Fish and Chips... and neighbors

We are really lucky people. We get to share meals from time to time with some of our fabulous neighbors, and tonight was one of those nights. I couldn't resist picking up some Atlantic cod this weekend when shopping, and knew exactly who I wanted to share it with; our neighbors Ami and Craig (and their 2 sons). I felt a little guilty popping it in the freezer on Saturday, but we knew we wouldn't be able to get it cooked before tonight, so that eased some of my guilt. And since I knew it was going to become part of a fish and chips dinner, well, that pushed all my guilt aside. Some careful defrosting can actually help keep the fish moist when it gets cooked in such high heat, I find.


I found myself on the hot seat tonight, because one of our neighbors has strong roots in the Boston area, a real New England-er who loves quality seafood, and is not afraid to wax passionately about the dearth of good seafood out here in the Midwest.  As an east coast guy, I can relate. I'm not a huge seafood fan, but when I do indulge, I'm pretty particular myself. And fish and chips is pretty often poorly done, quite frankly. As finicky as I can be about the quality of the fish, I am even more of a snob about a good batter. I pride myself on having learned some great secrets from a host of great chefs/cooks over the years, and think I do a better than average job batter-dipping a good dinner.


I had a bit of a scare early on in the cooking tonight. I try to keep folks out of the kitchen as much as possible when I deep fry, even more so now that we have a young daughter in the house (and the next one coming soon...). Unfortunately, I was less prudent with my pug, and as I did the first fry on the first batch of fries, there was a bit of a spatter that bubbled up just as he was passing under foot. I was able to get him scooped up, rinsed off, and noted no harm, although I think he thought I was a bit nuts for my dramatic reaction. After a good long "oh-my-G-d-I'm-glad-you're-OK" hug, I got back to work. Knowing that I'd be holding the fries in the oven for a few minutes while I cooked the fish, I wanted to be sure they would be as crispy as possible, so I did the twice-fried method, partially cooking them the first time at a lower temperature, draining them, cooling them, and setting them aside to finish them up later.


After the second trip to the fryer, the potatoes were seasoned and kept warm, and I turned my attention to the main attraction. I like to keep things on the simple side with my batter, and for fish and chips, I'm a big fan of using beer. In general, carbonated liquid is my rule of thumb, as I find the batter that results is substantially lighter and "puffier" than with a non-carbonated liquid. And since the beer packs a whole lot of flavor-punch on its own, I tend not to add much more to the mix. For my flour dredge, I did add a bit of a slightly-sharp Hungarian paprika, something with the slightest bit of zip right up next to the fish itself. The batter was simply flour, salt, pepper, and a nice wheat ale that had a slightly sweet flavor. Sadly, I can't seem to recall what I used, and the bottle is down in the recycle bin now. No matter; just as long as you cook with something you'd actually drink, it works out just fine. It's mostly important to avoid overpowering the food with something too strong; Guinness would be a deal-breaker on this one, for sure.


I asked that the neighbors bring some malt vinegar (something I was surprised to discover was absent from our collection of vinegars) and some cole slaw (I just love a nice cole slaw with fried fish), and they obliged my request, rounding out the meal.


The verdict

I got a pic before my wife could dig in ...
Wish the fish was in the foreground. Oh well.

I've been thinking a lot lately about how disconnected folks often are from their neighbors, from their extended families, and sometimes even from immediate family. As a nation, we have spread out, and more than ever, I think, we could do with a good dose of re-connection, finding points of commonality with those who are around us and building on them to strengthen our roots where we live in the face of such distances. Sure, we get to connect up in virtual spaces easily, and we do build and strengthen relationships in them, but there is something special about the day-in, day-out bond shared with the people who live in the neighborhood. I suppose I've ranted about this before, but it bears repeating.


