Farro Salad

Farro is the latest grain of the month, an ancient grain once enjoyed by the Romans, prized for its healthy attributes, nutty flavor, and a texture which can vary from chewy to creamy depending on how one cooks it. I discovered farro in a salad at Empire State South in Atlanta. They carry it by the tub at the DeKalb Farmers' Market, so I picked one up on our weekly shopping pilgrimage.

Cooking farro is easy. I tried three different preparations. In the first preparation, I rinsed one cup of farro and brought it and three cups of heavily salted water to a boil. I let it run about thirty minutes, and then drained the water. I allowed the farro to cool on its own. In the second preparation, I rinsed one cup of farro and brought it and three cups of unsalted water to a boil. I pulled this farro after about twenty five minutes, and then rinsed it in cold water. In the third preparation, I let the farro cook for just under twenty minutes, then added about two teaspoons of salt and cooked for another ten, and then rinsed the grain in cold water.

The Romans knew what they were doing...

The first preparation was too salty, the second not salty enough, although the two mixed together worked just fine. The third preparation was spot on. Rinsing the grains prevented them from becoming creamy, so one can control texture.

The salad recipe I made from it was also simple, and tasty. Into the three cups dry farro (I did not measure how much this yielded cooked), I chopped up three green peppers, one jar of kalamata olives, about six ounces of crumbled parmesean, and one bunch of chives. With the exception of the olives, it all came from the garden.

The dressing was:

1/2 cup sherry vinegar
1/2 cup olive oil
2 tablespoons Dijon mustard
2 teaspoons freshly ground black pepper



I dressed the salad about two hours prior to serving. Easy, quick, and (in my opinion), quite tasty.

The Bourbon Flip

It is time to begin the search for a signature holiday drink. The holidays invite tampering with classics, with bold moves and uncertain results. While the colder days of winter call for stiff and unassuming cocktails of no more than three ingredients, and the dog days of summer call for white liquors, fresh herbs and citrus, the holidays invoke a different feel. The weather is transitioning. Warm days give way to colder, although even in the more wintery north, warm days peek out for days at a time, tempting us to return the mitts and hats to the dresser and to shed that extra layer of clothing. The air is crisper. The leaves have turned, and begun their gradual migration to the streets. Ovens heat up. Turkeys and hams and roasts occupy our plates alongside yams and turnips and dressing. The frantic rush of the year closes in. Yet, somehow, this is when we breathe the best.

So it needs a cocktail. Actually, not necessarily a cocktail, which, as cocktail 101 informs us, historically requires the addition of bitters to make it such. I prefer the idea of a flip for the holiday. It can stand alone, or follow a decent meal. It feels wholesome and round. It even sounds festive.

So I am searching for a good bourbon flip recipe. I've had two excellent flips, one in Chicago at the Violet Hour, and another at Empire State South in Atlanta.

The Violet Hour served up a libation it called the "Cold & Delicious"

Pierre Ferrand 1840 Cognac, Dow's Ruby Port, Spice Trader Syrup, Nux Alpina Black Walnut Liqueur, Whole Egg, Apple Bitters. 

 It was both cold and delicious. But it felt wrong to me. I had just had the bartender make me an old fashioned, which he did with 12 year old rye and tobacco bitters. After such a simple and aromatic libation, the flip tasted overdone. The spices all came together, but it tasted no different from simpler flips I had had in the past (at least in my mind, this was the case).

The flip at Empire State South was decidedly simpler, and as such carried the unassuming name "bourbon flip." I had it at the end of a meal in lieu of a dessert. It was beautifully crafted, and immediately impressed upon me the fact that we had to anoint the bourbon flip as the libation of choice for the 2012 holiday season.

So I must find a recipe. The most basic seems the following, which appears as a standard recipe almost everywhere and in every book:

2 oz. bourbon
1 egg
1 tsp superfine sugar
1/2 oz cream
1/8 teaspoon grated nutmeg.

Another set of proportions over at Ladies United offers the following, which appears heavier:

3 oz. bourbon
2 oz. heavy cream
1 large egg
1 oz. spiced simple syrup

As for technique, the shaking method seems to be the popular one. To return to the classic How to Mix Drinks, the directions are as follows:

The essential in "flips" of all sorts is, to produce the smoothness by repeated pouring back and forth between two vessels, and beating up the eggs well in the first instance; the sweetening and spices according to taste.

