Something Blue

My bookclub meets once a month on approximately the last Tuesday.  We take turns as the hostess, and the somewhat unspoken rule is that if you pick the book, you get to hostess.  It all works out fairly equitably, and for me the biggest plus of the system is that I read a lot of stuff I'd never pick otherwise.  There are certain themes that have emerged over the years:  one woman seems to always pick books about cooking or food (hence, 'The Sharper the Knife, the Less You Cry'; another, adventure tales ('Kon-Tiki'); yet another, the south ('Where Peachtree Meets Sweet Auburn').  I like the system and the resulting balance between fiction and non, fluff and serious.

Aside from the books and the great company, the next best thing about bookclub is the food.  Most of us like to cook, and it seems that a lot of us like to think of culinary themes that match the book we just read.  For 'Where Peachtree Meets Sweet Auburn' we had southern food.  For 'Kon-Tiki' there was a pupu platter and drinks with umbrellas. Even when the food has no theme, the meals are usually outstanding.  It was a bookclub meal that launched me into cooking Indian food; yet another sparked several rounds of fried goat cheese drizzled with honey. 

I picked our February 2010 read, Blue Jesus by Tom Edwards.  I first heard about this book from the woman who waxes my eyebrows; she had read this book for her bookclub and had even been able to have the author come to discuss the book with her group.  Not only was I taken with my eyebrow waxer's enthusiasm for the story, I was also intrigued by the fact that the story is based on a real group of people with a genetic disorder that turns their skin blue.  Everyone wholeheartedly enjoyed the book, and I recommend it to anyone looking for a good story about growing up, prejudice, and friendship.

Being the dork that I am, I decided that the meal should have a theme, and 'Blue' emerged at the top of the list.  [I can only guess where my ability to think of such inane themes come from....I remember childhood Superbowl parties where the food all started with the letter 'P' for 'Patriots' or ended in the price $.49 for the 49ers.] Thankfully the ladies humored me and we had blue corn chips with a black-bean hummus (looks blue), (blue) crab dip, chicken cordon bleu, salad with blue cheese, and blueberry pie. And the wine had a blue label.  As usual:  a delicious meal, great company, and lively conversations about celebrity gossip (and the book).  The crab dip was especially a hit.  I cobbled together the recipes with bits and pieces from several sources, the end product is below.

Crab Dip

1 can crabmeat 

1 8 oz package cream cheese 

1 cup cheddar or Monterey jack cheese, shredded 

2 Tbsp mayonnaise 

1 clove garlic, crushed 

1/2-1 Tbsp Worcestershire sauce 

1/2-1 Tbsp Sriracha or other hot chili sauce 

1/2-1 Tbsp Dijon mustard

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.  Mix all ingredients together in ovenproof casserole dish.  Adjust Sriracha, Worcestershire sauce, and mustard to taste.  Bake for 30 minutes and serve hot, accompanied by crackers or vegetables.

Coq au Vin

I finally caved yesterday and purchased my own copy of “Mastering the Art of French Cooking” by Julia Child.  One might wonder why I consider this purchase to be caving in--Julia Child is one of the most preeminent chefs and her cookbooks are full of butter-laden recipes, what’s wrong with that?  Yet somehow I hate to feel that I’m jumping on the bandwagon, and given the recent Julia Child frenzy after the movie “Julie and Julia”, that’s exactly how I feel (I thoroughly enjoyed the movie, no critique here, its popularity is well-deserved).  But here I am, reluctantly, on the bandwagon, and thoroughly enjoying it.

Yesterday’s purchase was largely prompted by a sudden desire to make Coq au Vin.  I have no idea where this inclination came from.  There are no Coq au Vin recipes in my folder.  Coq au Vin is not my perennial childhood favorite.  I haven’t read any other food blogs describing this recipe in the recent past.  I haven’t seen this dish on a menu recently.  Honestly, the idea just appeared, and as I am never one to argue with inspiration, I laced up my walking shoes and hightailed it to the bookstore to get the one cookbook that I knew I just had to have if I was to execute this recipe correctly.