So for those of you who live far from family and haven't connected up with someone in the neighborhood, I urge you to reach out and share a meal together. Share your stories, find the things that you have in common, and build some kind of relationship with them. Food is a great way to start a rich dialog about your pasts, your upbringing, your families, and the things you value and cherish. We shared some great stories tonight about "house rules" for mealtimes growing up, and that led to some great laughs, sure, but more importantly it let us know a little more about what shaped us into who we are now. As much as I like to preach about having family mealtime, it is also important to open that up once in a while and invite in the people you like. For us, living in a city, that means people we share the sidewalk with, gripe about parking and transit with, and in our case, share a deck space with, back doors just inches apart. Having had the great fortune of getting to know them over the past few years, I knew they would appreciate my effort at good seafood, and they did.


The verdict is simple; the fish was moist and tasty, and the beer added just enough flavor to make things interesting. I don't think the neighbors were at all disappointed. The fries held up great, and I managed to avoid over-salting them for a change (I've had some heavy-handed moments on that front recently). The slaw was a nice, cool, crispy addition, and the malt vinegar was spot-on.  I would love to have a kitchen where deep frying was a simpler option. Deep frying gets a bad rap; it can be done sensibly, and if you do it right, you shouldn't be eating a ton of the oil anyway. But since it is an ordeal to set up the fryer, and even bigger ordeal to tear it down, clean it up, and contend with the oil, I'll probably keep it in the "sometimes food" category for now (it certainly isn't a half-hour-to-the-table meal making fish and chips). Well, at least as long as we live here, with our reasonable but modest-sized kitchen, alongside some of the best neighbors we could ever want, I'll keep it that way.

All hail, Caesar!

I had some chicken in the fridge on grocery day, so when I saw the romaine staring at me in the produce section today, I figured dinner was a done deal; Caesar salad with grilled lemon pepper chicken and portabella mushrooms. I also recalled that we had a fair bit of garlic left around, and knowing I would use much of what was at home was a good excuse to buy more (as if I ever need an excuse to buy more garlic). My only concern was the weather. I had to hope that the rain would stay away when grilling time came. It did, thankfully.


I haven't made a Caesar dressing in a while, and unless things are already prepped, it does take a bit of time to come together. That makes it more appropriate for a weekend than a weeknight in our house. But since the chicken breasts were rather thick, I figured I had ample time to work on the dressing anyway. I stuck to the basics; egg yolk, olive oil, garlic (lots of it - we love our garlic in our house), Parmesan cheese, anchovies (I know, some folks consider this inauthentic or unnecessary, but it is one of the places where I feel an anchovy has a culinary home), Worcestershire sauce, etc. I was glad that we had an extra lemon on hand, as fresh lemon juice always beats the bottle in a dressing. I think I was overly generous with the lemon juice in the dressing tonight, but only to the point of making the dressing a bit brighter than I usually care for.


The verdict


There is a certain kind of joy in a simple salad for a meal, and making the dressing from scratch, for me, makes all the difference. We had a bit of garlic bread - nice and crispy - with our salads tonight. The mushrooms were a good addition to the standard presentation. I suppose my thoughts on there being too much lemon might be because I used it on the chicken as well as in the dressing. Maybe a simpler or less citrus-y chicken preparation might do the trick next time. 


For some, this would have been a case of garlic overload. For us, it was just right. I appreciated the gesture my wife made, leaning her very pregnant self across the table to share a garlic-y kiss with me in appreciation of the effort. 

A small victory and a basic meal

As I have mentioned here previously, we have been working to get our daughter, our three-year-old daughter, to expand her food horizons. We grew painfully tired of "Mickey Mouse Chicken" nuggets (at least they had a whole wheat breading substance on them) and whatever starch du jour tickled her fancy. We have been blessed by her affection for peas, but even on that front she was particular. Last week, we got her to try the grilled pork chops, much to my surprise and delight. And we even managed a small victory getting her to try a hot dog again (something she had and liked a while ago, but began to resist). 