It also calls for heating the beer (the recipe is for a rum and beer flip) to near boiling before mixing it with the rum and egg mixture. I think shaking will do, although I am untutored on the subject.

The Czech Republic, Goulash and Dumplings..

It's been a while, but I've been busy - finding temporary dwellings in Berlin while settling in and playing shows at night with friends on various stages in the city - but I've been eating and documenting still. :)

During early September, my boyfriend and I went to visit his family in a small town called Česká Lípa (about an hour or less north by train from Prague). We did visit Prague (divine), where we mainly walked around the city. We managed to find many good places to eat, including an amazing cocktail bar focusing on fresh ingredients. If you travel Europe and haven't been to Prague, you are a fool and must go right now. The details in architecture are beyond charming and unique. The views of the city from different points must not be missed, nor a trip across the bridge to the palace and nearby park. The pics below are just several examples of all the glorious buildings you walk across - all lined up, one after another..

We also stopped in to eat at a pub for some local fare - goulash and dumplings with a pilsner (this particular goulash was mainly juice from pork meat and powdered peppers), a common and hearty dish eaten in the Czech Republic. 

                                                      Goulash lunch special, local pub in Prague

Goulash comes from Hungary, but it is popular in Eastern and Northern Europe - and in Germany, I am finding. Typically onions and garlic are added, and additional spices such as cumin or marjoram. It can be more of a stew (as it was at this pub) or a soup. This lunch (only 3 Euros) was served with potato dumplings, filled with chunks of bread and little pig bits to make it extra tasty. I prefer potato dumplings over the bread-like ones - they are heartier and seem to have more flavor. And of course, one must order a Pilsner as after all, this is the country it calls home. Plus it helps wash down the slightly bitter after-taste of the paprika pepper sauce. This goulash was delicious, even without the tomato (which is often added in other recipes). 

After a few days in the city, we went up north to Česká Lípa. There I visited both parents and my boyfriend's Grandmother. I will be calling her Grandma Czech from now on, as she is the one who prepared most food while I was there and very true to the culture of her life in Česká Lípa and its surroundings. :) 

Both households (Grandma and Mom + Dad) had backyard gardens big and abundant enough to feed the entire neighborhood. Apple, apricot, plum, and pear trees filled the yard along with scores of tomatoes, strawberries, raspberries, aubergines, snow peas, yellow and black currents, lettuce, brussel sprouts, concord grapes…. I could go on but it's exhausting.

Grandma Czech didn't just have her garden - she also keeps chickens, turkeys and rabbits. I was told she once had a pig and a goat in addition - all in her backyard. She cares for all these animals but also uses them for food when the moment arises. You'd never guess she takes care of business when the time comes - but she does. I admit she has a lot more guts than I do where that is concerned.

But let's talk about Dumplings. :)

I woke up to Jan warning me if I didn't go downstairs I would miss Grandma making her special dumplings for breakfast. I quickly threw on some clothes and ran down to find her already rolling them. She handed me a square piece of dough (made from boiled potato mixed with a bit of salt and course flour) and plopped a small plum (picked right from her tree outside) into the middle of it and instructed me to roll until it covered the plumb completely. 

                                                            

                                                          Roll, Roll, Roll the Dumplings... 

                                                   That's course flour on the board, there...

                               

After rolling a number of these, she plopped them into a pot of boiling water and let them sit in there for about 6-7 minutes, warning me not to let them stick to the bottom of the pot. She then removed them and first poured a combo of sugar and poppy seeds over the top, then drizzling melted butter to finish them off..

After this they are ready to serve. I sat down and stuck my fork in - surprised at how easily it went in through the plum. It was hot and steamy but after a few seconds, I took a bite and I could not believe how delicious this was - and how simple. The tartness from the plum skin was divine, as was the flavor of the heated plum - not as sweet as it would have been but just perfect in my mind in this dumpling. I think I ate about 6 of them. The plums were fresh and in season, which of course makes a big difference. Even more romantic was the thought that they came right off of the tree in the backyard. I had to stop myself from gorging on more. Fortunately we were out the door soon for a long walk. 

