I'm always on the lookout for good cheap wine. After all, good wine is easy to find if you're willing to drop a couple bucks, but there's plenty to drink in the under $15 a bottle range. During this holiday season I've been checking out some of the large size offerings, and I've found two favorites:
Pinot Evil This wine comes in a box. It wasn't too long ago that box wine was a joke. In fact it often wasn't even pure wine, often having to be labeled "wine with other natural flavors". Awful stuff, but cheap. Times have changed, and Pinot Evil, which my brother has been drinking for a while now is a nice example. It's a Pinot Noir that comes in a box with cheezy "see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil" monkey graphics, defying my prejudice against "critter wines". It's sourced from two places, Ile-de-Beaune, France and Hungary. Both are light bodied, as one expects wine from this grape to be. Unlike New World Pinots these wines aren't very soft and plummy. They don't have the bright cherry and refreshing acid you'd find in a good Burgundy, but they are both restrained and simple, which is all I can ask for a budget wine. My experience has been the Hungarian version has a bit more spice, but both are fine for quaffing or accompanying lightish meals. And at about $20 for a 3L box this wine works out the be the same as $5 a bottle, making it one of the cheapest wines I've found this year that's actually some kind of a pleasure to drink.
Barefoot Merlot I'm sure you've seen this one around, in magnums for under $10. (As cheap as Pinot Evil above). This soft, jammy Merlot is just a bit too light on the acid and slightly too heavy on the residual sugar to be anything like a fine wine, but it is drinkable, with no off flavors. It's a blast of soft fruit, but not as heavily extracted as many inexpensive Argentine and Australian wines. Perfect for parties and casual fans of California Merlot.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Winter Udon
Back to the Northeast and snow, and guess what? Noodle soup is perfect for it! This particular one is both easy and delicious, not to mention economical. As with any soup remember how easy it is to get more of the stuff than you were planning on making. I always make too much and end up having the leftovers for lunch the next day. This soup is not like a stew that improves from an overnight rest in the fridge, so best not to go crazy with the quantities unless you're feeding a group.
For the noodles I use 1lb packages of cooked udon that I get in Chinatown for just over a dollar. Since this is the kind of item that could get expensive in a fancy supermarket I'd recommend a trip to an Asian market for the noodles. A pound of cooked udon will feed two very hungry people or as many as four or five with more modest appetites.
Here's what you need to make this at home:
1 small head Chinese Cabbage, cut up (or more to taste)
2-3 shitake mushrooms per person, stems removed and tops scored in a criss-cross pattern
meat of 1 chicken thigh per person
1-2oz tofu cut into bite size cubes per person
1 soup bowl of water per person
Soy sauce
Chinese cooking wine (optional)
pinch sugar
3 scallions per person, cut in 1/2 inch lengths
1 package cooked udon noodles
Start off with the water in a pot, adding soy sauce until the water picks up a light brown color and is a little less salty than you want your soup to be. In goes a generous glug of the cooking wine (if using) and every other ingredient except the tofu, scallions and noodles. Slowly bring to a boil. Add tofu and scallions, then reduce to low heat. You know everything is cooked through when the mushrooms are soft. In a separate pot bring some water to a boil, and toss the cooked noodles into it for a minute or so to get them ready to serve. Drain noodles, place a serving in the bottom of each serving bowl and ladle in the hot broth, veggies, meat and tofu. Eat with both chopsticks and a spoon.
For the noodles I use 1lb packages of cooked udon that I get in Chinatown for just over a dollar. Since this is the kind of item that could get expensive in a fancy supermarket I'd recommend a trip to an Asian market for the noodles. A pound of cooked udon will feed two very hungry people or as many as four or five with more modest appetites.