At some point in the past I did have a battered paperback copy of the same cookbook but it didn’t survive one of my many moves.  Having only cooked one or two Julia Child recipes in the past, I had little recollection of how they are structured and written (but I could never forget how much butter they call for).  Thus, I was pleasantly surprised to rediscover how well-organized the recipes are, how neatly each step is sequenced, and that essential pots and pans and other utensils are included in the sidebar with the list of ingredients at each step.  Is it too dramatic to say that I fell a little bit in love?

The Coq au Vin turned out fabulously.  Truly, there is nothing quite like chicken cooked in red wine and smothered in a rich, buttery sauce, accompanied by wine-braised pearl onions and sautéed mushrooms.  The combination is tantalizingly delicious.  In an attempt to be vaguely health conscious, I omitted the bacon portion of the recipe and reduced the butter and olive oil a bit, and while I am sure that the full-fat version is even tastier, I was not left wanting.

There were a few head scratching moments.  For example, the onion recipe specifies that you should peel the onions, then sauté them in a skillet, being careful not to break their skins.  In my world, peeling onions means discarding the skins, which can only happen as a result of breaking the skin (usually by removing the ends first).   A bit confused, I compromised by cutting the ends off and removing the skins from half of the onions (my definition of peeling), and leaving the ends on and only removing any skin that voluntarily came off of the other half of the onions (Julia’s definition of peeling, maybe?).  Not sure what was the intended method but they all tasted identically wonderful.

There was also an adrenaline pumping, oh-my-goodness-this-is-frightening moment; namely, when a small amount of cognac (or in my case, whiskey as liquor stores are closed on Sundays in Georgia and whiskey was what we had on hand) was added to the chicken and set on fire.  Obviously, I knew that a lit match + alcohol=big flames, but I was still unprepared for the resultant whoosh of flame.  A quick check confirmed that I did not burn any hair and all of my eyelashes appear intact.  Be careful with this step, dear readers.

Finally, in the words of my taster:  “Damn.”  I guess it was good.

Coq au Vin

Adapted from Mastering the Art of French Cooking by Julia Child

Serves 4

8 pieces chicken (I like legs and thighs)

1 Tbsp butter

1/2 tsp salt

1/8 tsp pepper

1/4 cup cognac (whiskey works)

3 cups red wine

1-2 cups chicken stock

1/2 Tbsp tomato paste

2 cloves garlic, mashed

1 bay leaf

1/4 tsp thyme

3 Tbsp flour

2 Tbsp butter, softened

There is a bacon step here in the original recipe; I omitted it.

While preparing chicken, also prepare mushrooms and onions; recipes follow.

Season chicken with salt and pepper.  Melt 1 Tbsp in heavy, fireproof casserole over medium heat.  Brown chicken on all sides.  Pour in the cognac.  Carefully, ignite cognac with a lighted match, averting your face as there will be flames.  Shake casserole back and forth until flames subside.

Pour wine into the casserole and just enough chicken stock to cover the chicken.  Add tomato paste, garlic, herbs and stir.  Bring to a simmer, then reduce heat and simmer slowly for 25-30 minutes or until chicken is tender and juices run clear when pricked with a fork.  Remove chicken to a serving platter.

Simmer chicken cooking liquid for 1-2 minutes, skimming off excess fat.  Raise heat and boil rapidly,  reducing liquid to around 2 cups.  Correct seasoning.  Discard bay leaf.

Blend flour and butter together into a smooth paste (I used my hands to do this).  Beat the paste into the hot chicken cooking liquid with a wire whisk.  Bring to a simmer, stirring, for a minute or two.  The sauce should be thick enough to coat a spoon lightly.

Place mushrooms and onions around chicken on the serving platter, baste with sauce, and serve.

