imbb 8: the return of the cherry mary, bonus sexy oysters

olga returns.

the 8th edition of IMBB is on, the theme: lift your spirits high! the idea: use wine or spirits as a central component to your recipe.

thought about it, and the only two recipes i have and like that use spirits as a central (actually, *essential*) component, are grilled sea bugs, and cherry marys. couldn't decide which was cuter sexier, so i tossed a coin, and the latter won. so my IMBB entry is a previous post, the cherry mary.

for those of you bored with olga, here's something else:



oysters on the half shell with salmon roe, chives, tiny diced tomato, and wasabi-vodka ice.

the wasabi-vodka ice is made simply by mixing one cup of water with one ounce of wasabi paste (about 2/3rds of a standard sized tube), and the zest of one lime. freeze, using the monkey method, or put into a resealable bag, freeze, and break up any big crystals intermittently. add 1/4 to 1/2 cup of premium vodka, and spoon onto oysters.

revision: i'm still tinkering with the wasabi ice recipe; i'm thinking better results can be had with 1-1 1/2 cups of soda water (fluffier ice), and 1/4 cup of vodka (less melting).

coffee jelly

this one's for chika

coffee jelly drink, made with coffee gelatin cut into cubey shapes, milk, black coffee, and kahlua. the coffee jelly was simply made with a cup of black coffee (i use iron chef sakai coffee, always) and a packet of unflavoured gelatin dissolved through, then set in the fridge.

chika at she who eats has a similar recipe(with cute ducks even); since she posted first, she gets the first glass.

dinner at nana's cafe.

six of us went to dinner at nana's cafe, in tumon. housed in the former sails restaurant, it is one of the last beachside restaurants and bars on the island. nana's is basically a steak and seafood joint (aka surf + turf, beef + reef), but in a weird quasi-formal/completely casual way that only a restaurant owned by japanese corporate management on a dinky tropical island can achieve. the current chef is takuhiko kishimoto, who used to be at seahorse kuramaya (which was demolished last year), and it looks like the menu and the clientele followed him over.

like the seahorse kuramaya, nana's is actually divided into two restaurants--nana's takes care of the "indoor" menu, which focuses on kishimoto-san's strange but tasty cajun and italian infused blends. (yes, i know--cajun and italian, sometimes in the same dish. mostly it's best to forget about this, and just focus on the flavour.) the beachside barbecue is still known as sails, where diners sit around a teppan-yaki style grill right by the ocean, and partake in a jovial beef and beer fest, surrounded by tiki torches and warm tropical breezes. which means no locals would be caught dead there. sticky, nenes, and like, sand gets in *everything*. i think, however, you can get anything from the "outdoor" menu brought inside.

the restaurant itself is one giant room, with plate glass windows that overlook the outdoor dining area and the beach beyond. the room is filled with local nara wood carvings, and tropical wood furniture, which is softened by bamboo matting and palm weavings. the staff is friendly and brisk, despite being undermanned on a busy weekend night. we shared three starters: vegetable summer rolls made from julienned vegetables and glass noodles in a rice wrapper and served with peanut sauce, poached shrimp in a sauce that was a cross between an aioli and a zabaglione--like a frothy mayonnaise spiked with lemon and balsamico, and a mixed seafood cocktail in a fresh tomato sauce and creme fraiche with pink peppercorns.



the summer rolls were good, if standard; the shrimp jarring at first with the sweet seafood and tart creamy sauce, but it grew on you. the seafood cocktail was a bit strange looking, but very refreshing--the tomato sauce was lively and the creme fraiche quite light.

the soup and salad bar used to only be featured at lunch, but is now a part of the dinner service. it's quite small, but fresh, and has a crazy build-your-own miso soup.



the two main entree salads ordered had grilled shrimp and panko breadcrumb- coated soft shell crabs, respectively.



i'm assuming the former was very good, as it was demolished within minutes. pinch was put off by the appearance of her soft shell crabs--she claimed (correctly) that they looked like deep fried tarantulas. the crabs were rather large and fresh, but the heavy breading detracted from the creamy sweetness within. they were also slightly undercooked in the middle, enhancing its ocean-flavour, which is not necessarily a good thing--sometimes, you don't want to know where a crab has been.