Here's what you need to make this at home:
1 small head Chinese Cabbage, cut up (or more to taste)
2-3 shitake mushrooms per person, stems removed and tops scored in a criss-cross pattern
meat of 1 chicken thigh per person
1-2oz tofu cut into bite size cubes per person
1 soup bowl of water per person
Soy sauce
Chinese cooking wine (optional)
pinch sugar
3 scallions per person, cut in 1/2 inch lengths
1 package cooked udon noodles
Start off with the water in a pot, adding soy sauce until the water picks up a light brown color and is a little less salty than you want your soup to be. In goes a generous glug of the cooking wine (if using) and every other ingredient except the tofu, scallions and noodles. Slowly bring to a boil. Add tofu and scallions, then reduce to low heat. You know everything is cooked through when the mushrooms are soft. In a separate pot bring some water to a boil, and toss the cooked noodles into it for a minute or so to get them ready to serve. Drain noodles, place a serving in the bottom of each serving bowl and ladle in the hot broth, veggies, meat and tofu. Eat with both chopsticks and a spoon.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Lox Without Bagels
I've been in LA for a little while, and this New Yorker is suffering from the lack of easily obtainable good bagels. That doesn't mean I'm going without smoked salmon. I've just had to vary my presentation of the stuff. Here are two recipes that have been getting some play in my Los Feliz kitchen to good effect.
Bagel Topping Omelette
I'm not kidding - this is delicious. To serve two make a three egg omelette filled with chopped lox, chopped red onion, dollops of cream cheese and capers. I'm dumbfounded this isn't a standard brunch item.
Lox Pasta
Cook half a pound of pasta to al dente and drain. In the pasta pot over medium heat toss olive oil, chopped garlic, chopped parsley and capers with chopped lox and pasta. I use 2-3 ounces of lox. A squeeze of lemon juice doesn't hurt, nor does a small amount of finely chopped lemon zest added with the garlic. Serve with a salad and white wine. (Yes, this dish is equally good with canned tuna in olive oil instead of lox, but the salmon makes for an unexpected twist. Try it.)
Bagel Topping Omelette
I'm not kidding - this is delicious. To serve two make a three egg omelette filled with chopped lox, chopped red onion, dollops of cream cheese and capers. I'm dumbfounded this isn't a standard brunch item.
Lox Pasta
Cook half a pound of pasta to al dente and drain. In the pasta pot over medium heat toss olive oil, chopped garlic, chopped parsley and capers with chopped lox and pasta. I use 2-3 ounces of lox. A squeeze of lemon juice doesn't hurt, nor does a small amount of finely chopped lemon zest added with the garlic. Serve with a salad and white wine. (Yes, this dish is equally good with canned tuna in olive oil instead of lox, but the salmon makes for an unexpected twist. Try it.)
Saturday, October 24, 2009
As American as Olive Oil and Wine
Roze, of the blog MorelsAndMore (www.morselsandmore.blogspot.com) started a discussion a couple weeks ago of just what constitutes American food. It got me thinking about the history of our cuisine, including recent changes in how we eat. I personally couldn't imagine surviving without olive oil and wine, but these are recent arrivals on many American tables. Here's my take on how they got there. Apologies to Fussell and Pollan.
America is a frontier nation that turned middle class aspirant after the Industrial Revolution and never looked back. The frontier mentality viewed any attention turned toward refining cuisine as effete. How could anyone possibly do better than a steak and a piece of pie? There was a time in our history where if you weren't a farmer or a member of the gentry you were probably living on beans, fatback and corn bread (and corn whiskey). That was American cuisine, and if that wasn't good enough for you, you were a snob! When we finally grew into an affluent nation capable of turning it's attention toward cuisine we'd developed a deep class anxiety. Everyone was out for the comfort and constraint of a middle class lifestyle. This reached its height in the postwar boom.
The definition of "classy" in America mostly came from Anglophilic Northeasterners. They ate bland food, and a nation aspiring to better themselves took the cue from them. (Think of those bland warhorse dishes that were the height of American cuisine until the latter part the last century: Beef Wellington and Lobster Thermidor). After all, who was eating spicy, boldly flavored food? Poor people, mostly immigrants and the descendants of slaves. Ethnic foods were spicy. Prejudice against bold flavor has only recently begun to unravel in American cuisine. We still have a way to go.
But we've made progress, as evidenced by our choices of wine and salad dressing.
