really just compliments everything.

Man, I really need to work on my food photography. Today I joked with Tammy that I should build a little porn studio for my food, like with red velvet curtains and soft lights and all that. The main problem is that by the time I have dinner ready, it's really dark out and since we are doing our part to reduce the CO2 footprint, our lighting is of the compact fluorescent variety. I'll keep working on it.

Tonight I'm going to cook the bunny. I have a vision of a kale and parm-stuffed roulade (sliced into perfect medallions) in a translucent chanterelle broth with some pretty tortellini. I'm not sure if my skills are there yet, but I guess I'll find out.

I Have No Runcible Spoon

But I do have so many quinces that I can't possibly use them all. I implore you to contact me if you want any!

The Quince Tree I Forgot to Mention

I have just come to discover that the "apple" tree in our back yard has been quietly bearing quinces unbeknownst to me. Since this is our first harvest season at the house, I had been scratching my head all summer about the strange fruit that looks like an apple with a pear-like protuberance at the stem, but is covered in scurfy pubescence and has a particularly sepalous blossom end (getting all botanical on yo' ass). I tasted one the other night and was delighted at the fragrant, tart apple-y flavor, but assumed they weren't ripe due to the exceedingly hard flesh. Turns out she was a quince all along. Silly quince!

Tonight I will roast a few and make some quince paste, my favorite accompaniment to manchego. Then I will happily curl my toes and peruse my archives for other recipes. I'm thinking a tarte tatin or a gallette with black cardamom-vanilla syrup. Mmmmm...

...and we're back! Part 2: Engrish and Other Funny

I guess since the last post was 'Part 1' I left myself the responsibility of making another one, even though there's not much else to share except the random Japanese cuteness and Rost in Transrations that provided unlimited entertainment. However, it is Sunday evening, and I have a pot of soup on the stove, so this will smack a bit of half-assedness.

At any rate, here it is.

Delicious $5 sushi in a department store basement, made only hours earlier from fish caught that day. Juxtaposed by...

$30 grapes. I mean, they were tasty, but $30?

"Oh you are, are you?"

Onigiri truly is filled with Mother Love.

A storefront in Akihabara

As if the cuteness of the storefront wasn't enough, here is a random sidewalk, also in Akihabara. I love robots.

Over-Under on Threadless making this a t-shirt design? The sign warns against going into the train tracks to retrieve items, and is one of the coolest I've seen.

Super Potato, where we picked up vintage games that were never released in the US (and will never really be able to play since we can't read Kanji or Katakana, but whatevs). I never really do the peace sign in photos (or ever), but "when in Rome," I guess. I love how my bag matches the entire store.

Oh, Mr. Donut. How do I love thee? Let me count the ways...

We saw these cigarette girls standing and talking to whom we assume is their boss/pimp, and when I asked "shashin o totte mo i desu ka?" ("may I take a photo?") they looked at each other nervously, then looked at their boss/pimp, and he says to me in English, "yes, it's okay". They instantly switched to "on" and posed for me.

It wasn't the only one I saw, but it was definitely the biggest. And at least it was the outside of the window.

Get crunk. Ice for your grill not included.


This one doesn't really need an explanation, methinks.

Meh, I guess that's it. I'm a bit tired of looking at/explaining all of these photos by now anyway, and I still hafta put together a PowerPoint for work.

...and we're back! Part 1: A Gastronomic Survey

Wow, what a whirlwind. We got home Sunday morning at around 9:00am, and since we'd been tying one on while enduring the 10 hour flight, we saw fit to keep drinking until we fell asleep (oh, don't look at me like that - it was midnight our time). We slept off and on all day, periodically taking breaks from napping to order a pepperoni pizza and hot wings from Rovente's, and then to wander over to the Stone for some Maker's and Diet Cokes with a plate of nachos the size of a toddler. Norman Rockwell's America, it was.

