Coconut Chicken with Curried Onions and Rice

What to do with a coconut?  It seems like an easy question until you have to answer it.  First, you have to get the thing open.  Absent a machete, the hammer and knife-cum-chisel combination is probably your best option.  After a number of hard, but controlled strokes of the hammer, the thing should start to crack.  It lets out a satisfying hiss when the inner chamber is punctured and depressurized.  Catch the juice in a bowl to drink.

Take a hammer to the coconut halves.  Try not to break anything with the flying shards.

Now the coconut is open, you have to figure out what to do with it.  Unless you have a bunch of coconut-loving friends, you've got a lot of coconut meat to get through.  I guess I don't have enough friends, so I figured the coconut would provide a nice crust on some chicken thighs.

The thighs were marinated (well, more like coated) in a mixture of the following:

Approximately equal measures of ground cumin, ground coriander and chili powder.  Slightly less turmeric and garam masala.  About 5 cloves of garlic and an equal quantity of ginger, minced.  Salt.  I added some dried galangal too.  Also, the juice of one lemon and enough oil to make the mixture like a wet paste.

After covering the chicken with this mixture, sprinkle grated coconut all over.  Use coconut to sop up the paste that has dripped onto the pan and put it back on the chicken.

Bake.

I also made some onions to go with the chicken.  I don't exactly remember what went into them, but I think there was cumin, black mustard seeds, garlic, maybe some garam masala.  Something along those lines.

The chicken was awesome: juicy enough that no other sauce was needed to lubricate its bed of rice.

Herby

To bring my garden to a close for the season, I harvested an herby bounty and dried it before a roaring open fire. And by roaring open fire I mean oven. After cutting the herbs and washing them, I placed them on a tray, threw them in my fancy oven, which has a 100 degree "bread proof setting," and let the fragrant goods desiccate for a hot minute.

Now I've got a good amount of rosemary, thyme, lavender, sage, and oregano to last me through the season.
While we all know dried herbs aren't that great, I hope to put them to use in some capacity, particularly as I prepare to re-up my pizza making skills. Bo.

Eggplant Parm...Deconstructed

Greetings friends and fiends. It's been a minute since I've posted on ye olde blog (not to be confused with Playland's homicidal ye olde mill). Like my now decrepit garden, I've left the cultivation and care of this blog to my compatriots, in particular King Boletus, who has been doing an admirable job of filling our screens and minds with a panoply of culinary delights. That said, I wish to offer a humble contribution to this blog in order to not be excommunicated from the Order of the Bolete.


A number of weeks ago, I decided to put to good use two items I possessed in abundance: basil and eggplant. The basil was fresh from my massive basil plant (which was later uprooted by an unscrupulous garden thief) and the eggplant was purchased in a fire sale at the local farmer's market. My usual eggplant preparations are either roasted with garlic and oil, blended into a smoky babaganoush, or fried into oblivion as part of a rich eggplant parm. I zeroed in on eggplant parm but felt that the fried version would capture neither the warmth of the season nor the freshness of its produce. Plus, deep fried eggplant covered in pesto sounded like overkill.


Baking seemed like the obvious route. But how to protect against mushiness? The answer, dear reader, is of course Panko. Lightly oiled and then covered in the Japanese breadcrumb helped me to achieve a crisp lightness found only in the most delicate of tempuras. Lacking large quantities of cheese, I opted to sprinkle sparingly with a good quality parmigiano-reggiano. 


And the pièce de résistance? Pesto. My version was highly non-traditional and combined a ton of fresh basil with enough oil to prevent the blended mixture from becoming completely emulsified. To give it the nutty richness of a more traditional pesto, I added some almonds to the mix. No cheese was added to the sauce, however.


On top of the eggplant foundation, I dolloped pesto and then covered with plum tomatoes, which were then liberally sprinkled with salt and pepper.

Another layer of eggplant, pesto, tomato was then added on top, before being covered in Panko, cheese, and a liberal douse of olive oil.

The end result was crisp and light but also rich from the smooth combination of roasted eggplant, olive oil, and pesto. Twas a meal fit for a Don. Check it.

Gnocchi

This was the first time I had made gnocchi.  It's pretty simple, really.  I tried Piedmontese gnocchi, which has just potato, flour and salt - no egg.  Egg supposedly makes the gnocchi denser and chewier.  The key to really good gnocchi, I think, is balance between firmness and fluffiness.  You don't want the dumplings to be rubbery, but mushy gnocchi is even worse.  I think mine could have been slightly chewier, but they had plenty of definition, and the lightness you get without eggs is very nice.  They were still really filling, but not quite as heavy as the really dense gnocchi you sometimes get.