Ranch dressing is incredibly popular in America. What is it, really? A buttermilk riff on German yogurt dressing. Mayo based dressings have been equally popular here. The default in most of the Western world is vinaigrette. Why is it only recently catching on in America? First, vinaigrette has a sharp flavor. Sharp flavors traditionally don't do well with us unless they're offset by sweetness, like in ketchup or BBQ sauce. (When vinegar was used to dress American salads it was often offset with sugar, hence my lack of surprise over the recent popularity of balsamic vinegar). Also, vinaigrette contains a ethnic ingredient that Americans have only very recently embraced: olive oil. Not very Anglophilic stuff. C.E. Edgar naming Popeye's love interest Olive Oyl sent a very clear class signal about her: she was the daughter of immigrants - a woman from the lower rung of society. A perfect fit for his free-swearing sailor character.
Wine is equally telling. Until very recently who in America was drinking wine? The elite, drunks, Italians, Jews and those wacky Californians. American wine was sweet (much of it still is). Makes sense, as both the Germans and the English traditionally had an affinity for sweet wine, and our food culture owes more to them than we realize. (The American affinity for sweet drinks was unparalleled, though. In the past only the most dirt poor would drink water. Summertime soft drinks were lemonade or sweet tea. It's no surprise that Pemberton's temperance era creation has become as much a symbol of America as our flag). The elite may have been drinking dry wine, but it was, of course, imported. And they were considered snobs, so their opinion didn't count, anyways. I'm old enough to shudder over the memory of wine coolers and white zinfandel.
How did both olive oil and drier wines lose their stigmas and gain American acceptance? In a uniquely American manner: food fads. As a nation with shallow food roots we're given to food fads. As a capitalist country there's incentive to encourage such fads because there are pots of money to be made from them. 1970's lipophobia transformed olive oil from an ethnic novelty to a mainstay of the American kitchen, but only here would we market "lite" olive oil for those who found its flavor too bold. More recent studies that showed the health benefits of wine led to it becoming commonplace on the American table. Still, most American wines are fruity and less than dry. But drier wines that pair well with food can now be found just about anywhere in America. I think that's a good thing.
There you have one benefit of our current obsession with eating our way to health; we're starting to get over some longstanding food prejudices. (Of course this obsession is ironic, given how much of our food is anything but healthy). We even seem to be on the edge of spicy food losing its stigma, which is exciting, but that will be a later post.
America is a frontier nation that turned middle class aspirant after the Industrial Revolution and never looked back. The frontier mentality viewed any attention turned toward refining cuisine as effete. How could anyone possibly do better than a steak and a piece of pie? There was a time in our history where if you weren't a farmer or a member of the gentry you were probably living on beans, fatback and corn bread (and corn whiskey). That was American cuisine, and if that wasn't good enough for you, you were a snob! When we finally grew into an affluent nation capable of turning it's attention toward cuisine we'd developed a deep class anxiety. Everyone was out for the comfort and constraint of a middle class lifestyle. This reached its height in the postwar boom.
The definition of "classy" in America mostly came from Anglophilic Northeasterners. They ate bland food, and a nation aspiring to better themselves took the cue from them. (Think of those bland warhorse dishes that were the height of American cuisine until the latter part the last century: Beef Wellington and Lobster Thermidor). After all, who was eating spicy, boldly flavored food? Poor people, mostly immigrants and the descendants of slaves. Ethnic foods were spicy. Prejudice against bold flavor has only recently begun to unravel in American cuisine. We still have a way to go.
But we've made progress, as evidenced by our choices of wine and salad dressing.
Ranch dressing is incredibly popular in America. What is it, really? A buttermilk riff on German yogurt dressing. Mayo based dressings have been equally popular here. The default in most of the Western world is vinaigrette. Why is it only recently catching on in America? First, vinaigrette has a sharp flavor. Sharp flavors traditionally don't do well with us unless they're offset by sweetness, like in ketchup or BBQ sauce. (When vinegar was used to dress American salads it was often offset with sugar, hence my lack of surprise over the recent popularity of balsamic vinegar). Also, vinaigrette contains a ethnic ingredient that Americans have only very recently embraced: olive oil. Not very Anglophilic stuff. C.E. Edgar naming Popeye's love interest Olive Oyl sent a very clear class signal about her: she was the daughter of immigrants - a woman from the lower rung of society. A perfect fit for his free-swearing sailor character.