Not that we had been desperately missing western food - I mean, the food in Japan was fucking amazing. Sure, we had a coupla duds (fast food and some bar food failed us - why am I not surprised?), but one place was so great that we even went back a second time on our last night.

Honjin looked like a little hole-in-the-wall from the outside (it was in an alley), but was our first exposure to sitting on the floor, shoes-off dining and to motsunabe - a hotpot of cabbage, scallions, tofu and some grisly nasty bits of chicken. The first night we went (our second night in Tokyo) we were undaunted by the katakana-only menu and simply said, "omakase shimasu" ("we're in your hands").

The guy ended up bringing us 6 different things:

Clockwise from the top:
nankotsu sumibiyaki - charcoal-grilled chicken breast and crunchy cartilage, smoky and delicious.
hakata hitokuti gyoza - we ate this the second time too, but I still don't know what was in that gyoza (anyone translate for me?). The crust on it was incredible.
jidorino tataki - seared rare chicken, in a lime juice and shoyu dressing with red onions, chives, and what I think I identified as shaved fennel. We thought it was duck at first because it was so rare, but no signs of salmonella yet!
"Honjin salad" - not very Japanese-sounding, but it was a salad of julienned daikon, red and yellow bell pepper, and a shoyu-rice vinegar dressing, with a little mizuni greens. Very refreshing.
motsunabe (obscured in photo, but you can see it in the first pic above) - we chose ours with miso broth, and the second time there we realized we could order noodles for slurping up the last of the unctuous broth. I will definitely make this at home.
karashi mentaiko - spicy, pickled, salted cod roe. Very intense. "Maa maa" - not my fave, but Scott liked it (I'd wished I'd had some rice to chase it!).

(apologies for poorly-exposed and attempt-at-fixing photo)

The amuses bouche were a beautiful ceviche baby squid with seaweed and glass noodles in a slightly acidic, sweet and salty dressing, and a little dish of octopus tentacles with masago. The second time we were treated to a simple egg salad with excellent remoulade.

Our second favorite meal was not so much about the food (which consisted of excellent yakitori of duck meatballs and pankoed and fried soft-boiled quail eggs, but bland shabu-shabu) as the atmosphere. It was located in Shibuya, and served as our respite from the harrowing heat and frenetic pace of Tokyo rush hour. We wanted to kill some time before attempting the train ride back to Shimbashi Station, and ducked down into a small place whose name was sadly never established for lack of any Romaji signage.

When we entered, the front counter was occupied by one elderly man in an expensive suit, surrounded by an entourage of middle-aged men in similarly expensive suits, all standing around protectively. As soon as the older man finished his food and stood, they all turned and followed him downstairs. Scott and I of course assumed that they were Yakuza (it was likelier just a boss and his employees, but that's no fun, is it?). The subsequent clientele were all senior citizens who went directly downstairs, where we assumed the non-smoking section must've been located. The old timer behind the grill complimented my Japanese, which was very gratifying.

Another place worth mention is also tragically nameless due our illiteracy in Kanji and Katakana. We had just befriended a Korean traveler over mediocre sushi who reluctantly agreed to come drinking with us, and we found another gorgeous little basement joint where no English but ours' was spoken.

Karam spoke better English than he did Japanese; in fact, I think my Japanese was actually better than his, which I find sort of amusing.

We had only been looking for a place to drink reishu and maybe peck a little, and instead stumbled into a place perhaps a bit out of our league. Never fearing a challenge, we settled in for what ended up being a flight of premium cold sake presented by an apparent sake sommelier. He was an uncanny Japanese doppelganger of Stephen from Top Chef Season 1, which put me and Scott into peals of giggles. The chef and apprentices were prepping for dinner, and our seats at the bar gave us a perfect view of my favorite form of entertainment - the kitchen's ballet.

The clatter of a dropped pan instigated a knee-jerk "otto!" ("oops!") to come rushing out of my mouth, and appalled at what I feared had been glaring disrespect, I looked up in time to see the chef smiling and shaking his head. Phew! Disaster averted. He wasn't offended at all, and in fact treated us to a free sample of the kobe beef he was gracious enough to allow me photograph.