I started out by boiling one large and two medium-small potatoes.

Once they were soft, I mashed them very thoroughly with a fork, since I don't have a vegetable mill.  The fork worked fine, really, and it didn't take too long.  Once they are mashed, leave the potatoes out to dry for a bit.

After they had dried, I added flour and salt and kneaded until the mixture was smooth.

To form the gnocchi, pull out a chunk of the potato dough and roll it into a cylinder about as thick as a thumb.  Then cut individual dumplings from the log.

To finish, hold a fork horizontally and roll the dumplings over the tines.  The technique is a bit hard to describe, and I'm not sure I've completely mastered it, but it is easy enough to do an adequate job after trying once or twice.  I was pretty satisfied with the shape of mine.

I sauced the gnocchi very simply.  Just butter browned with a little garlic, salt, pepper and parmesan.

For the second batch I added some (over)toasted pine nuts, which also went well.

Nanny's Famous Chicken Soup

What follows is a secret family recipe:

Ingredients:

1 whole Kosher chicken (about 3.5 lbs)
1 head of celery
1 bunch of parsley root
   or, since parsley root is hard to find, you can use a head of Italian parsley and 1 large parsnip
1 turnip
2 large carrots
1 leek
1 small yellow onion
1 bunch of dill
salt
white pepper
egg noodles (preferably Manischewitz, preferably alphabets)

Step 1: Rinse chicken and place in large pot. Cover generously with water. Bring to boil.

Step 2: While water boils, prepare vegetables as follows:

     - Cut off top and bottom of leek. Clean thoroughly, washing between each leaf.

     - Cut off greens from parsley root (the actual parsley) and leave aside until the end. If you are using a parsnip and parsley instead of parsley root, then you can skip this step.

     - Peel parsley root (or parsnip), carrots, and turnip.

     - Cut off ends and outer skin of onion. Leave inner skin to color the soup.

     - Cut greens out of center of celery heart.

 

Step 3: When soup boils, skim scum off the top. Let cook for 20 minutes on low simmer. Reskim.

Step 4: Add all the prepared vegetables except the leek and the celery. Add leek and celery about 20 minutes after the others.

Step 5: Let soup cook for about an hour.

 

Step 6: While the soup is cooking, cook the egg noodles.

Step 7: Remove vegetables and chicken. Strain soup and put back in pot. Add parsley, dill, pepper, and salt, and let stand for about 15 minutes.

Step 8: While soup stands, cut up the vegetables and carve the chicken.

Step 9: Serve broth in a bowl. Garnish with egg noodles, chicken, and vegetables as desired.

Borough Market, Golborne Road, and assorted notes.

Borough market is an awesome/expensive market.

Dank cheese.

Cool tomatoes.

Weird mushroom shot.

You get the point.

Additionally, MG had bizness in the Londontown. We had a great meal at Hereford Road, which included razor clams, cow curd and beets, and two beautifully cooked pieces of pork and lamb respectively. The week before, I went there with my parents and indulged in some fried calf's brain and Red Leg Partridge. Sorry no pictures.

That Saturday, MG, ZB, and myself explored the foodstuffs of Portobello Market and Golborne road.

Some photos from the market.

Spanish food stand.

Mackerel.

Ruffage.

Golborne Road, which begins at the end of the market, might as well be the Little Mahgreb of London.

We had a Moroccan spiced fish sandwich.

Lamb kebab sangwhich. (It looks sloppy and gross, but it was sloppy and delish.)

No photos of the lentils or merguez sandwich though. Not like the pictures really do justice to the food itself.

Tesco to Table

The title of this entry could also be called "food in a bowl". The kitchen situation in my residence hall in London is less than ideal, but I have been able to create some tasty treats nonetheless. Stocked with minimal items and only a hob (burner) and microwave for heat transfer, the prospects originally looked dim. However, the seeds of innovation were nevertheless sown into the fabric of disadvantage (read: inconvenience). I'll share a few meals.

 Saag Aloo (sorta): spinach, potatoes, a variety of Indian spices "borrowed" from the "communal" pantry, chiles and butter. Pretty damn tasty with some basmati rice and toasted pita bread.

Spanish tortilla: MG, holla back. Eggs, potatoes, oil, herbs (I used some dried herbs de provence). Topped with a lightly dressed rocket salad. Add a lil harissa on the side. Ya'll get on this harissa tip. The spice of life.