Wine is equally telling. Until very recently who in America was drinking wine? The elite, drunks, Italians, Jews and those wacky Californians. American wine was sweet (much of it still is). Makes sense, as both the Germans and the English traditionally had an affinity for sweet wine, and our food culture owes more to them than we realize. (The American affinity for sweet drinks was unparalleled, though. In the past only the most dirt poor would drink water. Summertime soft drinks were lemonade or sweet tea. It's no surprise that Pemberton's temperance era creation has become as much a symbol of America as our flag). The elite may have been drinking dry wine, but it was, of course, imported. And they were considered snobs, so their opinion didn't count, anyways. I'm old enough to shudder over the memory of wine coolers and white zinfandel.
How did both olive oil and drier wines lose their stigmas and gain American acceptance? In a uniquely American manner: food fads. As a nation with shallow food roots we're given to food fads. As a capitalist country there's incentive to encourage such fads because there are pots of money to be made from them. 1970's lipophobia transformed olive oil from an ethnic novelty to a mainstay of the American kitchen, but only here would we market "lite" olive oil for those who found its flavor too bold. More recent studies that showed the health benefits of wine led to it becoming commonplace on the American table. Still, most American wines are fruity and less than dry. But drier wines that pair well with food can now be found just about anywhere in America. I think that's a good thing.
There you have one benefit of our current obsession with eating our way to health; we're starting to get over some longstanding food prejudices. (Of course this obsession is ironic, given how much of our food is anything but healthy). We even seem to be on the edge of spicy food losing its stigma, which is exciting, but that will be a later post.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Trader Joe's - The Supermarket for People Who Don't Cook
The Trader Joe's near me in Manhattan is a crowded nightmare, with queues frequently stretching to the back of the store. I can't even go in it. So I'm kind of late in coming to the party, as far as the Trader Joe's love fest is concerned. I've been in friends' apartments and seen quality products they've purchased for cheap at TJ's. I understand how their Aldi-like business model allows this to happen. Skip the middle man, brand it yourself and pass the savings on to the customer. Makes sense. But I never got to wrap my head around the phenomenon that is Trader Joe's... Until now, having just returned from a lovely, spacious, rock and roll themed location on Sunset in West Hollywood.
I get it. It's as clear as day, now. I know why so many rhapsodize about this place. I understand.
You know how the Food Network on TV started out doing cooking shows, then realized that home cooks were a pretty small audience to target? What did they do? They took a cue from popular Japanese television shows, and started airing programs about food geared toward people who didn't actually cook. And what happened? They got huge. My father, who has probably cooked no more than ten meals in his life (other than grilling, of course) watches the Food Network all the time. He loves it. He loves food.
What does this have to do with Trader Joe's? They've pulled off a similarly brilliant move: They've positioned themselves as the supermarket for people who love food, but don't really cook. Most of what they carry could be described as "ready to eat" or "heat and eat" foods - it's a sea of "value added" products. They offer a wide variety, the quality is pretty high and the prices vary from fair to downright cheap! Need your hand held in the kitchen? How about vacuum sealed bags of cooked rice? How about several varieties, variously seasoned and ready for the microwave? That'd go great with that vegetarian Indian entree in aisle four, wouldn't it? (The place is pretty vegetarian friendly - they know their demographic. Like in Whole Foods, young women are disproportionately represented among the shoppers). Looking for the upscale, world-beat, modern versions of the TV dinner, canned soup, snack foods, frozen entrees, dump and stir, heat and eat? Look no further! What about those who might scoff at such processed foods? Lure them in with organic processed foods! Let's see them scoff now! And for the cherry on top of the sundae: unbelievably cheap wine. No wonder the place is a goldmine.
I'll admit I admire it. I wish I'd thought of it. Hell, I wish there had been one near me when I was in college. Then again, I might never have learned to cook if a Trader Joe's had been part of my young life. It might never have occurred to me that a little bit of effort in the kitchen would allow me to do so much better. What motivation would I have had? Some of the stuff they sell is really good, as far as convenience food goes. Yeah, a love of food is part of what got me into cooking, but being a starving musician who wanted to eat a greater variety of foods than I could afford to go out for was an equally big motivating factor. There's so much inexpensive variety at Trader Joe's it's almost scary.
