Friday I went down to have make lunch with for Claudia and her Mom and friend, and on my way home I stopped at the good fish market there and picked up some things. Among those things were some beautiful sushi-grade yellowfin and opah and a small container of ikura. Other treats went in the freezer for another time. After the impromptu free catering gig, this stop was an excellent idea; there’s not much that I find more inspiring than gleamingly fresh seafood like this. I was most cheerful as I washed the rice.
Year: 2011
The last couple of days have marked a change; the sun is higher and warmer, and things melt quickly when it hits them. There’s still a ton of snow all over the place, but even a thick coat gets greatly diminished by a few hours of sunlight; a half-assed morning shoveling makes for immaculately snowless paths by afternoon. Thoughts turn to seeds, and compost, and mulch. And dinner. A smidgen of foresight led to the welcome presence of some ground turkey defrosting in a bowl of water come dinner time tonight. That foresight did not alas extend to the other several items on the shopping list which I somehow managed to lose between the house and the store, but such is life.
Since there’s some sort of sports game event on the Teevee today, I thought I’d post about some of the high-end junk food I’ve made recently.
Some bakers delight in churning out dozens of different kinds of bread from multiple cookbooks, ranging far and wide in their study and pursuit of great bread. I am not one of those bakers. I began with the recipe and wild starter that Andrew gave me, and have slowly been changing it and making it my own based on lots and lots of attempts and modifications (and accidents, the importance of which to any creative process can not be overstated). And I’m now at the point where I’ve got my master recipe, which I can adapt into many different shapes and flavors without altering the basics much at all.
I’m busy, so I have a backlog of posts that I want to write but haven’t found time for yet. This is something from a few days ago, and illustrates a principle that may be my very most favorite of all kitchen truisms: that charcuterie and a well-stocked pantry and freezer can make seriously high-quality food appear as if by magic in next to no time at all.

The February Chronogram is out, and this time around I had an offal-cooking session with Rich Reeve of Elephant in Kingston. Rich cooks his ass off every night, turning out seriously good tapas from two little hot plates and a toaster oven. He is more punk rock than you are. He also knows his way around an animal, using everything in creative and highly enticing ways.
The link is here. Do yourself a favor and try one of the recipes. If you live in the area, go see Rich and let him show you how rewarding the organs and off-cuts can be to cook and eat. If you don’t, hit up a local high-quality ethnic restaurant and try whatever they’re making. If you’re a carnivore, you have no excuse. You either eat animals or you don’t. If you’re too squeamish, be a vegetarian.
I also have it on good authority that six-year-olds love bone marrow. Picture after the jump.
As I mentioned at Christmas, I’m not such a fan of big roasts for small families. And yet that roast–which was very good–and more importantly the ensuing Cuban sandwiches kind of converted me to this way of cooking, at least occasionally. We’re rarely lacking in charcuterie (currently there’s duck prosciutto, bresaola, and both tongue and brisket pastrami on hand, plus guanciale and lardo, AND the whole ham from John) so, especially given all the bread I’ve been baking, lavishly delicatesque meatwiches are pretty much always an option. But, you know, a true Cuban sandwich requires two kinds of pork, so this dinner is what tomorrow’s lunch demanded.
In the summer, I always just walk outside and let the garden dictate what dinner will be. I love the constant dialogue with the plants, and the tension between my desire to efficiently dispatch them all at ideal times and the realities of their own schedules. As a result, I often try to make good use of the not-yet-ready in the form of sprouts and baby greens, combined with a few thinks at their perfect peak, and something else that’s past its prime. These days? I just open the freezer. Interesting it ain’t, but easy it assuredly is. And on nights such as last, when I’m not feeling super-inspired, a package of four semi-boneless quail can make the difference between a pasta phone-in and a real meal.
I often encourage everyone to buy whole chickens and bone-in cuts of meat because the bones–either trimmed off while still raw, or gathered after eating–allow the luxury of meat to be enjoyed again as stock later on. As I told a recent class I taught here, stock is the single most useful from-scratch ingredient one can have in the kitchen; it’s the easiest way to make your food better and more like things you pay big bucks for out in the world. And I used a shrimp shell reduction (to make paella-flavored fettucine) in that class to illustrate the point; crustacean shells are pure gold in the stock pot the next day. But when it comes to fin fish, I often buy fillets instead of whole fish. And that’s missing an opportunity. I had this epiphanette last night as I stood over a steaming pot of beautiful fish stock.
Yesterday John and I went over to Gerard’s for lunch; he busted out a brilliant array of tapas and we brought some good wine. I can’t think of a nicer way to spend a cold Tuesday afternoon than eating and drinking like this.