we also ordered two seemingly different items--the grilled salmon, and the fried mixed seafood, but both were smothered in that strange aioli-zabaglione sauce, with a few herbs added in. kishimoto-san is known for his skills in the sauce department, but i think he was a little too in love with this one.


grilled salmon

it's good, but a little goes a long way. also, the menu did not mention it would be on either dish (in fact, i think the mixed seafood plate at lunch is completely different).

the only two things from the old seahorse menu we ordered were the cajun chicken--a roasted spicy chicken breast with a fricasee of onions, eggplant, peppers, and tomatoes, garnished with black olives; and cioppino, a mixed seafood stew in a tomato broth. the chicken was as it always was--a surprisingly well-suited blend of strong cajun spices and strong mediterranean vegetables that do not overwhelm the chicken, which actually tastes like chicken (a rarity these days). as for the cioppino, well, who knows. the table next to got the last two servings, but we didn't get short shrifted by the staff--the very kind floor manager brought us a lovely, massive, t-bone steak (alas, not cooked in duck fat), from the "outdoor" menu--grilled and served simply with grilled onions, eggplant, and a very mild finadene. free of charge.



and a complimentary tiramisu.



despite the glitches, and the sauce-that-would-not-go-away, the overall tastiness of the other items, the completely amenable staff, and the lively company made it a great meal. we'll be back (and we'll all order the cioppino to see what happens next).

nana's cafe
pale san vitores road, behind the plaza
tumon
671.646.7803

tilapia tao si

tilapia in black bean sauce. the tilapia was cut into steaks, fried until golden, then finished in a sauce of made from fermented black beans, garlic, onion, calamansi juice, and water.

1 question about 2 things that only 3 people will comment on

what three bands/singers and three foods don't you like that other people do? we're talking rant v rave, here.

ps--i'm hoping more than 3 people will actually respond to this....

recipe: guacamole.

i'm told it's really good, but i wouldn't know. i'm so allergic to avocados, i can't touch them or i break out in boils. just looking at this photo makes my throat tighten up.

so why do i make it? people ask for it. it's my own personal "fear factor", s'pose. and i love the fact that in french, the word for 'avocado' is the same word for 'lawyer'.



this is based on a recipe from border grill in santa monica, ca. i love it to pieces, but i wish they would stop adding avocados to my food, even when i specifically ask not to have it in. *sigh*. okay, ingredients: 3 ripe avocados, roughly mashed; the juice from two juicy limes; one red onion, finely chopped, one giant bunch of cilantro, washed and roughly chopped, one habañero pepper, finely chopped (with seeds!), salt and pepper to taste.

mix. eat or stare at it, depending on your allergies.

ps--salsa recipe pretty much the same, only instead of avocados, it's a couple pounds of tomatoes, and an addition of two finely chopped garlic cloves.

dang, it's hot.

part three of the dead bread trilogy

maybe i'm the only person in the world who can't finish a whole croissant, maybe i'm not. whatever. say you have a croissant lying about so long you're about to charge it rent, here's what you do: cut it in half width-wise, not lengthwise, so you have two crescents. if it is rancid, throw it out! if it's dry, hollow out the centers carefully; if it's still flooby, push aside the layers so you create a pocket. beat an egg white with a glug of simple syrup, or any flavoured italian soda syrup, or honey, brush on the inside of the pocket and on the crust, sprinkle with sliced almonds and bake at 350ºf for 10 minutes or until crispy. cool on a rack. fill with your favourite ice cream.

trust me on this one.

summer in the city

one of my favourite places to spend summers is new york city. i used to do it a lot, before mortgages and dog feeding schedules got in the way.

i love everything about the city in the summer, even things that bug me in other seasons, or other places. it's sweltering, but sultry: everyone's a little sluggish, so you move a bit slower; there are so many bodies you can feel heat radiating off someone, but if someone quickens her step, you feel the breeze in her wake. clothes stick to your body, so you wear loosely fitting linens or cotton that get drenched and cling in sudden thunderstorms that make the pavement steam and everything a little blacker before they stop--just as suddenly--and like magic, everything's clear and the edge has been taken out of the day. every colour pops against its grey and gritty backdrop, everything you eat tastes a little more--saltier, sweeter, bitter, better. worse. everything you do, you remember in bright, jagged fragments.