So what's there for me? Not much. I like cheap olive oil, basmati rice, pine nuts, etc, but I can find those things elsewhere. And elsewhere I don't have to wade through mountains of unnecessary packaging, all emblazoned with the Trader Joe's brand name. I'm not going to be tempted by the chicken chipotle wrap sitting next to the plastic container of seven layer dip. Sorry. I'm looking for ingredients from which I'll make my own meals, thank you very much. You can't even buy a bunch of parsley there! What they sell is a few sprigs in a rigid plastic box for the greater part of two dollars. The lion's share of what I bought today was a loaf of bread, some smoked fish, some sliced ham, salad makings and a bag of pasta. Like I said, it's a supermarket for people who don't really cook.
I get it. It's as clear as day, now. I know why so many rhapsodize about this place. I understand.
You know how the Food Network on TV started out doing cooking shows, then realized that home cooks were a pretty small audience to target? What did they do? They took a cue from popular Japanese television shows, and started airing programs about food geared toward people who didn't actually cook. And what happened? They got huge. My father, who has probably cooked no more than ten meals in his life (other than grilling, of course) watches the Food Network all the time. He loves it. He loves food.
What does this have to do with Trader Joe's? They've pulled off a similarly brilliant move: They've positioned themselves as the supermarket for people who love food, but don't really cook. Most of what they carry could be described as "ready to eat" or "heat and eat" foods - it's a sea of "value added" products. They offer a wide variety, the quality is pretty high and the prices vary from fair to downright cheap! Need your hand held in the kitchen? How about vacuum sealed bags of cooked rice? How about several varieties, variously seasoned and ready for the microwave? That'd go great with that vegetarian Indian entree in aisle four, wouldn't it? (The place is pretty vegetarian friendly - they know their demographic. Like in Whole Foods, young women are disproportionately represented among the shoppers). Looking for the upscale, world-beat, modern versions of the TV dinner, canned soup, snack foods, frozen entrees, dump and stir, heat and eat? Look no further! What about those who might scoff at such processed foods? Lure them in with organic processed foods! Let's see them scoff now! And for the cherry on top of the sundae: unbelievably cheap wine. No wonder the place is a goldmine.
I'll admit I admire it. I wish I'd thought of it. Hell, I wish there had been one near me when I was in college. Then again, I might never have learned to cook if a Trader Joe's had been part of my young life. It might never have occurred to me that a little bit of effort in the kitchen would allow me to do so much better. What motivation would I have had? Some of the stuff they sell is really good, as far as convenience food goes. Yeah, a love of food is part of what got me into cooking, but being a starving musician who wanted to eat a greater variety of foods than I could afford to go out for was an equally big motivating factor. There's so much inexpensive variety at Trader Joe's it's almost scary.
So what's there for me? Not much. I like cheap olive oil, basmati rice, pine nuts, etc, but I can find those things elsewhere. And elsewhere I don't have to wade through mountains of unnecessary packaging, all emblazoned with the Trader Joe's brand name. I'm not going to be tempted by the chicken chipotle wrap sitting next to the plastic container of seven layer dip. Sorry. I'm looking for ingredients from which I'll make my own meals, thank you very much. You can't even buy a bunch of parsley there! What they sell is a few sprigs in a rigid plastic box for the greater part of two dollars. The lion's share of what I bought today was a loaf of bread, some smoked fish, some sliced ham, salad makings and a bag of pasta. Like I said, it's a supermarket for people who don't really cook.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Leftover Maintenance
None of us want to waste food, yet we do. A big culprit when it comes to wastefulness is your fridge, notably leftover dishes or ingredients that get pushed to the back and forgotten about until they're inedible. People simply don't get excited about eating the same thing two days in a row, especially when it's likely to have suffered from time spent in the fridge. So instead they figure they'll get to the leftovers later, and that day never comes.