After I ate all 6 dumplings, Jan and I took a hike around the village and visited a mountain nearby. The landscape is green and lush and full of fields for farming. Grandma was out in the field the day before picking up potatoes harvested that season - she had clearly gotten some sun and I was impressed by how vital and physically energetic she is in her 70s. She told us when we returned that afternoon we would have rabbit from the yard. That was an experience and will be the topic of the next post. Here's a pic of her trying to hold back her enthusiastic dog, whom was very keen to jump all over us upon arrival. Adorable. 

Kringle and good music...

Copenhagen Songwriter Festival and the Kringle

While in Copenhagen performing at the Songwriters Festival I was quite occupied with music rather than food. I was also only there for a few days, so this entry will be a bit different. :) I saw some great musicians well worth mentioning, which I feel I must do here, since nobody in the States will have heard of them. I of course, got up and did my thing on the main stage (unfortunately I was sick with a fever), and will probably do it again next year, hopefully under better circumstances. :) 

One thing I always make extra effort to consume while in Copenhagen is Kringle. Danishes are famous in America, but after eating them in Denmark I don't wish to try them anywhere else. :) Pastries shaped in a circular fashion or historically, like a pretzel (brought over by Roman monks in the 13th century), they are extremely thin layers of dough (like Viennese pastries, only with more egg I'm told), with some sort of filling in the center between the layers. Below, as you can see, chocolate, marzipan, etc. is used for filling. The one I like has a custard filling and is sprinkled with roasted sweet almonds and sugar. The Viennese have influenced Danish Kringle but the Danes have their own way of doing it, and it's delicious. 

Kringle is a little different than the smaller danishes shown above. It is prepared in a much larger circle, and is one kind I really like to consume. Here it is more close-up (in the photo below) - not shaped in a circle, but perhaps cut it into lengths as the traditional circle is a bit too large to sell all at once to individuals just walking into a bakery. 

Danish Kringle

Aside from this, food was replaced by new artists I enjoyed while at the festival. Sturle Dagsland, two young brothers from Norway stuck out - both with the soundscapes they created and their emotional performance on stage. Their show was genuine and passionate, something that is quite important for me when out to hear live music. One of them reminds me strongly of a young Kurt Cobain..

Another super soon-to-be hot player in my mind (virtually unknown and one that real hipsters would drool over)  is 'EED'. Although she promised me she would put her songs up in several weeks you won't find a trace of her on the internet yet. Also Norwegian - living in Copenhagen for now she is, simply put, DOPE. She sports a very child-like hipster look but doesn't seem pretentious at all. She drums a simple rock/pop beat while singing with a keyboard player and one other female vocalist. The songs are sparse and so very 'on' and rhythmic that you find yourself digging the show immensely as your jaw drops at the rather complicated vocal arrangement interplay by her and her backup singer. She also balances out the poppy stuff with melodic singing on other tunes. I was completely into everything she did and am desperately awaiting a recording. I hope I'm not disappointed as recordings often don't measure up to a great performance, which in her case, was *totally awesome*. I have serious hope for her though, as her writing was solid. 

Otherwise, I'm heading for Prague with my man soon and will eat from Grandma's backyard garden, rabbits included. That will be a major post for me as we will make the whole meal from scratch, including fresh rabbit. For now, Kringle (and music) will have to do from Denmark. Cheers!

fertilizer and pruning (boring)

SHOOPING carts need not apply

Today hardly seemed like August. It was cool and dry this morning and remained so through 10:30 a.m. It made for a beautiful walk and then hour or two spent in the garden. I fertilized the vegetables, the backyard gardenia and lantana and roses with 2 gallons of neptune's own. I also pruned back the knockout roses in the front by almost one third. And I destroyed the privet. Damn that felt good.

Couldn't catch a fish, but caught me a local treasure...

So I've had no luck catching a fish on my own. I'll admit, I didn't try THAT hard the other day (I think we had the line in the water for about an hour with no bait). A large one jumped clear out of the water about 20 feet away as if to taunt me, but he wasn't simple enough to bite at MY fishing line. Oh well - I will try fishing again when I return to Norway. Here's a pic of me as a fishing virgin. What a place to fish.. :)

Forget fishing - I caught a local treasure I will be talking about for a while. Johan Setnes - a teacher and resident here in Andalsnes runs his own small winery, started as a hobby in 1980 since becoming a recognized cellar and tasting attraction for those who enjoy fruit wine. Using only local organic fruit or herbs (strawberry, apricot, plum, birch tree, cloudberries etc.) - some from his own garden, he produces his wine, with 14 cellars at his disposal.  