i love walking, walking, walking with someone or no one, through the busy, crowded metropolis that gives way to patches or even acres of green. you jostle for space on the train platform, the concert floor, the coffee line, you find yourself alone in a museum hall, a matinee movie theatre, down by the riverbanks. your eyes ache and your feet blister, but you don't notice because your whole body is trying to absorb and remember the assault of sights, smells, and sounds around you. days end suddenly, nights stretch out and despite your fatigue, you fall into a state of dreamlessness and dreaming--the city's still moving and you can hear it outside your bedroom window. you can even feel the shadows the amber streetlights cast around you. it's at this moment you realise you are so anonymous you've become one with the city, your heartbeats are the same. the city really is at its stillest and darkest just before dawn, and it's only then you can finally drift off to sleep.

...

why am i telling you this? oh, i don't know. i was reading gothamist, and just daydreaming, i suppose. oh, and i picked up this faboo recipe for summer vegetable cassoulet from dinky, lovely ivo+lulu's.

i am actually eating it at this moment. yeah, it's 1am. i was busy.

curry donut

it's like a jelly donut, but not!

there is actually some history behind this, it wasn't some weird bit of kitchen god cookery in a panya somewhere in tokyo (actually, maybe it is a little). this bit of strange genius was created by toyoharu nakada at catlea bakery in 1927. who knows what he was thinking when he decided to encase curried fillings (this one is veggie, but i've had chicken, beef, and a scary tuna one) in a deep fried, panko-covered sweet dough.

i'll bet apu sells these at the qwik-e mart.

recipe: pain perdu.

pain perdu with warm guava preserves and mascarpone

part two in the dead bread trilogy

pain perdu, literally "forgotten bread" in french, aka french toast. i like the idea of forgotten bread, the phrase "french toast" makes me think of clinking champagne glasses at new year's. i like to bake pain perdu instead of pan frying it, as it uses less butter, and frankly, i'm totally useless first thing in the morning--it's an effort to turn a knob, never mind flipping things in hot fat.

ingredients: 8 slices of stale bread, 4 eggs, 2 cups milk, pinch of salt. since i usually use bone dry bread (see part 1 of the dbt), this dish must be refrigerated overnight, or left to sit for at least half an hour. because of the varying soaking times, you'll get different results--the bread that is left to soak overnight is softer and slightly custardy, the half hour soaked bread is firm and has a bit of tooth.

if you are going for the overnight method, grease or butter an ovenproof dish, place the bread in the dish (try not to overlap the slices). mix the remaining ingredients, pour on top of the bread, and refrigerate overnight.

the half hour method is similar. place the bread in a shallow dish, and pour the other mixed ingredients on top. soak for 30 minutes (less if the bread is thin, more if it's not). take the bread out of the egg mixture, and place on a greased baking sheet or dish.

for both methods, bake for 40 minutes at 350˚F. you may need to turn the bread over once for the bread that hasn't sat overnight in the fridge.

why have two methods? well, you never know how much time you'll have. also, you may be looking for a particular texture for the dish. when i am making a sweet pain perdu, i like to use the overnight method, and sometimes i'll add orange zest, vanilla, or a few tablespoons of sugar to the egg mixture. for a savoury dish, i will slit the bread in half and stuff it with ham and/or cheese, and when it's soaked for a short period of time, it becomes similar to a monte cristo sandwich, only marginally healthier, as it's not deep fried in butter. i will also toss some chopped vegetables coated in olive oil (zucchini works well) in, to mini-roast along with the stuffed bread.


pain perdu stuffed with ham and brie, served with roasted cherry tomatoes

mariebelle hot chocolate

i received this gorgeous little lunch box of mariebelle hot chocolate for my birthday a couple of months ago. mariebelle is a lovely chocolate shop in soho in new york city, and one of their specialties is this, their aztecan style hot chocolate. it is made with pure belgian cocoa, refined sugar, corn starch (as is tradition with aztecan style), and a variety of spices. it is a dark, rich cocoa drink, thick and full-bodied, earthy, not sweet at all. my particular favourite is the aztec spicy, which contains cayenne pepper for an interesting kick, which can be further enhanced (as suggested by mariebelle herself) with a shot of tequila. some nightcap.

recipe: panzanella.