Brown-braised Onions


18-24 peeled white pearl onions
1 Tbsp butter
1 Tbsp olive oil
1/2 cup red wine
sprigs parsley
1 bay leaf


Heat butter and oil in heavy skillet until bubbling.  Add onions and saute over medium heat for around 10 minutes and browned as evenly as possible.  Pour in the liquid, add the parsley and bay leaf, and season with salt and pepper.  Bake in a 350 degree oven for 50 minutes.  Onions should be browned and tender, but will have retained their shape, and the liquid will have evaporated.  Discard herbs before serving


Sauteed Mushrooms

1 Tbsp butter
1 Tbsp olive oil
1/2 lb mushrooms


Wash and dry mushrooms.  Slice or quarter as desired.


Heat butter and olive oil in heavy skillet over high heat.  When butter foam begins to subside, add the mushrooms.  Stir for 4-5 minutes.  The mushrooms will initially absorb the fat, at 2-3 minutes the fat will reappear on their surface and the mushrooms will brown.  Once lightly browned, remove from heat.  Mushrooms can be prepared in advance and reheated.

Dining in the ATL: Chef Liu

One of the fringe benefits of my job is the proximity of the office to some of Atlanta’s best ethnic restaurants.  Within minutes, I can lunch at any one of many fantastic little restaurants along Buford Highway [Buford Highway is ‘the main artery of Atlanta, Georgia's thriving, multi-ethnic community’, essentially one strip mall after another of interesting little restaurants and ethnic grocers; while to the naive eye Buford Highway might appear a fairly grungy, run down strip, to the indoctrinated it is nothing short of the most interesting food and culture in the city].  Slowly but surely, I’m working my way through the restaurants along Buford Highway, although it seems that new ones open constantly and the list is continually growing; there’s a lot of work yet to be done. 

 

Yesterday I dined at Chef Liu, supposedly one of the more authentic Chinese restaurants in the area.  I’d first heard of this place from two of my Chinese-American friends.  One of my friends had told me that her parents always wanted to go to Chef Liu when they visit as they serve some of the most authentic, ‘real’ Chinese food around.  The other friend told me about these ‘soup buns’; literally, buns with a brothy liquid inside.  I was intrigued.

I ate at Chef Liu for the first time about a year ago when the restaurant was located in a little shack in the middle of a shopping center parking lot; subsequently, they have moved to an actual restaurant in the same shopping center.  Naturally, I liked the slightly divey feeling of the parking lot shack, but cannot argue that the actual restaurant is an improvement.  The first time I went to Chef Liu I really liked the food but didn't love it enough that I'd crave it in the future.  That might have changed with this more recent visit.  I think this is largely because my first visit was with someone who is vegetarian, and although there are some solid vegetarian choices, my more recent experience suggests that the vegetarian choices are not the highlights of the menu.  On this more recent trip we ordered ShangHai Juicy Steamed Pork Buns (P1), Juicy Steamed Crab Meat Buns (P2), Vegetable Buns (P6), Leek Pies (P7), and Cha Chiang Mein (P24).  

The first two choices, the steamed buns, were what my friend had told me about.  I really, really, really liked them.  Similar to dumplings I'd had in the past, what really sets these buns apart is that in addition to the meat filling they are also filled with a little bit of warm broth/soupy goodness.  I wish I had the words to describe the experience when you bite into one, it's unlike anything I'd had before, in the most delicious, flavor-mingling, texture-enriched way I can imagine.  While other reviews I'd read of Chef Liu suggested that many of the buns did not retain their liquid filling, I only had this experience with one of them, and even without the liquid they still tasted like a delicious dumpling. The Leek Pies were also really good.  They are some sort of pastry on the outside, stuffed with a delicious mix of what I think are glass noodles and leeks.  Note to the vegetarians out there--the leek pies are made with little tiny shrimp.  

Part of what I like about Chef Liu is that the food is not the typical Chinese food that Americans are used to.  There is no General Tso's chicken or chop suey anywhere on the menu.  While I'm sure this is disconcerting to those who like the predictability of American-Chinese, I for one like the opportunity to explore dishes that I can't find elsewhere and to challenge my taste buds with a new experience.  I also found that the food at Chef Liu's was less greasy than is much American-Chinese food, definitely a good thing.  

So, next time you are up on Buford Highway and want to go to lunch, let me know, I'll be ready to go back to Chef Liu.