I'm sorry, but the marbling on that masterpiece makes my panties wet. A quick sear was all it took, and slivers of beef that can only come from cows that are massaged daily and fed sake melted on our tongues.

Other foods were photographed but dashed what were perhaps unrealistically high hopes. Okonomiyaki was tasty enough at the time, but looking at the photo now kinda turns my stomach.

Pork and noodles were probably the better choice over seafood, but the cloying barbecue sauce left an icky aftertaste. Many glasses of reishu were required.

Worse, takoyaki wasn't even tasty at the time, and the mere thought of it now makes me puke a little in my mouth.
I was expecting crispy little hush puppy-type dumplings with tender nuggets of octopus, but was instead met with a mushy exterior and an interior of raw batter and tough hunks of cephalopod, all topped with the ubiquitous barbecue sauce, kupie mayo, and bonito shavings that writhed and squirmed as they melted in the steam. We couldn't drink our beers fast enough to overwrite the experience.

These were the notables (and unmentionables) of our culinary adventures in Tokyo. Your mileage may vary.

Oh shit we are in Tokyo!

Scott and I are in Tokyo celebrating our first anniversary. We got here Friday night (Saturday afternoon Tokyo time), and we've already managed to see some pretty cool shit. And our lungs are starting to get used to the heavy air. Here's the morning view from our hotel:


We ate at Tsujiki fish market today, but instead of having sushi (I know, wtf were we thinking?) we ate something that I just can't identify. It was like some fish cake-type texture (probably thickened with rice flour?) like the size of a burrito, and had carrots, shitake mushrooms, ginger and corn in it. It reminded me of that hot pink fish cake that comes in ramen (what is that stuff called?). It also came with some little dumplings on a skewer and a sausage-shaped thing that had either thinly shredded daikon or some noodle in it. And there was also a little pancake of the same texture and vegetable combo.

(We had already eaten some of it before I thought to take a photo)

Kore wa nan desu ka?? I forgot to ask the guy at the stand. Does this look familiar? It was about 1000 yen (~$10) for the little box of all of those things, and it was enough to feed myself and Scott with leftovers to spare. I'd love to know what it is so I can try it again at another joint or try to get a recipe.

Other random neatness:

At first I thought nobody locked up their bikes, but actually they use handy little back-tire locks instead.

A lovely bonsai in the middle of the city at Hama-rikyu Gardens.

Even the manhole covers are pretty (although some emit rank sewer gas).

I think this is a bowl of soup cozying up to a fried prawn. I guess they're probably in love.


This building, perhaps the coolest I've ever seen, looks like a very geometric Antonio Gaudi work. Or a giant game of Jenga.

We're in the room now drinking cheap shoju mixed with pear nectar and watching bad Japanese daytime television. I hafta admit that Japanese television is kinda disappointing. It seems to be mostly infomercials and sports. Dietary aids seem to be very popular.

After the feet rest up a bit and the sweat dries (it is like 90 degrees and 70% humidity), I want to find some good soba. I think there's a place just around the corner from us. Last night we ate in a bar, and had some octopus croquettes, octopus sashimi, gyoza and cranberry-flavored malt liquor beverage. No one there spoke English so we really had to bring our A-game, and I think we did okay. I really want to meet someone to drink with, but we're so not there yet with our language skills.

Update later. Matane!

Paper Chef 25

Wow, I am so excited to enter the world of Paper Chef! (link at Tomatilla! on my sidebar). This friendly little competition among food bloggers is just the type of thing to get me through the busy harvest season and the damp winter that follows. This is how it (usually) works: once a month on a Friday, 3 ingredients are revealed and by the following Wednesday you must incorporate those ingredients into a dish and then blog it. (This will also give me a much-needed kick in the ass to keep my blog current.)