How did generations of grandmothers who never wasted a scrap of food get around this? They'd transform leftovers from one meal into an entirely different meal the next day. They had a whole repertoire of dishes created for the sole purpose of using up leftover this or that. Some of these were on the humble side, but humble and delicious are not mutually exclusive! Here are a few of my favorite leftover transformations:
Italian Bread Soup
This is something to do with leftover Italian (or French) bread that's gone stale overnight. Cut the bread into cubes and fry in olive oil with a pinch of crushed red pepper. Throw in some chopped garlic and fry for another minute. Cover with chicken broth (or stock), break up a few canned tomatoes into it, and gently simmer for ten minutes. Add a finishing herb (Italian parsley, basil or even chopped fresh rosemary leaves) and serve topped with grated Romano cheese.
Fritatta of Leftover Pasta
Any leftover long pasta will work here, regardless of how it's been sauced. To serve two heat olive oil (or a small amount of butter) in the bottom of a 10" pan. Add just enough leftover pasta to cover the bottom of pan. Grate some cheese (I use Romano) over it, then pour in three beaten eggs. Reduce heat to low, cover and cook for ten minutes (or until eggs have set on top). Serve pasta side up, with a salad.
Fried Rice
Hot oil + whatever veggies you have lying around (garlic, onion, celery, carrot, green peas, bell pepper, whatever) + any leftovers (meat, fish, poultry, sausage, ham, whatever) + cold leftover rice + an egg + soy sauce (or fish sauce) = fried rice. That's the order it goes down in the wok. Keep things moving quickly once the rice hits, and make sure the egg fries a bit on the bottom of the wok before it gets stirred into the rice. Garnish with chopped scallions or cilantro if you have any lying around. Hot sauce works, too.
Cold Shoulder Francais
Cold leftover roast meat can be served thinly sliced with Dijon mustard (or horseradish for beef), cornichons, bread and butter. Just plate it attractively. Add a salad and a glass of wine and forget you're eating leftovers.
Open-faced Sandwiches w/Gravy
Here's an Americana classic for leftover roast meat and gravy. Reheat the sliced meat in gravy, and use it to top a slice of bread. (Any bread will do, but rye works really well). Eat with knife and fork. Both my mother and grandmother used this to stretch extra meals out of a roast. It's superb with turkey or pot roast. If you're a little shy on the gravy, thin it down with a little water and a pinch of salt. If it looks too damn brown and plain garnish with some chopped chives, so it looks classy.
Soup
Leftover bird carcasses and ham bones make excellent soups. Like many, my grandmother made turkey noodle soup from the leftovers of the holiday bird. She added a big can of tomatoes to it, which I've never seen anybody outside my family do. Try it, it's delicious!
Omelettes
Many leftovers can make surprisingly good omelette fillings. I've had luck with garlic mashed potatoes, ratatouille and sauteed veggies. If all you have leftover is a small amount of something ask yourself: Could this make a good omelette filling?
Red Sauce
Many leftovers can get a new lease on life as part of a red sauce for pasta. My wife particularly likes using leftover grilled meat and veggies. Leftover red sauce can be frozen and added to the next one you make. I knew a guy whose red sauce always contained the frozen remains of the last one he'd made. His sauce never tasted the same way twice!
How did generations of grandmothers who never wasted a scrap of food get around this? They'd transform leftovers from one meal into an entirely different meal the next day. They had a whole repertoire of dishes created for the sole purpose of using up leftover this or that. Some of these were on the humble side, but humble and delicious are not mutually exclusive! Here are a few of my favorite leftover transformations:
Italian Bread Soup
This is something to do with leftover Italian (or French) bread that's gone stale overnight. Cut the bread into cubes and fry in olive oil with a pinch of crushed red pepper. Throw in some chopped garlic and fry for another minute. Cover with chicken broth (or stock), break up a few canned tomatoes into it, and gently simmer for ten minutes. Add a finishing herb (Italian parsley, basil or even chopped fresh rosemary leaves) and serve topped with grated Romano cheese.