The Other Red Meat

There's nothing like a stomach bug to put a damper on food blogging.  And eating, too.  Especially when one of the meals that should have been lovingly prepared and eaten was a Valentine's meal for Mw.  Luckily we didn't have anything fancy planned or purchased that couldn't wait, but still, ginger ale and Saltines hardly makes for a special meal, although perhaps memorable in a way one would prefer not to remember.

A few days before Valentine's Day, in a happier state of gastrointestinal health, I made one of our favorite burger recipes.  This recipe for Curried Lamb Burgers is actually a staple of my summer menus, when fresh herbs abound and all I want to do is cook everything on the grill.  But, it also works well in the winter, especially when Atlanta gets a whopping 2" of snow and everyone is homebound.  (Or so consumed with panic over 2" of snow that they choose to stock up on bread and milk and stay at home until spring.)

In preparation for writing this post I decided to learn a little bit about lamb meat (is that redundant?).  In part, because Mw thought the title of my post was weird and I wanted to ensure that lamb is, in fact, red meat (it is), and in part because I think lamb is so delicious that I just can't understand why we don't eat lamb more often.  Did you know that in Bulgaria they eat nearly 20 times as much lamb as we do per capita?  I was also feeling a bit guilty that my best friend grew up on a sheep farm and I knew next to nothing about lamb. 

So here are three lamb facts for you (clink on the link above to learn even more):  

-Lamb has zero carbs (not surprising, as it is a protein source).

-Compared with other meats, lamb has very little fat in the meat.

-Lamb is a rich source of conjugated linoleic acid, some sort of potent antioxidant.  

Getting back to the meal at hand, these burgers are fabulous.  I will admit that the first time I made them I was a bit skeptical about the idea of curry in a burger served with raita, but these are amazing.  The full recipe from Bon Appetit also features grilled vegetables, but the version I adapted below omits this portion of the recipe for simplicity; I highly recommend trying the burgers with the zucchini and poblanos.  Although the recipe does not have any breadcrumbs or eggs or anything else to bind the burgers together, I've never found this to be a problem, the burgers stay together perfectly.  The meat remains moist and the curry flavor is strong enough to be noticeable but faint enough not to be cloying.  Plus, the unique flavor of lamb is just amazing.  Can I say enough good about these burgers?  I'm almost ready to start eating again just thinking about them!

Curried Lamb Burgers with Mint Raita 

Adapted from Bon Appetit 

Serves 4

Raita:

1 cup plain yogurt 

3 tablespoons chopped fresh mint (I will admit to leaving this out last time)

2 tablespoons chopped fresh cilantro

1/4 cup grated or finely chopped cucumber

salt to taste

pepper to taste

Mix yogurt, mint, cilantro, and cucumber in small bowl. Season to taste with salt and pepper.  Cover and chill until cold, 30 minutes or more.  


Burgers:
2 Tbsp olive oil
1 medium yellow onion, chopped
2 Tbsp minced peeled fresh ginger
1 tsp salt
2 tsp curry powder (Madras is recommended, not sure if that is what I have used in the past)
1 lb ground lamb
2 Tbsp chopped fresh cilantro
1 tsp cracked black pepper
4 small naans, pita breads, or hamburger buns
1 large tomato, sliced

Heat olive oil in large skillet over medium heat. Add onion, ginger, salt.  Saute until onion is tender and beginning to brown, 10-12 minutes.  Add curry powder, still 30 seconds.  Remove from heat and cool to room temperature, about 15 minutes.


In large bowl, mix lamb, onion mixture, cilantro, and pepper.  Mix gently and shape into 4 patties.


If using the stovetop:  Heat large heavy skillet on medium-high heat.  Cook burgers in skillet to desired doneness, about 6 minutes per side for medium-well, 4 for medium-rare.  I have not found that you need to add much if any oil to the skillet if you are using cast iron and it is well seasoned; the fat in the meat is sufficient.  If you are using another kind of skillet, you may need to lightly oil the skillet first.


If using the grill:  Heat grill on medium-high. Cook burgers on grill to desired doneness, about 6 minutes per side for medium-well, 4 for medium-rare.