part one of the dead bread trilogy

i cannot finish a loaf of bread. my freezer is an icy graveyard of half-consumed loaves of wholegrain, pan de mie, pullman, and rye, diminished batards and baguettes that look like toppled gravestones and markers. there is only so much one can do with breadcrumbs, so i have a passel of recipes i file under "dead bread".

one of my favourites is a tuscan bread salad known as panzanella. it is extremely simple to make, but completely dependent on the freshness of your ingredients for it to be successful. perversely, the bread you use for this has to be as stale as possibly without being rancid or moldy--bone dry is best.

this particular recipe is based on my favourite version of panzanella, from the quietly fantastic angeli caffé in los angeles. it is the first version i'd ever tried, and i have not been able to find another that is comparable to it in freshness, simplicity, and flavour.



cut up at least two large ripe, but firm beefsteak-type tomatoes--you will want to use the juiciest and sweetest tomatoes possible(romas aren't juicy enough and cherries are too acidic)--in a rough dice. glug a generous amount of high quality extra virgin olive oil (about 1/2 cup) and a scant 1/4 cup red wine vinegar on top. add a fistful of rinsed, drained capers and leave to marinate. roughly chop 3 cups of stale bread (ciabattas or baguettes work well--anything with a lot of crust), into 1-1 1/2 inch cubes. peel a common slicing cucumber, cut in half and de-seed it by running a spoon through the middle. cut into bite-sized crescents. de-seed a large green bell pepper, cut into strips. mix the bread in with the vegetables in a large bowl, dump the tomatoes and the all the marinade on top. season generously with salt and pepper. the marinade soaks through the bread, just enough to give it chewiness. the bread and the cucumbers foil the acidity of the tomatoes and vinaigrette, and the bell peppers add a nice greeny touch.

name that fruit!: dayap

citrus aurantiifolia (christm. et panz.) swingle (?!), dayap, or native lime. in the philippines that is. sometimes called a mexican lime, west indian lime or key lime. it can be used any way a lime can, or even be a substitute for lemon.

i know the absolute easiest way to juice any citrus fruit is to microwave it for 20-30 seconds (to release the juice), cool it, cut in half, then stick a fork in it and twist, but i love my little lime juicer i picked up in los angeles at the farmer's market, one of my most favourite places in the world. if you ever go, stop by bennett's ice cream stand. not only are all the ice creams, sorbets, and frozen yogurts homemade, they have freshly made lemonade and limeade. one of my secret la tips: order the limeade with carbonated water--it's fresh, not too tart, not too sweet, and an absolute quencher on a hot summer's day. also, it's not on the menu; you'll be tipped as an old school los angeleno, rare to find these days.

beckham's nuts

fish+chips, guamish style

[i should really set y'all straight and let you know that "guamish", "guammy", "guamanese", "guamese" aren't real words. having said that, as you can tell, i'm not above using them as if they are]



parrot fish fillets, dipped in a batter of equal parts of flour (seasoned with sea salt) and some crazy dunkelweiss (dunkelweizen?)?, a dark, malty wheat beer. those carbon looking sticks are deep-fried rota sweet potato wedges--blackish on the outside, but that pearly purple on the inside. this v. excellent sweet potato fries recipe was found on the v. excellent sydney food diary.



bonus onion rings with the leftover batter! (no mars bars, sorry)

ginger-soy glazed salmon with purple mash

glaze for the broiled (grilling or barbecuing would work a treat, though) salmon consisted of hoisin sauce, soy sauce, grated ginger, crushed garlic, and some mirin to thin in out. sweet potato mash was made with the rota sweet potatoes, coconut milk, and a tiny bit of grated ginger and red pepper flakes.

purple sweet potatoes

generally known as the okinawan purple sweet potato--beni imo--but on guam, known as the rota sweet potato, as the nearby island is the main producer of this crop.

i like these better than the yellow or orange sweet potatoes (are the yellow ones yams? i get confused), as they are quite dense and starchy but not dry, and have an almost nutty taste to them. and they are crazy purple.

beer for blood

the cleveland regional transit authority is giving out vouchers for free beer if you donate blood to the local blood banks. somehow, it just seems sort of wrong.


why, in the name of all that is unholy, did you pick a bud light?!"

