Happy New Year

Here’s to thoughtful, home-prepared savory dishes, warm desserts nestled in pools of chocolate sauce, fresh vegetables and greens and most of all, a bountiful new year.

Merry Christmas

Twas the night before Christmas and all through la casa
Not a creature was stirring; !Caramba! ?Que pasa?
Los ninos were all tucked away in their camas,
Some in vestidos, and some in pajamas,
While Mama worked late in her little cocina,
El Viejo was down at the corner cantina.
The stockings were hanging con mucho cuidado,
In hopes that St. Nicholas would feel obligado,
To bring all the children, both buenos and malos,
A nice batch of dulces and other regalos.
Outside in the yard there arose such a grito
That I jumped to my feet like a frightened cabrito.
I ran to my window and looked out afuera,
And who in the world do you think that it era?
St. Nick in a sleigh and big red sombrero
Came dashing along like a crazy bombero!
And pulling his sleigh, instead of venados
Were eight little burros, approaching volados.
I watched as they came, and this quaint little hombre
Was shouting and whistling and calling by nombre:
"!Ay, Pancho! !Ay, Pepe! !Ay, Cuca! !Ay, Beto!
!Ay, Chato! !Ay, Chopo! !Ay, Maruca y Nieto!
Then standing up tall with his hand on his pecho,
He flew to the top of our very own techo.
With his round little belly like a bowl of jalea,
He struggled to squeeze down our old chimenea.
Then, huffing and puffing, at last in our sala,
With soot smeared all over his read suit de gala,
He filled all the stockings with lovely regalos.
He turned like a flash and was gone like viento,
And I heard him exclaim--and this is verdad--
"Merry Christmas to all! !Feliz Navidad!

Mexican Chocolate Pots

Given the winter solstice you have to consider chocolate pots. Made with Mexican chocolate, these warming tubs of goo bring all things good into sharp focus and banish to the background anything horrible and awful.

This is necessary for New Yorkers right now because we’re once again suffering the consequences of a transit strike. Most everyone takes trains and busses to work here. Rarely would someone in the city use his car to get from home to say, work or from home to the theatre, or to a restaurant. There are a fair number of taxis cruising the streets but to move efficiently in NYC, you must take the subway.

Normally, I travel from Brooklyn each working day into the city by subway, and then walk over to the World Trade Center site where I catch another train (the PATH) under the Hudson River to Jersey City where I work. This gets me from door to door in roughly 50 minutes. Map quest says the distance is a little less than 7 miles.

The first day of the strike I worked from home hoping the two sides would resolve their differences quickly. Unfortunately, the news reports offered no sign of a breakthrough in the negotiations so I needed to make alternative plans. Driving through the city to get to Jersey would have been unthinkable – the traffic on the roads was turning ugly. I didn’t even want to car pool because that would still put me on the road.

I bought a bike – nothing elaborate – just your standard Pee Wee Herman model commuter bicycle. I sold my last bike after I stopped competing in triathlons sometime in the early 90’s. Gawd, was it that long ago? Anyway, once I worked out the routes and restrictions I actually made the trip from door to door this morning in a little under 45 minutes. Granted, the timing of this strike could not be worse. The wind chill yesterday when I left the house was about 15 degrees. The Brooklyn Bridge is packed during the morning and evening commuter hours so that part of the trip requires walking. The rest was a piece of cake – err, or pudding.

Method

3 cups milk
1/3 cup light brown sugar (packed)
2 cinnamon sticks, cracked
9 large egg yolks
1/3 cup granulated sugar
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 pound plus 2 ounces melted Mexican chocolate
Lightly sweetened whipped cream and ground cinnamon, for serving

In a medium saucepan, combine the milk, brown sugar and cinnamon sticks and bring just to a boil. Remove from the heat, then cover the saucepan and let the milk infuse for 20 minutes. Then, in a large bowl, whisk the egg yolks with the granulated sugar and vanilla until pale. Whisk in the melted chocolate until smooth and glossy, the mixture will be quite thick. Remove the cinnamon sticks from the warm milk and discard. Gradually add the milk to the chocolate, whisking constantly, until smooth and creamy. Strain the custard through a fine sieve and refrigerate until well chilled, at least 4 hours or overnight.