Serve burgers on bread/buns, topped with raita and tomato slices and any other desired accompaniments.

Pancakes

I realized as I made pancakes on this snowy morning the real reason that I think making pizza dough is so easy.  My father.  Growing up, my mother did most of the cooking (she is a great cook and I am sure many of her recipes will be featured prominently on future editions of Hannah Eats), but there were three things that were exclusively my dad's domain: pancakes, pizza, and chocolate chip cookies.  If you count frozen ravioli, four things, but I am leaving that off of the list.  As with everything in our household, all of these things were made from scratch.  No mixes, boxes, just-add-water concoctions.

I have fond memories of weekend mornings by the woodstove with a plate of my dad's pancakes.  I also have a few less fond memories, like the time he made banana pancakes (bleck), and the time he put celery on the pizza.  And carrots.  And of course there was the time he accidentally dropped a whole egg, shell and all, into the mixer (I can't remember if he picked out the pieces of shell or started over), prompting him, at least for the next batch but probably not for long after, to heed my mother's advice to break eggs into a separate bowl first.  My father liked to make recipes his way, often sans a few ingredients or with a few extra ones as a reasonable substitute.

What I learned from watching my father cook and tasting his creations is that every recipe has a bit of wiggle room.  So you forget the bread crumbs in the buffalo meatloaf (I neglected to tell you this in my recent post, dear reader, but it's true, I did).  It still turns out just fine.  So you ignore the order that ingredients should be added to the pancake batter and don't sift the flour.  They are still delicious.  This was a valuable lesson--make do, improvise.  You'll probably get pretty close.

What I also learned from watching my father cook and tasting his creations is that recipes have specific lists of ingredients and instructions for a reason.  And, if you consistently follow these lists of ingredients and instructions, your product will be consistent.  And palatable.  The wrong time and temperature will leave your chocolate chip cookies with blackened, inedible bottoms.  Baking powder/soda are usually in recipes for a reason.  I could go on.

Learning the balance between toeing the line and improvisation is the key to being a good cook.  Sometimes leaving out a seemingly key ingredient actually improves the recipe, often it doesn't.  But no matter how it turns out, one is left with funny stories and fond memories of banana pancakes, burnt cookies, and pizza with celery and carrots. 

Pancakes

Adapted from Betty Crocker Cookbook

Makes 10-12 pancakes

1 1/4 cups buttermilk

1 egg

2 Tbsp shortening (vegetable oil or melted butter)

1/2 tsp baking soda

1 tsp baking powder

1 tsp sugar

1/4 tsp salt

1 1/2 cups flour

Whisk together buttermilk, egg, and shortening.  In separate bowl, combine and sift baking soda, baking powder, sugar, salt, and flour.  Add to liquid ingredients and mix until smooth and no lumps remain.

Heat griddle or skillet over medium-low heat.  Test to see that griddle is at correct temperature by adding a drop of water.  If the water 'scatters' and sizzles, it is ready.  Pour batter onto griddle, approximately 1/4 cup for each pancake.  When little bubbles begin to appear in surface of pancake, flip to other side. Cook until browned.

Dining in the ATL: Livingston

It’s hard to argue with a $16 fixed menu.  Especially when the entrée choices are filet or lobster.  It almost seems too good to be true, but that’s exactly what you get on Livingston’s ‘Millionaire Monday’ menu.  Can I go every week?  Certainly a great way to take the edge off of Mondays.

My friend L is probably more of a foodie than I am, and definitely way better at finding good deals than I am.  Last time we met for dinner we had lobster at the Atlanta Fish Company, this time it was Millionaire Monday, and I think all-you-can-eat crab Wednesday is the next dining deal on the list.  As L aptly noted on Monday, the upside of the recession is all the good deals.