Frozen fruit and berries for wine prep from the surrounding Region

We took a tour of the cellars and tasted about 11 different varieties, all unique and flavorful with different levels of sweetness. Most wines run around 11-12% in alcohol content, and depending on what you drink you could become intoxicated *very* fast if you aren't careful. The plum wine had virtually no sign of alcohol going down and was incredibly smooth. Others less so - and more to my personal liking. Some of the wines were quite sweet (for instance, yellow gooseberry or raspberry), and others quite rounded in flavor, having a deliciously 'funky' taste to them - like the 21-year aged Lingonberry, blueberry and Cranberry blend we tried in the last candlelit stone cellar towards the end of the tour. This bottle was my favorite:

21-year blend - a 6 out of 6 from Norwegian wine experts

Our tasting of this wine in a candlelit cellar

His process is fairly straight-forward - Johan collects the fruit and freezes it (this adds more flavor, he tells us). Then after crushing for juice, he adds yeast and lets it sit for approximately ten days. It is then added to a container and eventually topped off with sugar water. The next step is to release all the air that may be left in the containers (plastic device at the top of the containers below), which you do slowly over time. 

Release the gases!

When the bubbles are gone (about three months), you switch it over to a glass container where it goes through a process of resting. He stores most wines in glass containers for years before bottling. Once bottled, they are stored in his slightly damp and cool cellar - some for over a decade. All this was understood by me quite vaguely as it was told to us in Norwegian and my translator was doing his best but had to summarize at times rather quickly (my boyfriend). Any mystery about the process can be dispelled as Johan has published a book about it - in Norwegian, of course. :)

Stored bottles - the wall grows substantial mold - part of the process

I've been to wine tastings, but this one trumps the rest. The small cellars provided a cozy and intimate atmosphere, and Johan's personal attendance and lecture of his process and wines was a treat - not just because of their flavors :) I begged him to sell me a bottle of the Birch Tree or blended berry wines but his bottles are not for sale. If you want Johan's wine, you can only sip it at a tasting here in Andalsnes - frustrating INDEED. Taxes mainly prevent him from selling them, but he clearly enjoys giving the lectures in person - and receiving company from people who come to taste what he has lovingly produced. Oh well. Guess I'll have to come back.

Johan Setnes with  his wines - WWW.TUENVIN.NET

watermelon margarita and the existential crisis

We bought a watermelon the other day. This is a very southern thing, and being a westerner, I view it with no small amount of suspicion. In the desert, no fruit would be allowed to hold this much fluid. Not without attracting all manner of beast and foul that would, eventually, spell its doom. Growing up, watermelon was something we found prepackaged in cellophane. I couldn't really figure out what it looked like until I was old enough to piece it all together.

In any case, the point here is that we bought a watermelon, and it turns out they are utter beasts. Not even eating watermelon every day put a dent in this monster. And so I lugged the half we still had up to the kitchen, pulped it, pulverized it in the blender, strained it, and then made watermelon margaritas. The formula went roughly this way:

6 oz. tequila
4 oz. watermelon essence
4 oz. lime juice
1 oz. triple sec
squeeze of agave syrup
turn of the sea salt wheel

Made adjustments with each batch, but this was bout as much as I could get into the shaker at any given time. It was heaven.

Which brings me to the existential crisis. I know this is a simple watermelon margarita, but it was the first one I had and it did not follow the crappy recipes I found online. So I'm claiming it. But I don't have a name for it. Our guests suggested a few names, all of which had my name in it. But I don't want to go there. Instead, I want something that either plays on southern or western themes. But doesn't mix them. Here's what I've come up with:

The Sound and the Fury (Faulkner)
Darl's Potable (also Faulkner)
Evening Redness (McCarthy)
Watermelon Margarita (from the interweb)

skirting the steak

The skirt steak hangs beneath the ribs, and along with the hanger and the flank is probably my favorite cut of meat not called ribeye (or tenderloin, although it's been so long I don't even recall what it tastes like). I'm actually a huge fan of the flavorful cuts, and enjoy playing around with them. The similarities between the skirt and the hanger are remarkable. They both carry a distinctive texture, on the tougher side and certainly chewy, but nothing like the leathery brisket. Their flavor is deep and rich, almost organ-like.