Preheat the oven to 300°. Place a kitchen towel in the bottom of a large roasting pan. Arrange ten 4-ounce ramekins or espresso cups in the roasting pan. Stir the chocolate custard until smooth, and then divide it among the ramekins. Pour enough hot water into the roasting pan to reach halfway up the sides of the ramekins.

Cover the roasting pan with foil and bake the custards for 35 to 40 minutes, or until just set around the edges but still slightly jiggly in the centers. Carefully remove the ramekins from the water bath and let cool to room temperature. Refrigerate until chilled. Garnish each pot de crème with a small dollop of whipped cream and a sprinkle of cinnamon.

Christmas Cookies

You’re either a Christmas peanut butter and chocolate person or you’re not. Among the Christmas cookies, tea cakes, dulces and sweet breads I make at this time of year are these easy-to-construct …what…things that will make all your friends and family forgive some of your shortcomings - even if only for a few minutes.

Chocolate Peanut Butter Squares

Combine in a large bowl of an electric mixer ½ cup firmly packed brown sugar, ¾ lb. confectioner’s sugar, 4 tbs. butter (softened) and 16 oz. creamy peanut butter. Beat at low speed to incorporate. Meantime, melt 1 lb. of good quality chocolate with a tablespoon of butter in the microwave until tempered. Set the chocolate aside to cool a little.

Into an un-greased 15” x 9” x 1 ½” sheet pan dump the peanut butter/sugar mixture. Using a rolling pin, distribute the mixture into the pan until it is flat and evenly distributed. There should be about a ½ “ or so between the top of the rolled out mixture and the lip of the pan. Pour the melted chocolate on top of the mixture and spread evenly to cover.

Refrigerate for a little while to barely set the chocolate (It must not get too hard or you will never, ever, ever be able to cut the pan full into squares). Using a sharp knife, cut into 2” squares. Place the pan back in the icebox so they can set completely before carefully levering them out with a tongue depressor or other specially made veterinarian tool.

Rachael's Site

I’ll tout another weblog this morning. Rachael’s Fresh Approach Cooking (http://freshcatering.blogspot.com/) is a very tightly written, professional looking food and cooking site. Rachael has a seemingly endless capacity to come up with well though out recipes, ideas, pictures and more. Last night I used her recipe for gingerbread with cranberry poached pears as the basis for a simpler dessert for E and Stumpy.


Stumps had a blast helping me mix up the cake. The smell of pears poaching in orange zest and cinnamon and the gingerbread baking in the oven filled the house. E's been working so hard lately. I timed dinner so that after beating her way into and out of the subway and walking home through the cold last night she caught a waft of the gingerbread as she came through the door. Who's better than me?


Thanks Rachael.

Baked Stripped Bass

Wild stripped bass (Roccus saxatilis) is an abundant, coastal fish common to our area. “It is a delicate, fine, fat, fast fish, having a bone in his head which contains a saucerfull of marrow sweet and good, pleasant to the pallat and wholesome to the stomach . . .” as published in Woods, New England Prospect in 1634. If I cannot catch a striper myself I can usually find one or two at our local fishmonger who saves them for good customers.

The Method

Into the cavity of a five or six pound cleaned and scaled whole stripped bass stuff a bunch of fresh herbs. Use Thyme, tarragon, fennel or even parsley after sprinkling in a fair amount of kosher salt and fresh ground pepper. Place the fish on a large buttered baking pan. Over the fish pour four or five ounces of melted butter. Bake in a moderate oven until the flesh flakes when you poke a fork into it.

Serve with rice pilaf, baby carrots braised in butter and brown sugar and a fresh mesclun greens salad.

The History

Tony the Barber taught me about stripped bass. As strange as it seems to see these words in writing, I have been going to the same barber for half my life. Twenty-five years ago, after a particularly bad experience at the local barber school (times were not always so flush), I wandered into the barbershop next door. With no appointment and no referral I had to first make my way past the suspicions of the three, scissor-wielding Sicilians. After appropriate introductions and assurances that I was from the neighborhood, one of them agreed to take me.