All three of us at dinner on Monday ordered the filet.  Medium, Medium, Rare.  I once accidentally ordered a steak raw, courtesy of my limited French vocabulary, and corrected by my more linguistically enabled sister, but I stick with rare these days.  Ground beef, on the other hand, Well.  No E. coli  for me.  Although my meat at Livingston was delivered with the proclamation of 'Medium-Rare' (horrors, so much cooking), I assumed the chef knew what was best for me and thoroughly enjoyed every bite of my steak.  It was excellent.  The steak was accompanied by some sort of golden couscous, also delicious.  I think all three of us ate every bite.  


We ordered three different desserts to share.  Good, but I was slightly less enthusiastic about the desserts (not part of the fixed menu, it was only two courses).  While all three were good, none of them really blew me away.  [One of the three desserts came topped with caramel popcorn that was spectacular; the desserts were by no means bad, they just seemed a bit 'busy'.]  I won't get into the specifics of what we ordered; because the menu changes constantly to reflect locally available, seasonal ingredients, the dessert menu currently on the website is totally different than it was on Monday.  I do sort of regret not ordering the parsnip beignets, an intriguing concept that I wasn't quite sure about but should have tried.


I'm looking forward both to my next trip to Livingston and to my next dinner with L and O.  Since I"ll be in Maine, the home of lobster, next month, I won't be ordering lobster anytime soon in the ATL, but would definitely return for the steak. 

Predictable Pizza

The conversation over homemade pizza went something like this:

Mw:  Tasty.  Really tasty.

H:  Yes.  And you know, making pizza dough from scratch really isn’t hard at all.

Mw:  You are very predictable.

H:  Me?  Predictable?  What makes you say that?

Mw:  Because every time you make pizza dough you say the exact same thing.

H:  But it’s true, pizzza dough is really easy to make.

Mw:  Predictable.

Perhaps I am predictable when it comes to some things.  And with good reason--making pizza dough is incredibly easy, and the resulting pizza is both tastier and healthier than anything you can get at the store or from a restaurant.  I don’t even think that it takes much longer to make pizza than to order it; last time we ordered a pizza the wait was over an hour, only a few minutes more (and most of that time can be spent doing other things) and you can make your own.

My recipe for pizza dough comes from a cooking memoir/cookbook, ‘The Sharper Your Knife, the Less You Cry’ that we read in bookclub two years ago.  [For our meeting to discuss this book, everyone in the bookclub made a recipe from the book and brought it for dinner].  At first I had buyer’s remorse for my purchase of the hardcover version as the story, while somewhat entertaining, is largely vapid and was way too sappy for whatever mood I was in that day. But then I started in on the recipes, and now heartily recommend this book to everyone (added bonus: if you like sappy, this is the perfect read).  Several of the recipes in this book frequently make it into my rotation, and although many of them are French-style cuisine and hence inspire fears that they will be long and convoluted, I generally find the recipes easy to follow and manageable, albeit sometimes time-consuming.

This pizza dough recipe is quite simple and the main investment of time is the hour needed for the dough to rise.  For many people, this hour is probably too much of an investment on a weeknight, but definitely a perfect weekend treat.  For me, one of the advantages of having a boyfriend who works until 8 pm is that I have the luxury of time after work and am not confined to 30 minute meals.  All this recipe requires some yeast, some water, some flour, some kneading, an hour of downtime, and there it is, pizza dough! 

The original recipe calls for grilling the crust.  I've done it this way, and it's delicious, and if you have a grill I recommend this method.  I've also added instructions for the conventional oven in case you don't have a grill or your grill is covered in five feet of snow.  

Pizza Dough

Adapted from ‘The Sharper Your Knife, the Less You Cry’ by Kathleen Finn

Makes two dinner plate sized pizzas.

1 package yeast

1 cup warm water (around 100 degrees F)

2 cups flour

1 Tbsp olive oil

1 tsp sugar

½ tsp salt

Dried or fresh herbs such as parsley, rosemary, thyme (optional but recommended for a delicious crust)

Pizza toppings of choice

Tomato sauce of choice 

Mix yeast into warm water.  Let sit for 15 minutes.