Tonight, it was a hamburger. Our little one helped me make the patties, and I think that really primed her interest. We made perfect circles using a biscuit cutter, and I could not get over her simple joy in seeing the perfectly round burgers emerge after each cut. She even watched as I added some sliced cheddar as they finished up on the grill.  We also managed to get her to try (and like) some corn again. 


The verdict


There isn't really anything to say about the culinary endeavor. This was just a basic, simple meal after a supremely busy work day that started far too early. I reached the bottom of my jar of my Famous Dave's spicy pickles, finally. I'll miss them, and hope to find them again on another Costco run - at least that's where I think I found them last. I suppose I could order them online, too, but there are too many good pickles out there to feel the necessity, really.


The only real verdict here is that we are making progress, day by day, in helping our daughter grow beyond her comfort zone and try some new foods. I am finding a pleasant new challenge in balancing the things that I know my wife and I will enjoy with those that are still, well, "tame" enough for a young, sensitive palate. If a burger is a viable option, at least I know we'll have a pleasant summer. I just wonder how she'd feel about goat cheese next time?

Grilled pork chops - the season begins early.

We have been absolutely blessed with amazingly mild weather all winter long in Chicago this year, and March has been downright balmy. I was thrilled to step out onto the deck tonight and briefly share the company of our neighbor and his son. They came out to fire up their grill just after I got mine started for the first time this year. I should note that it was his son grilling up cheeseburgers, and it makes me immensely happy to see a young teen already finding a love of cooking.  After a day of problems and setbacks, I was pleased to find my grill in perfect working order, and with ample propane on hand. I decided to reach back far into my bag of cooking tricks and make a pork chop dish that has been a staple of mine for well over 2 decades.


I'm a big fan of Italian sausage made with fennel seed (I know some who prefer it without), but I've really been feeling the burden of my winter spare tire, so the leaner option - a lean pork chop with a similar flavor - made a whole lot more sense.  When making this pork dish on the grill (rather than under a broiler on on the stovetop), I prefer to pound in my seasonings on at least one side before cooking. The seasonings tend to stay in place better, which is really no small feat with fennel seeds. I added something I picked up on a whim this weekend at the grocery store; some dehydrated red onion flakes. Along with these and the fennel seeds, I topped the pork with oregano, crushed red pepper, garlic salt, and black pepper. Truly basic, but it packs a flavorful punch. I managed to find one of my silicone brushes (sans handle) in with my daughter's toys allowing me to brush on some olive oil before grilling, rather than pouring it all over the place. (I think the child and I are going to have to have a serious conversation soon about which kitchen items are for playing, and which are MINE!)


The verdict


Tender, juicy, and bursting with flavor. If you are not a fan of fennel, I promise not to make you eat this if you visit. If you are, you will LOVE this. Since this was the first grilling of the season, I served this up with some simple buttered corn (maize, if you will). Here's the amazing part; we got our daughter to try the pork, and she kept eating it! I thought that it would be either too exotic or too spicy, frankly, but there you have it. She ate a fair bit of it, too. It is especially rewarding to have her actually like something that is a favorite of mine. It didn't hurt that there was strawberry shortcake as a reward for dessert. She ended up eating some pound cake and whipped cream in the end, so I suppose I should feel even greater pride knowing that my pork chops beat out some sweetened strawberries (if not the cake and whipped cream).


I enjoyed a spot of unremarkable Malbec with this. Ever since our honeymoon in Mendoza, it is hard for me to eat grilled meats without thinking of Malbec, and it is essentially our staple wine at this point. 


Another hard day wiped away by a good meal.

Ribeye cipollata

I have to give due credit to Raffaele Gironda, my old boss at Raffaele Italian Restaurant in Southern Pines, NC, for inspiring tonight's dinner. Many years ago, before I started working for him, I was a fairly regular patron at his restaurant, and I enjoyed many great steaks (and other dishes) there. Among my favorites was a ribeye cipollata that he would serve that was, and I'm sure still is (even if it isn't on the menu,) simply fabulous. I didn't have, nor did I want particularly large cuts of ribeye for our meal tonight. It isn't a matter of price, as I'm more than willing to pay for a great (and thick) cut of quality beef. Rather, our budget is frequently tightest when it comes to time, and I do strive to cook at least a few fresh meals a week (sparing us endless leftovers at least some of the time), so that means getting it on the table in a half hour or less. 