IMBB 8—Raise Your Spirits High

sunday, september 19, 2004 hosted by there's a chef in my kitchen. the only rule: use wine or spirits as a central component of your recipe. check here for details.

sorry for the lack of flourish (fluorish? no that's something with toothpaste. flourish? no cake. so confused). little cranky and lot sicky suddenly overcoming me.

recipe: turon.

banana lumpia, banana spring rolls, known as turon (tooróhn). you'll find dozens of variations, with all sorts of interesting additives from the traditional strips of langka(láhngkah)--jackfruit--to the radical chef's eclectic addition of cheese.

this is the most basic recipe, as the bananas were exceptional--perfectly ripe, creamy, substantial and sweet. no need for additional sugar or flavouring. you'll need lumpia or spring roll wrappers, saba bananas, a little water, cooking oil. cut the bananas lengthwise in half, place cut-side down somewhere towards the bottom of one wrapper horizontally, fold the vertical ends of the wrapper over the banana half, then the bottom end over it as if it was encased in an open envelope. roll the banana half away from you until completely wrapped, seal the exposed edge with water. heat a generous amount of oil up, deep fry turon until golden.

gack!

kinda cute, until you realise what it is.

beautiful failure

dark chocolate banana cake with white chocolate mascarpone ganache.

i'm not even going to post the recipe, it sucked so hard. i thought it would work, but the added bananas made the cake wet, the unsweet dark chocolate worked with the sweet bananas but not the ganache, which was sweet and creamy, but made me feel fat. maybe the two separately...? blecch. nevermind.

salabat

i'm usually not physically sick, just--as my mom would put it--"sick in the head". but yeah, i've got some bug, itchy, scratchy throat, and some interesting effluvia. it'll pass. in the meantime, i'm sipping salabat(sahlabáht), ginger tea. occasionally spiked with citrus, but mostly as is: thinly sliced peeled ginger root, brown sugar to taste, boiled in water. i like mine super-spicy, so i use a thumb-sized bit of ginger for every cuppa i make.

a tip (possibly the only thing i've ever learned from martha stewart): an easy way to peel ginger is by using the side of a spoon.



no more slicy fingers and bits.

i really was going to swim today, but i'b sick. drats.

old cookbooks never die....

saw this story about a cookbook shop in nyc. yahoo! considered it headline news, right up there with hurricane frances, the tragedy in russia, and the conflict in darfur. bless.

what's *your* favourite cookbook? do you collect old ones? is there one you would fight tooth-and-nail (or by wwe smackdown, for that matter) to own or keep?

cherry marys

[soundtrack can be found here--click "samples" then "girl wants (to say goodbye) to rock 'n' roll".]

mighty monkeys! it's labour day weekend already, which means the summer season is nearly kaput for most people who live where there are actual seasons, and nearly beginning for our antipodean friends, so perhaps i should roll out some of those recipes i've been meaning to get to.

a while back, anthony at spiceblog was envisioning a rock (music) themed meal, which involved a lot of musings, dischordant rants, and i think even a few dishes. i promised a suitable starter, so i lifted one from a peculiar cookbook, "loving and cooking with reckless abandon" by kevin gould. the hardback edition looks like it was conceived by a hopped up junior high school yearbook editor pre-apple IIe days (namely: me, then), the recipes odd but plausible (butter sesame carrots with fizzy water, f'r'instance), and the ramblings...well, rambling (this post would do it proud).

so what's the recipe, already? you impatiently ask. why, it's the cherry mary. originally christened by kevvy kev something incredibly naff--"tomatoes with a love injection"--it has been universally reborn as what it really is: a baby bloody mary injected into a cherry tomato. i also like the name because it reminds me of my favourite character, mary cherry, from the misnomered, quickly cancelled teen bitchfest "popular" (which comes out on dvd in september, yay).