I have no recollection of ever cooking a skirt, although my blog tells me I had skirt steak fajitas in January of 2011. Now I will buy them regularly. They are cheap. They are delicious. They take marinades well. They go great with any variety of sides, especially greens.

I eyeballed a rub of kosher salt, paprika, ancho chili powder, and brown sugar. Then I patted the rub on the steak and let it sink in while I chopped an onion. I mixed about a quarter onion with crushed garlic and several tablespoons of lime juice, then dumped the sauce on the steak in a plastic bag. Off to the fridge. Took it out about an hour before cooking.

The grill spiked the temp gauge (again), but I'm pretty sure that it was close 950 degrees. It actually had come back down to 750 by the time I put the steak on. The grill was hot, and I did season it with olive oil.

I had no timer, but I let the steak sit uncovered over the coals for about a minute and a half aside, or at least what felt like a minute and a half a side. Then I closed the grill and shut down the vents for another couple of minutes. Steak was done pretty much perfectly.

steaks and a simple rub

Alright, my camera does not take closeups well

It's been a while.

We pulled two ribeyes for grilling. Some aspects of the grilling went quite well, others not so much. I will indicate here in bold what steps I did not do that I ought to have done, but otherwise will try to treat this as the definitive big green egg backdoor steak grilling guide.

One point: I'm finding that rubs ought not to be too complicated. One maybe two herbs. My new french thyme ought to go well with this.

1. start the fire. It will likely take more than half an hour, and the coals should be evenly lit and white all over. I am now consistently getting the egg to temperatures of above 800 degrees (I'm pegging the needle past 750, so I don't really know how hot it is), and the result is excellent. Make sure the grill gets white hot before you add the steaks.
2. try to get steaks that are at least 1 1/2 inches thick. This round was 1 inch at best. Actually, everyone around me seems to prefer the 1 inch. I prefer my steaks thicker, as I like the difference in texture from crust to slightly cool center. In any case, the directions here are for 1 inch steaks.
3. prepare a rub with ample olive oil, cracked pepper, chopped rosemary (or equivalent chopped herb), and kosher salt. Now give the steaks a shiatsu. Top with garlic salt, but only a thin layer.
4. slash the edges of the steak. They will curl if you neglect to do this.
5. Prepare the timer and get to the grill.
6. hit them hard, over direct heat, for 1:45 each side. 
7. On the second flip, turn the steaks (crosshatching the grill marks), and close up the vents. The egg will belch smoke out of any hole it can find.
8. After 3 more minutes, carefully open vents, burp grill, then open. Flip the steaks over, then close up the vents again.
9. After 3 more minutes, the steaks are ready. Let them sit for five minutes (at least) before serving.

sizzazzle

This is probably quite close to the last set of directions I posted. I have tried different manners of "closing the vents." This time I put the green lid on the top (completely closing it) and left the bottom open. The second time around I closed both. I can't say I'm completely happy with the results, but only because the grill markings were uneven (probably the result of not using enough charcoal to create an even fire) and one of the steaks curled a bit. I do believe that a thicker steak, properly slashed and with a good coal bed underneath it would end up with a happier result.

An ill omen indeed

This morning I fertilized the tomato plants, spreading nearly two gallons over all of them. This represents the heaviest fertilizing I have completed to date. But given that the soil must be weakening and the plants are getting ready to bear fruit, I was anxious to accelerate the fertilizing schedule and increase its volume.

I fertilized at about eight thirty this morning. I should have done it earlier to avoid even more evaporation. When I left the house at nine, the smell of fish emulsion was still heavy in the moist morning air. Will water tomorrow to counteract our droughty conditions.

Also, I saw this sign on my way to work today. I'm still puzzling over it. In relation to my garden, this might be an omen. My second crop of tomatoes may disappoint. Or perhaps the lettuce I plan to plant next weekend will not take. Maybe the squirrels will tighten their racket and take a larger share. I feel oddly concerned.