I broke out the trusty old cast iron skillet tonight, and sauteed some onions (seasoned, and with a splash of beef stock), set them aside, quickly seared the thin cuts of ribeye, and then topped them with the onions and some mozzarella and provolone. A brief trip under the broiler, and there it was; dinner. But as much as I enjoyed it, as quick and easy as this take was, it sure didn't hold up to Raffaele's. It's hard to compare a slap-dash home version of something you love to the real deal, when the real deal was flame grilled, when the onions weren't rushed, and frankly, when someone else was doing the work. I love cooking, sure, but I also like indulging in someone else's great cooking when I can, too. What's more, my wine selection most assuredly pales in comparison to my Calabrian friend's; so much so that I (sadly) took a pass on the wine completely tonight.


The verdict


Don't get me wrong; this was a solid effort, and a really tasty dinner. I hit the onions with just a bit too much salt, but it didn't break things. I also know my audience, so I kept the cheese layer a notch below what I would have liked. We did end up finishing off a few leftover side dishes with this, so in spite of my statement about keeping things fresh, I was only partially successful on that front. 


I am glad the skillet made an appearance tonight. I've not used it nearly enough lately, and I do adore mine. It isn't easy to find one with so amazingly smooth a surface any more, so I will keep mine going as long as humanly possible. I look forward to passing it down to the next generation. I really don't think a kitchen is complete without at least one of these around.


Ultimately, I think I just want to visit NC again about now, pull up a seat at the bar, share a glass of wine with my old friend, talk about old times, and sink my teeth into the dish that inspired me. 

Sliders

Tonight was a pretty simple night for dinner. While shopping last weekend, my wife spotted some slider buns, and we decided at some point during the week that would be our dinner. I was glad to oblige her craving, as it is a rare day that I pass up a chance to eat a burger. I did want to add a bit of zing to the meal, however. Blending shredded cheddar right into the burger is an old trick, and I was glad to use it. But that still left me with a pretty basic burger. I opted to make a quick garlic-heavy mayo to spread on the buns. Simple stuff - egg yolk, oil, etc., but we love our garlic in our house, so I did not hold back one bit. Besides, my arms were stiff, and the workout with the whisk did me some good.


I made a potato salad as well. They were selling modest-sized bags of small red & white potatoes this past week, and I am glad I grabbed some. The salad, too, was pretty basic. I've been using  Hellmann's olive oil mayonnaise lately, and simply love it.* A bit of yellow mustard, some chopped up dill pickle, salt and pepper... and our old standby - crumbled bacon. I've mentioned in a previous post that we keep a bag of Costco (Kirkland) brand  crumbled, pre-cooked bacon on hand at all times. It really added a nice touch to the salad. 


The verdict


Some plain old green beans on the side made this feel more like a summer cookout than a late-winter meal. The potato salad meet my wife's most important criterion for a good side dish - "not too mayo-ey." I loved the bacon in the mix. I don't make potato salad quite the same way every time, and I definitely don't always add the bacon.  


The burgers were juicy, perfectly cooked, and I swear, they were doing something unspeakable on the bun with that garlic mayo, because I felt just a bit naughty after I ate this meal, like I was some kind of voyeur to a culinary hook-up. The garlic is still dancing around on my palate, and I look forward to that hint of goodness the rest of the night. My only regret is that I made the darn burgers just a little thicker than I would have cared for. I was counting on more - uh - shrinkage, but the meat was leaner than I'd thought it would be.