Mix flour, olive oil, sugar, salt, and herbs (if you are using them).  Make a well in the cneter of the flour mixture.  Add yeast, and blend; form into a ball.  Turn dough onto a floured surface.  Knead for a few minutes until dough is elastic and smooth (add more water if too dry, more flour if too wet).   Place ball of dough into an olied bowl and cover with a plate/plastic wrap/dishtowel.  Let sit for 1 hour; dough will approximatley double in size.

If you are using the grill:  Preheat grill on high.  If you are using the oven:  Preheat oven to 425 degrees.

Turn dough out onto floured surface and roll into a dinner plate sized circle.  Alternately, you can usually work dough into this shpae without much rolling.

If grilling:  Grill dough about 2-3 minutes on each side.  Cover with toppings and return to grill until crispy and cheese is melted or to desired doneness.  Alternately, can finish under the broiler.

 
If using the oven:  Place dough on an oiled baking sheet and cook 10-12 minutes, until cooked through but not browned. Remove from oven, cover with toppings, and bake an additioanl 10-12 minutes until crispy and cheese is melted or to desired doneness.

Where the Buffalo Roam

I've never been a fan of cold weather.  Growing up, it was all I could do to wait at the top of the driveway every morning for the school bus.  Cold feet, frozen hair (I've never been very good about the blow dryer)... when it came time for college, I went south.  I've tried several times since college to live in cold climates, and survived, but I am glad to be back in the warmth of the South.  Except that it turns out that winter in the south is not really very warm.  In fact, I like winter here even less, if that's possible.  Although everyone calls Atlanta, 'Hotlanta', as a tribute to its hot, sticky summers, I'll take an Atlanta summer anytime over what passes for winter here.  It's cold, damp, and recently, won't stop raining.  

In an effort to thwart the cold, wet weather, I've been cooking.  Winter is the time for comfort food, and for someone who refuses to turn the heat much above the low 60s, using the oven is also a convenient way to heat the house a bit.  As evidenced by my last few posts, comfort food for me takes many forms, but high on the list of favorites is meatloaf.  Specifically, buffalo meatloaf.

I first made this particular meatloaf over two years ago for my sister and a friend.  Since then it has become a standby for this sort of nasty weather.  It's the perfect meal for the winter, and the recipe is designed to give you a complete meal with potatoes and spinach on the side (I didn't copy the spinach portion of the recipe below but click on the link to go to it).  Although this recipe can also be made with beef, it really is better with buffalo. Buffalo is leaner than beef and has a both meatier and sweeter taste to it that is nicely complemented by the mushrooms and onions in the loaf.  And the roasted potatoes melt in your mouth after cooking for over an hour bathing in the the meatloaf's juices.  As my official taster said, this meatloaf is 'Awesome'.

Buffalo Meatloaf with Roasted Potatoes

Adapted from Epicurious/Bon Appetit

 

1 pound baby Yukon or other small potatoes

1 pound buffalo meat

1 1/2 cups crimini/baby bella mushrooms, chopped

1 medium red onion, chopped

1 tsp sage (or 1 tbsp fresh sage, chopped)

3/4 cup tomato sauce, divided (I use from a jar)

1 large egg

1/2 cup panko or breadcrumbs

1 tsp red pepper flakes

olive oil

salt

pepper

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Toss potatoes with 1-2 tsp olive oil and roast on rimmed baking sheet for 20 minutes. Remove from oven (leave potatoes on baking sheet); keep oven at 375.

While potatoes are roasting, heat 2 Tbsp olive oil in a skillet over medium heat. Add onion and cook until translucent, about 6-8 minutes. Add mushrooms and sage and cook until mushrooms have softened, about 4 minutes. Remove from heat, let cool.

Combine mushroom-onion mixture, 1/2 cup tomato sauce, buffalo meat, panko/breadcrumbs, egg, and salt and pepper (to taste) in a bowl. Mix well. Form into a ‘meatloaf shape’ on the same baking sheet with the potatoes (you might have to move the potatoes to the side). Bake for 30 minutes. Mix remaining 1/4 cup tomato sauce and red pepper flakes; brush top of meatloaf with tomato mixture. Bake for 20 more minutes. Remove from oven, let rest 10 minutes, then serve.