Fritatta of Leftover Pasta
Any leftover long pasta will work here, regardless of how it's been sauced. To serve two heat olive oil (or a small amount of butter) in the bottom of a 10" pan. Add just enough leftover pasta to cover the bottom of pan. Grate some cheese (I use Romano) over it, then pour in three beaten eggs. Reduce heat to low, cover and cook for ten minutes (or until eggs have set on top). Serve pasta side up, with a salad.
Fried Rice
Hot oil + whatever veggies you have lying around (garlic, onion, celery, carrot, green peas, bell pepper, whatever) + any leftovers (meat, fish, poultry, sausage, ham, whatever) + cold leftover rice + an egg + soy sauce (or fish sauce) = fried rice. That's the order it goes down in the wok. Keep things moving quickly once the rice hits, and make sure the egg fries a bit on the bottom of the wok before it gets stirred into the rice. Garnish with chopped scallions or cilantro if you have any lying around. Hot sauce works, too.
Cold Shoulder Francais
Cold leftover roast meat can be served thinly sliced with Dijon mustard (or horseradish for beef), cornichons, bread and butter. Just plate it attractively. Add a salad and a glass of wine and forget you're eating leftovers.
Open-faced Sandwiches w/Gravy
Here's an Americana classic for leftover roast meat and gravy. Reheat the sliced meat in gravy, and use it to top a slice of bread. (Any bread will do, but rye works really well). Eat with knife and fork. Both my mother and grandmother used this to stretch extra meals out of a roast. It's superb with turkey or pot roast. If you're a little shy on the gravy, thin it down with a little water and a pinch of salt. If it looks too damn brown and plain garnish with some chopped chives, so it looks classy.
Soup
Leftover bird carcasses and ham bones make excellent soups. Like many, my grandmother made turkey noodle soup from the leftovers of the holiday bird. She added a big can of tomatoes to it, which I've never seen anybody outside my family do. Try it, it's delicious!
Omelettes
Many leftovers can make surprisingly good omelette fillings. I've had luck with garlic mashed potatoes, ratatouille and sauteed veggies. If all you have leftover is a small amount of something ask yourself: Could this make a good omelette filling?
Red Sauce
Many leftovers can get a new lease on life as part of a red sauce for pasta. My wife particularly likes using leftover grilled meat and veggies. Leftover red sauce can be frozen and added to the next one you make. I knew a guy whose red sauce always contained the frozen remains of the last one he'd made. His sauce never tasted the same way twice!
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Roasted Beet Salad with Goat Cheese and Toasted Walnuts
Sorry I've been away for so long. Been doing the rock and roll thing: a couple weeks rehearsing in LA, then a week in Tokyo playing shows with Julian Casablancas. It's a pretty top gig: great music, travel and incredibly cool people to work with. (Not to mention how good LA and Tokyo were to a spoiled New Yorker out looking for a bite to eat, even on the cheap). Upon arriving home to the Lower East Side NYC's summer had faded, with the specter of autumn in the night air. I was ready to eat something other than Mexican or Japanese food, of which I'd freely indulged in during my travels - preferably something home cooked and reflective of the changing season. My wife insisted on stepping up to the plate (pardon the pun).
Even though I'd been looking forward to playing around in my own kitchen after weeks on the road, I was too jet lagged to protest leaving the cooking in her capable hands. The smell of the beets roasting while we caught up over a glass of wine made for wonderful anticipation. The play of flavors - roasted beets (sweet), toasted walnuts (mellow), goat cheese (rich and sharp), salad greens in Balsamic vinaigrette (sharp and sweet)- was perfect as the evening cool set in. A couple heirloom tomatoes she'd picked up from my brother's garden even found their way onto the plate. Lucky me, I didn't have to lift a finger.
This salad isn't exactly breaking news in the food world. I remember scoffing at it as "yuppie chick food" back in the 1980's. (What can I say? Back then sushi, arugula and dry wine were considered pretentious. Goat cheese didn't stand a chance). Between the cheese and the toasted walnuts there's just enough substance to stand as a meal on its own, though it also makes an excellent first course. The classic cheese to use here is chèvre, but lower moisture goat cheeses can be substituted. If using a lower moisture cheese use less and slice it very thin (a cheese shaver works well for drier types).