The real bonus I sometimes get at dinner time, of course, is when I get my daughter to agree to help me cook. Tonight, she helped make the burgers, and put the potatoes into the pot (before they went onto the stove, of course). We haven't gotten her to eat a burger yet, but we did convince her yesterday that hot dogs were ok, so she did have one of those tonight. At least she was adding to the summer cookout vibe. It's been a challenge getting her to branch out. I convinced her to try a potato, and I think having her "help cook" them may have been key (although bribery helps). Of course, if what I thought helped her overcome her recent fussiness with eating, we would be past that stage already...


* - I might also note that I grew up eating only Hellmann's when I did eat mayo. As a kid, that was rare. There's a story behind why, but that's another day...

Pan-seared Goat and Lamb Chops

I'm back. I was away from the blog, and for some stretch of time, my kitchen as well. I'm sure I'll find the time and the right words to write about why in the future, but for now, I will keep my focus on tonight's dinner.


I'm not usually one for keeping things all that long in the freezer, but at the end of last farmers' market season, we purchased some frozen goat chops, and I have not had the chance to cook them until today. The goat came from Mint Creek Farm, and even though I'd had it frozen this whole winter, it was still amazing. Since I had just 4 rack chops to work with, I picked up some lamb this weekend at the local Dominick's grocery store, just to be sure I kept plenty of protein on the table. Although we had some warm weather again in Chicago today, I was not ready to brave the strong winds for grilling. And frankly, I had something better in mind anyway.


I pan-seared the chops in some butter, with a simple sprinkling of kosher salt, pepper, and a bit of oregano. Once seared, I quickly sauteed a couple of larger shallots in the remaining butter and pan drippings, deglazed with the wine I was serving, reduced somewhat, and then thickened  with a bit of au jus and corn starch I had on hand. I did not smother the succulent meat, but rather served the shallots on the side. No need to bury good meat, even if the sauce is delicious.


I got lazy with the veggies, and served up some microwave-in-the-bag asparagus. I just don't feel guilty about such indulgences, as it is not easy getting dinner on the table in about 35-40 minutes on a weeknight, especially after a challenging work day. I was equally lazy, but more inventive, with my starch. I added a bit of goat cheese, crushed pistachios, and raisins to some rice (again, with just a dash of salt, pepper, and oregano). It was incredibly easy to put together, and may become a recurring side dish in our house after tonight.


The verdict


The lamb was pedestrian, I felt. Tasty, yes, but unremarkable. Even though the goat had been frozen for months, it still tasted fresher than the lamb. Had the lamb been the only thing on the table, I would have been disappointed in the meal, frankly. But the goat was succulent, perfectly cooked, tender, and my wife and I were both licking our fingers and gnawing on the last bits of meat clinging to the bones. The shallot/wine reduction was an excellent complement for both meats, but the simplicity of the meat (specifically, the goat) would have been more than acceptable. 


The rice was a huge hit, and I don't know how I managed to leave the table without a more gluttonous rendezvous with that dish. Crushing the pistachios was the right call, as it kept the consistency just right. Had I left the nuts whole, I think some of the joy would have faded in the excessive chewing. The goat cheese was a perfectly logical marriage with the main course, and blended well with the sweetness of the raisins.


The wine was fairly good, although I was hoping for a bit bigger flavor. But my choice was based in part on the fact that I'm still not indulging in much wine as my wife nears her due date for our second child; I just grabbed something that looked passable with less thought than I would like to admit. It did extremely well in the sauce, however. I've not had much Côtes-du-Rhône in recent times, but this one was in on hand and ready to go, so it fit the bill well enough.


I can't wait for the Andersonville Farmers' Market to return so I can get my hands on more goodies, and this meal reminded my of why I love it so darn much. For our family, urban life makes us appreciate the fruits of the land and the labors behind them all the more, and such markets give us a few hours a month to come at least a little closer to our food sources. It makes it feel worthwhile to spend the extra money to know that we are helping keep smaller food producers viable, and I can't wait to put more goat dishes on the table this summer as we do our part, as the consumers, to keep such organic, smaller-scale producers in the game.