This month's ingredients are: eggplant, chili peppers, smoked swordfish (or other smoked fish if you can't obtain smoked swordfish, or other smoked food if you can't hang with seafood), and this week a fourth ingredient was added: something you already have in your house. This month's theme was "Home."

To me, home-style foods are usually of the soup, chowder, or stew variety. This is also poor folks' food, which is what I grew up eating. As an adult, I've found ways to class-up the food my mom prepared while attempting to make ends meet. I still think the reason Scott proposed to me is that he could taste the home-made chicken stock in my corn chowder (he denies this, but I believe the old adage holds true).

And so, for my inaugural entry into Paper Chef, I present to you:

Smoky Green Curry Seafood Chowder

Ingredients (broken out into steps of prep):
1 medium-sized Asian eggplant*, mandolined or sliced very thin (on the bias)
2 c chopped fresh tomatoes (canned would work in a pinch if drained)
2 tbsp olive oil
1 jalapeno, seeded and minced*
3 small, mild green chilis such as fresh pepperoncini*
1 small onion, diced
1 shallot, minced (about 3 tbsp)
3 or 4 cloves garlic, minced
3" piece of ginger (the younger the better), julienned
1/2 c chopped baby haricots verts (or other tender green bean)

1 tsp coriander seed
1/2 tsp caraway seed
1/2 tsp cumin seed
1/4 tsp garam masala
coupla fat pinches kosher salt
6 or 7 cracks pepper

5 c fumet or fish stock*
3 or 4 squirts fish sauce (nam pla)
1 can (13.5 oz) coconut milk
1 cup chopped fresh basil (reserve a few sprigs for garnish)
1/2 c chopped fresh cilantro, stems and all (reserve a few sprigs for garnish)
1/2 tsp red chili flake (I like the Korean kind, which is a little sweeter)
juice and zest from half a lime

1 tin (3.66 oz) smoked mussels*, drained
1 lb mild white fish fillets (such as halibut, flounder, tilapia, etc.), cut into bite-sized cubes
8 baby octopus or squid, cleaned, tentacles left whole and bodies cut into bite-sized pieces
12 or 15 medium-sized prawns (~8 oz), peeled and deveined with tails intact

*These are the key ingredients of this week. For the "something you already have", I used fumet (see the "We Went to the Beach and Shit" post for the story of my shitload of fumet).

Heat oven to 350F. Spread thinly-sliced eggplant in a single layer on two lightly-oiled cookie sheets (or on a silpat on top of the cookie sheet). Spread tomatoes into glass or ceramic baking dish in an even layer. Roast eggplant for 15 minutes until browned and a bit crispy. Peel eggplant off while still hot and set aside. Roast toms for an additional 15 minutes (30 minutes total) until slightly browned, sticky and slumpy. You can kick the heat up a bit after the eggplant comes out if you want to expedite this step.

In a large, heavy-bottomed soup pot, heat the olive oil over medium-high heat. Saute the jalapenos, pepperoncini, onions, shallots, garlic, ginger and haricots verts for 5 minutes, stirring with a wooden spoon (important utensil for home cooking). While this is happening, heat a small pan over medium heat and toast the coriander, caraway and cumin seed until fragrant. Remove from heat and grind in mortar and pestle or spice grinder until you get a fine powder. Add ground spices and garam masala to sauteeing veg, and add salt and pepper.

When veg is beginning to get a little golden, add fumet, fish sauce and coconut milk. Drop heat to medium-low and stir. Add basil, coriander, chili flake and the lime zest/juice. Simmer for like 10 minutes. Add the eggplant and tomatoes, smoked mussels and the fish, and simmer another 10 minutes or so, until the veg is al dente and the fish is looking opaque. Avoid stirring too much here so you don't break up the fish. Add the octopus and prawns, and turn off the heat. The latent heat will cook the octopus and prawns without overdoing it.