As far as wine goes, this salad is friendly to many: crisp whites with good acidity and light to medium bodied reds work well. If you like whites with more residual sugar than is currently fashionable bust them out. Sparklers are a good call, too. We went with a lighter bodied red (a St Laurent from Germany). It was a great pairing.
This recipe will serve two for a light supper or a weekend lunch.
2 large beets, peeled and cut into just bigger than bite sized cubes
2 oz chèvre (or other goat cheese - see above)
handful of walnuts, roughly chopped
salad greens for two
heirloom tomato, sliced (optional)
1/2 clove garlic, finely chopped
extra virgin olive oil
Balsamic vinegar
salt and pepper, to taste
Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Toss beets in a bowl with a little olive oil (about a Tbs), salt and pepper. Place in baking dish (or tray) and roast. Depending on how tender the beets are to begin with they will cook in 40 min to an hour. (Start checking them with a fork after 40 min). They're done when they've shrunk a bit and are easily picked up by being speared with the fork. Let them cool for a few minutes (they can be served warm, but not hot).
While beets are roasting you have plenty of time to get everything else ready: Toast the walnuts in a dry pan over medium heat, shaking them around every couple minutes so they don't burn. Once they've picked up a little color cut the heat and set aside. Toss the salad greens in a bowl with a drizzle each of oil and vinegar, the chopped garlic and a pinch of salt and pepper. Arrange greens on one side of each serving plate and top with tomato slices (if using). Arrange beets on the other side of the plate, drizzle lightly with vinegar and top with walnuts and small dollops of chèvre. Serve immediately.
Even though I'd been looking forward to playing around in my own kitchen after weeks on the road, I was too jet lagged to protest leaving the cooking in her capable hands. The smell of the beets roasting while we caught up over a glass of wine made for wonderful anticipation. The play of flavors - roasted beets (sweet), toasted walnuts (mellow), goat cheese (rich and sharp), salad greens in Balsamic vinaigrette (sharp and sweet)- was perfect as the evening cool set in. A couple heirloom tomatoes she'd picked up from my brother's garden even found their way onto the plate. Lucky me, I didn't have to lift a finger.
This salad isn't exactly breaking news in the food world. I remember scoffing at it as "yuppie chick food" back in the 1980's. (What can I say? Back then sushi, arugula and dry wine were considered pretentious. Goat cheese didn't stand a chance). Between the cheese and the toasted walnuts there's just enough substance to stand as a meal on its own, though it also makes an excellent first course. The classic cheese to use here is chèvre, but lower moisture goat cheeses can be substituted. If using a lower moisture cheese use less and slice it very thin (a cheese shaver works well for drier types).
As far as wine goes, this salad is friendly to many: crisp whites with good acidity and light to medium bodied reds work well. If you like whites with more residual sugar than is currently fashionable bust them out. Sparklers are a good call, too. We went with a lighter bodied red (a St Laurent from Germany). It was a great pairing.
This recipe will serve two for a light supper or a weekend lunch.
2 large beets, peeled and cut into just bigger than bite sized cubes
2 oz chèvre (or other goat cheese - see above)
handful of walnuts, roughly chopped
salad greens for two
heirloom tomato, sliced (optional)
1/2 clove garlic, finely chopped
extra virgin olive oil
Balsamic vinegar
salt and pepper, to taste
Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Toss beets in a bowl with a little olive oil (about a Tbs), salt and pepper. Place in baking dish (or tray) and roast. Depending on how tender the beets are to begin with they will cook in 40 min to an hour. (Start checking them with a fork after 40 min). They're done when they've shrunk a bit and are easily picked up by being speared with the fork. Let them cool for a few minutes (they can be served warm, but not hot).
While beets are roasting you have plenty of time to get everything else ready: Toast the walnuts in a dry pan over medium heat, shaking them around every couple minutes so they don't burn. Once they've picked up a little color cut the heat and set aside. Toss the salad greens in a bowl with a drizzle each of oil and vinegar, the chopped garlic and a pinch of salt and pepper. Arrange greens on one side of each serving plate and top with tomato slices (if using). Arrange beets on the other side of the plate, drizzle lightly with vinegar and top with walnuts and small dollops of chèvre. Serve immediately.
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