I count few people as close friends. Tony the barber is one. When he was a young man, Tony emigrated from Italy. Raised in a small fishing village near Mt. Etna, he carries with him a love for the sea and fishing. I have yet to have a haircut when Tony does not tell me about either his latest catch, his plans for a fishing trip, a recipe for fish or a tale about a spectacular battle between him and…a fish.

And as any useless man would attest, one’s relationship with his barber is important. For a time when I was searching for some perceived truth I saw a therapist. His office was close to Tony’s barbershop and some mornings, after therapy, I would go to Tony’s for a haircut. About nine months into the therapy I came to the realization that the source of the truth I was chasing was just as likely to be gleaned from a Sicilian with a barber’s license hanging near the chair than from the guy with an M.D. hanging among the fine art in his office. Besides, I always looked better when I left Tony’s.

Ibarra

We’re experiencing a substantial snow event this morning and I can’t help but think about making hot chocolate. Please don’t confuse hot chocolate with that chemically sweet, powder based instant mildew in those red and white envelopes. Typically made with hot water from an unwashed cistern, the resultant brew is more akin to brake fluid.

I make hot chocolate in batches. I make it for four or five children and adults at a time. My hot chocolate is based on the chocolate drink developed by the Mayans, the Aztecs, and the gods responsible for originally passing down the idea to my Mexican forbearers. Mexican hot chocolate is made with Ibarra chocolate. Ibarra is chunk chocolate mixed with almonds and sugar. The blocks must first be pulverized before blending with hot scalded milk. After steeping for just long enough to soften the chocolate, the whole batch is whirred in a blender until a light froth develops and the aroma of the chocolate and almonds begins to fill the kitchen. The hot chocolate is served in large wide cups with nothing more than maybe a slice of pan dulce.

Lemon Curd

To speak of this substance is to identify with all that is good in the world. Although lemon curd is simply a reduction of fresh lemon juice, zest, eggs, sugar and butter, the resultant lip pouting mass rises to a high holy place among all the lesser items that find their way into ones mouth. Lemon curd is a reason to fall in love, it’s a way to create life, lemon curd, if properly administered, I’m confident would halt the spread of war, end suffering, heal the sick and cure malaise. Eaten directly out of the jar late at night eases one gently to sleep. Discretely slipping a spoon slowly down into the golden depths of the jar when no one else is around, with the lights low and the house quiet might possibly be my favorite indulgence.

I only make small batches of lemon curd so as to avoid the real possibility of foregoing all other food in lieu of this blessed, smooth, sweet and tart fusion. Served over pound cake or ladled aside fresh scones, lemon curd brings to sharp focus all of the other flavors hidden within the accompanied foods. As a filling for tarts, lemon bars and cup cakes, there is no better substitute.

Make crepes; roll a few around a dollop or two of lemon curd and serve on a warmed plate with a sprinkle of powdered sugar and a spoonful of crème fresh. Arrange berries around the perimeter of the plate and you will be a hero to all who eat it.

Grassie de Canard

Truth be told, I roast a lot of ducks just so I can have a ready supply of duck fat on hand. This dense, flavorful fat lends depth and character to anything it touches. I use it to make the best fried potatoes in the greater western hemisphere. Duck fat is a key ingredient in making confit, will explode the flavor of caramelized onions and heighten the taste of most other fried vegetables.

Roasting a duck is just about the same as roasting chicken from a practical standpoint. The differences of course lie in the results. Duck does not taste like chicken. It does not exactly cook like chicken either. Because ducks have so much fat (I suppose from all that swimming and diving) they tend to splatter a bit more. But with the mess also comes the resultant treasure – duck fat. I cook at least two ducks at a time to guarantee enough duck for dinner and enough duck fat for a week of mad monounsaturated fat, throw all caution to the wind, cooking.

And while the little bastards roast away in the oven, I sauté the excess duck fat and skin along with the livers for a cook’s treat. The skin turns to cracklin’s, the livers plump up and take in the rendered fat. Served on a couple of slices of baguette with a glass of Nuit Saint George, this makes an exceptional amuse bouche.

If E is close by, she gets a taste, otherwise … well, you get the picture.