Ladle into warm bowls and top with sprigs of basil and cilantro (or chop the sprigs up and sprinkle on top). Serve with crusty baguette (not as weird as you'd think; since Vietnam was colonized by the French they learned some nice baking skills from them). Enjoy with a nice Pinot Gris (we have great ones in Oregon), which compliments the seafood and cuts the spiciness.

BTW our fridge died on Monday

So our kitchen crisis continues. The fridge is still dead, the part (a fuse) is on order and maybe we'll be civilized again by NEXT FUCKING TUESDAY.

Wednesday night, while trying to clear shit out for the fridge guy, I managed to stop up the garbage disposal with a quart-sized jar of old pickles and like 2 cups' worth of cooked tuna. I poured a half a can of Red Devil down the drain (that's 100% sodium hydroxide powder) and waited an hour. Still nothing. Go to the store for some Liquid Plumr Caustic Extreme and when we returned both sinks were completely full of vile, hot, half-digested tuna-pickle water (I, being a genius, had run the dishwasher while we ran to the store and it filled the sinks when it drained). So I open the under-sink cupboard and tap the pipes a little, and WHOOSH! they explode drano-tuna-pickle water all over me and the kitchen. I am wearing flip-flops and shorts and hafta sprint to the bathroom for a hazmat-type shower. Every towel in the house ("except our nice ones!!" I scream at the husband) is on the kitchen floor and I am furiously mopping, sobbing and cursing at the top of my lungs until midnight.

Turns out the pipes had been jury-rigged with $3 pvc pipes by the guy who sold us the house, and the inspector had missed it. We had to have the entire under-sink plumbing redone (at a cost of ~$600), and the clog still has not been fixed. The plumber never made the service call for a dude with a snake to come unplug it (I found out this morning when I called to see where the fuck he was already) so we can't even use our sink until tomorrow. I had to wash dishes in the bathtub. May as well have been the fucking Ganges.

So since I had apparently arbitrarily taken the day off work for the plumber who never showed, I had time to completely disassemble the fridge's interior, take everything out back and hose it all down and let it air out in the sun. I scrubbed out the fridge with lavender-scented cleaning product to get the rotten shrimp paste smell out and put a couple of bundles of rosemary and some boxes of baking soda in there.

Then I scrubbed the dried-on tuna-pickle puke out of the sinks (without being able to turn on the water!), swabbed down the counters and swept and mopped the floors and so the kitchen at least looks back to normal. The fridge is still smells a wee bit past-due but at least it doesn't smell like the inside of a coffin.

We went to the beach and shit

Last weekend Scott and I went to the coast for the night. I had been having an uncharacteristic jones for the hubbub of Seaside and its bumper cars, corn dogs, caramel corn and salt water taffy, but we couldn't find a room there and so settled for Astoria. A couple of hours of walking around Seaside and taking in the delicious smells of childhood was enough to sate me, and the crowds made me glad for our reservation in the sleepy history of Astoria.

Our hotel was adjacent to the marina, and if you wanted to spend ~$200/person and 12 hours on a cloudy sea you could partake of a charter fishing trip for tuna, salmon, halibut and/or dungeness crab. Even better, you could just walk down the pier and buy fresh albacore from a dude on his boat for only $1.50/lb. Having had some foresight, we had packed an empty cooler and bought an 18-lb schoolie from the guy.

"You want me to fillet it for you?"

"Nah, I think I can handle it," I say smugly, having seen that one episode of Top Chef where the Quick Fire Challenge was to fillet fish. Why, oh why am I such a macho asshole when it comes to this type of shit? You know damn well I've only filleted one whole fish my entire life - a 1 lb. store-bought tilapia. And I ended up cutting my hand on its dorsal fin in the process.

"I can do this, though", I convinced myself. So with my ever-necessary swig of liquid courage, I took to the porch with my chef's knife in one hand and my steel in the other and set forth to butcher this motherfucker.