I DIGRESS.

here, quickly, the recipe, slightly tweaked:

12 cherry tomatoes, brought to room temperature
a good pinch of salt
juice from one small lime
1 tbsp worcestershire sauce
1 tsp red or green tabasco sauce
a dash of celery salt
1 crushed garlic clove
200ml good quality vodka

using an empty syringe, enter each tomato through the skin near its green head, and remove as much juice as you are able. dissolve the salt in the lime juice, add the rest of the ingredients, except the vodka. zap in the microwave for a minute, cool. strain in cheesecloth, muslin, or even a paper towel. add vodka. fill the syringe with the filtered liquid and tap it a couple of time to remove any air bubbles and to appear professional.



inject a small amount into each tomato--take care, inject too much and the skin will split.



chill for an hour or so. serve with accompanying napkins as they can spurt alarmingly.

why, you ask, does this fit the rock and roll theme? well, it doesn't really, but it does spawn some rather rude remarks on my part and there *is* something about hypodermic needles....oh, chef kev says you can pick up a 10ml needle over the counter at your local pharmacy. this probably works everywhere except the u.s.; i work at my local d.e.a.-regulated pharmacy, and i'm telling you that even if you're nice to me, unless you have a prescription, i'm not giving you one. update: whoops. apparently you can get syringes in all but 7 states and territories. you may get hassled a bit, but you'll never know if it's because of regulations or because the pharmacist thinks you're a bit nutty for wanting to inject tomaters.

kampai!

cinnamon brioche rolls

some time ago, chika at she who eats blogged about some granola from la brea bakery, which led to a short discussion about the cinnamon rolls from said bakery. veronica, the chef and owner of cup and saucer (see previous posts of purchased pretty pastries), told me it was basically a brioche dough recipe, so i set about not trying to recreate it (impossibility), but to make a semi-approximation of it that would satisfy my craving, without having to fly to los angeles.

i've been attempting brioche for awhile, with varying results. the recipe that intrigues me the most is from gordon ramsay's "just desserts", but i have yet to recreate it successfully. for this particular item, i used a recipe from either ben o'donoghue or curtis stone, but it isn't in their cookbook, dagnabbit. it's somewhere in the stacks, i'll find it one day. anyway, i used one of the aussie boys' recipe for brioche, rolled it out, sprinkled brown sugar and vietnamese cinnamon over it, did all you do to make cinnamon rolls, and wa-hey, here you go.

the la brea bakery cinnamon roll is larger, with much thinner layers (i'm sure the actual recipe is in nancy silverton's pastry book), but the flavour was close, and the texture quite pleasing. less flaky due to my lack of finesse in the layering department, but tender and buttery, but not so much to overpower the spices.

wine recommendations, please!

i'm steeping fruit in vino. i am doing mixed berries in red, yellow peaches in red, and white peaches in white. i don't have a clue about reds, but i'm leaning towards a pinot grigio or even a moscato d'asti for the white peaches.

could someone suggest wines to use as steeping liquids for each of these?

mushrooms on toast

sadly, pathetically, there is a celebrity chef recipe attached to this. i know, how much more self-explanatory can this recipe possibly be? i've been reading nigel slater's autobiography, "toast" (see sidebar), and well, i've been craving it. so here is relatively complicated recipe for a v. simple dish, courtesy of bill granger's "bill's food":


1 1/2 oz. unsalted butter
1 tbsp. olive oil, plus extra, for brushing
2 garlic cloves, finely chopped
1 lb. mixed mushrooms
sea salt
freshly ground black pepper
1 tsp. balsamic vinegar
2 tbsp. chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
1 tsp. chopped fresh tarragon
1 tsp. grated lemon zest
4 slices sourdough bread
1 garlic clove, extra, for rubbing on bread
1 cup ricotta cheese

put half the butter with the oil and chopped garlic in the saucepan over a medium to high heat. add the mushrooms, 1/4 cup water and salt and pepper, to taste. cover and cook, stirring occasionally, for about 15 minutes, or until the mushrooms are cooked and the liquid is syrupy. stir in the balsamic vinegar, parsley, tarragon and lemon zest. taste for seasoning and adjust if necessary. whisk the remaining cold butter through to thicken the mushroom sauce.

brush the bread on both sides with the extra virgin olive oil. grill until golden on both sides, then rub both sides with a cut garlic clove and place on serving plates. top with ricotta and then mushrooms and serve immediately. serves 4.

of course, adjust recipe to whatever mushrooms, herbs, bread or even cheese is handy. i used a multigrain sourdough malingering in the freezer, and omitted the cheese altogether. mmm. fungalicious!

in my shopping basket: izze.

izze, a mix of fruit juice and soda water. it either tastes like dried clementines or old tinned orange juice, depending on your cynicism. i just like the label.