Cabbage and Eggs: Another shout out to MG the Cabbage Man. Eggs, Cabbage, Leeks. Also made a poor mans garlic bread with oil and garlic powder. Harissa on the side.

"Stir fry": Let's be honest,everything I make is technically a stir-fry. Sautee up some pork sausage, add carrots, spring onion, broccoli, cabbage, add noodles. Then cheat. Use store-bought black bean sauce. Get on that umami tip. Harissa on the side if you know whats good.

The moral of the story could be interpreted as one of making the best of your situation etc. I'd prefer you to interpret this post as an homage to harissa: a panacea for muted flavors and handicapped culinary tools/skillz. But don't let me tell you what to do.

Fresh Roast Chicken with divers sides

Start with a freshly slaughtered chicken and you can't go too far wrong.  We originally planned to do the slaughter ourselves, but there was some debate about whether the neighbors would approve, and, in the end, not enough time.  Instead we called ahead to a nearby live poultry vendor who killed and prepped the chicken for us.  The flesh was still warm with life as I got it ready for the oven.

I rubbed the skin with butter and seasoned with salt, pepper and lemon juice.  The chicken was stuffed with the spent lemon halves, a couple crushed garlic cloves and a few sprigs of fresh thyme.

It's not clear in these pictures, but the chicken definitely had more meat on its back than supermarket chickens tend to have.  Delicious all around.

We clearly needed some lovely sides to go with the lovely chicken.

The first started with the chicken's liver, some fresh thyme and onion.

Add to this some mushrooms and fava beans.

This one will definitely be repeated.

A little cabbage never hurt anyone.

And the whole spread...  Note the roasted potatoes and onions top right.  These were boiled, then roasted in the juices underneath the chicken.  Also note the ravaged chicken leg.

Not a bad-looking plate of food.

Squash Ravioli with Mushrooms

I love squash ravioli, I love mushrooms and I love them together.  So I made squash ravioli with mushrooms.

For the ravioli, I roasted and pureed a butternut squash, then heated it in a pan and seasoned with salt, pepper, nutmeg, parmesan and some powdered, dried aspen bolete.  It was pretty hard to powder the mushroom, so there wasn't much in there. This mixture was stuffed into freshly made pasta dough, as you can see below.

I made the pasta dough in the standard way, with just egg and flour.  The ratio of egg to flour will vary depending on the flour you use and the size of the egg, but it should be about 3/4 cup of flour for each egg.  I think I used 4 eggs, which made enough ravioli for 5-6 portions.

To make the pasta, form the flour in the shape of a well on your work surface and break the eggs inside.  beat the eggs with fork or fingers and gradually incorporate the surrounding flour.  Once everything is incorporated, knead for a few minutes.  Either throw the dough in the fridge at this point, or, if you're ready, roll it into sheets.

Next time I do this, I'd like to use the little ravioli cutting wheel that makes jagged edges.  This time, I just cut the dough into squares, stuffed these with squash and sealed them, as you can see.

For the mushroom cream sauce, I stewed a leek in butter, then added chopped button mushrooms and a mixture of imported porcini mushrooms and their close relative from New Mexico, Boletus Barrowsii.  You can see them reconstituting in water above.  Season these in the pan with salt and pepper.  Once the mushrooms started browning, I added the reserved liquid from the dry mushroom soak and simmered it off.  I let them cook a little more, then added some cream and white wine to form the sauce.

Here's the finished product, with some more parmesan and pepper.  Delicious.

Pie

Two classic fall pies: apple and pumpkin, to get you in the mood for Thanksgiving.

The apple pie was made with Honey Crisp apples from Michigan, a handful (well, several) from the third of a bushel I ended up with after a botched order.  The crust uses butter for shortening (two sticks total) and also has about a cup of shredded sharp cheddar cheese.  Otherwise, it's a conventional crust, striking a balance between the sugar heavy recipe in New Basics and Mark Bittman's saltier version.

The filling is mostly apple, peeled, cored and sliced, plus a bit more than a cup of sugar and half a stick of melted butter.  It's seasoned with vanilla extract, some cinnamon, a few cardamom pods, some nutmeg and zest of one lemon.

It deserved three pictures.

The pumpkin pie got a lot less attention.  It's basically Mark Bittman's recipe, which treats the pie as a custard, with a lot of cream and eggs plus sugar and the usual spices.  The first picture shows the mixture heating on the stove before being added to the pre-baked crust.  The apple was better, but I do love pumpkin pie, and this one grew on me after an initial impression of excessive egginess.