Ah, look how the eyes shine and the skin glistens! After hauling this bastard out of the ice, I really wished I had had the dude leave the tail on, for lack of any other handle (it wouldn't fit into the cooler totally intact, alas). I slid it onto the newspaper and began.

I began at the belly, ignorant of the fact that I would destroy the choice belly meat by slicing open the abdomen. I see a shiny pile of wet viscera and am surprised when it doesn't totally gross me out. I slide my bare hands into the cold guts and sweep them out. I decide it will be hilarious if I pile them onto the "escorts" section of the newspaper and have Scott take a photo (my hands were too bloody to snap it myself).



Doesn't that make your dick hard?

I finally get the head off and all the guts out and then the flies and yellowjackets start swarming. I toss the fish back into the ice and wrap up the mess in the newspaper and haul it to the trash.

Flash back to last winter when I am pacing on the porch smoking furiously wondering what the fuck I am going to do with this dead thing I plan to eat.

Google is oddly unhelpful when it comes to tuna butchery. I do, though, know a little about fish anatomy. Tuna, like all vertebrates, are bilaterally symmetrical. This makes things slightly intuitive. But unlike fishes like salmon, they have a cross-shaped bony structure, like their ribs are perpendicular to their spine. So I started at the side where the skin goes from bluish to all-silver, and poked in my fillet knife until I felt bone.

Sliding the knife along the rib line (in stuttered, chopping movements instead of the correct, sleek slicing motion) I get from the head end to the tail. Next I poke in behind the head at the spine and slide my knife along the vertebrae (again, with Michael Meyersian grace) until I have freed the loin. Repeat three times. I have four mangled loins and enough scraps to fill a saucier.

I poached the scraps in olive oil (per Scott's brother's suggestion - he evidently fucked up many a tuna while working for McCormick & Schmick's) for later use. I dumped the skeleton into a stock pot with some mirepoix, bouquet garnis and a sprinkle of peppercorn and fennel seed to make what ended up being about a million gallons of fumet.

Last night's menu:

Seared albacore (rare) w/S&P
Salad of shaved fennel and zucchini, new potato and fresh corn with blood orange/thyme vinaigrette (corn and zucchini from the garden)

Tonight's menu:

Shiru maguro with wasabi and mushrooms
Cold soba with dungeness crab (oh yeah, we bought a coupla those too) scallions, black sesame oil, ginger and miso

The rest has been frozen because I can't stand the smell of fish blood in my kitchen any more. We'll eat the poached stuff on a nice salade nicoise later this week when I'm too lazy to cook after the gym.

Pond Life

Today was the type of day in the field that reminds me of why I went into biology in the first place. It was a dream day. I felt 5 years old again, perfectly amazed that I get paid to plod around ponds and wetlands and see wonderful things.

I conducted my annual mitigation monitoring at Hillsboro Landfill - the most excellent mitigation site I've had in my 5 years in this line of work. A series of ponds and emergent wetlands all seasonally connected to the Tualatin River, laden with great blue herons, Pacific treefrogs, western grebes and all sorts of ducks. The vegetation there is also mostly fantastic - wapato, willows, waterplantain and various spikerushes and sedges all seem to do fine against the reed canarygrass. It really is hard to believe this place is on a landfill property.

So today I was conducting my monitoring (consisting of vegetation transects and quadrats, which will be converted to Daubenmire cover classes). Last year I monitored the site in early October and the ponds had dried up to mud flats. But since I was out early enough this year I got to see my phase of the mitigation still partially ponded. And I had the chance to catch a few minnows and baby catfish!

I caught three baby brown bullhead catfish, one minnow and a dragonfly larva. They are a nice addition to the whiskey barrel pond I made for the deck a week ago.


We named them too - the baby dragonfly is Smaug, the minnow is Ducat and the catfish are Bubb Rubb, Dirty Sanchez and Blumpkin. Yay! We have free pets! And not a moment too soon - mosquito larvae and egg rafts are infesting the wee pond already. Our new pets will clear things up nicely.