Dining in the ATL: Korean Tacos

You either love or hate the idea of Korean + Mexican, and apparently you either love or hate the new Korean taqueria here in Atlanta, Hankook Taqueria.  I fall firmly in the love category with the former, but perhaps somewhere in the 'like but don't love' category with the latter.  


Korean tacos seem to be all the rage these days.  I first read about them last year in Gourmet, and since then I've heard little snippets here and there about how good they are and what an amazing fusion Korean and Mexican is.  And, I love that they started from a little taco truck in LA.  Ever since living in New Haven, Connecticut, I’ve had a very fond place in my heart for taco (and other food) trucks.  It is therefore not a surprise that I was very excited to discover a Korean taqueria in Atlanta (although in actual restaurant and not in truck format, I was still excited).

My boss suggested a lunch outing to try out Hankook Taqueria this week.  Of course I went, and enthusiastically.  While I liked the place overall, I may perhaps like the concept a bit more than the food, and while it's not something I'm going to crave, I probably will go back with others in tow to give it another try.  In my estimation, Hankook has a lot of potential, but hasn't quite lived up to that potential yet.

As shown in the poor quality photo above (ah, cell phones and bad lighting), I ordered a fish taco (panko crusted tilapia with hoisin tartar sauce) and a beef taco (bul gogi marinated in korean bbq sauce).  All of the tacos come with lettuce, green onion, green cabbage tossed in soy sesame vinaigrette, onions, cilantro, lime, and jack cheese (I took a copy of the take-out menu, in case you are wondering how I could so easily recite this entire list).  There were six of us at lunch, so I also sampled several of the 'Street Foods', including the vegetable pancake, the dumplings, and the tempura fried sweet potatoes.  


While I liked both tacos, I didn't feel they were distinctly different enough from one another.  I think that with so many add-ons common to all of the tacos, in the end they just seemed a bit like the same thing.  Both the fish and the beef were quite good (and the fish didn't taste nearly as much like prepared fish sticks as the photo above implies).  But I was left wanting more.  More differentiation.  More Korean.  More 'something'.  As for the sides, they were good as well, albeit a bit greasy, especially the sweet potatoes, which I probably wouldn't order again.


Always a fan of the hole-in-the-wall, I didn't have any problems with the decor, or lack thereof.  True, the tablecloths were kind of cheap, but so was the food ($4.86 for two tacos and a glass of water).  What I didn't like was the sticky, greasy smell in the air.  And my boss was a bit saddened that the server at a Korean taqueria didn't understand an order placed in Korean.  


Complaints aside, I'll probably go back to Hankook, and sooner rather than later.  I'm still curious to try the other tacos (pork, tofu, chicken), and to see if the Kimchee fried rice is as good as I've heard it is.  I still love the idea of Korean + Mexican fusion.  Hankook fills a unique niche among Atlanta's already diverse ethnic food dining scene, and with a few tweaks here and there, I think I could be pushed into the love category for Hankook, too.

Chicken Pot Pie, or, Recreating the Magic

I have a system for my recipes.  First, I identify recipes of interest, either online, in the NY Times Magazine, in one of the cooking magazines I subscribe to (now that Gourmet is defunct I guess it is really magazine. . .singular [Bon Appetit]), or from friends and family.  Recipes of interest get filed into an ever-expanding folder, roughly divided into categories; 'Appetizers', 'Vegetables', 'Main Dishes'...  Of course I can never remember whether I put that amazing looking butternut squash recipe under 'Vegetables' or 'Main Dishes' but at least I try to have a system.  Once I've cooked a recipe I either elevate it to a new status, the binder, if I've liked it, or I throw it out [by throw it out, I mean, recycle the paper], if I haven't.  This way I have a constant source of new recipes, as well as a special place for recipes I want to keep as a permanent part of my repertoire.

(Sidenote:  When I moved this summer I thought I lost my recipe folder.  Panic set in.  What was I going to do without all of those clipped pages of recipes to try?  Was I going to have to start over from scratch?  Thankfully, my mom came to visit and suggested I look in the box at the bottom of the stack of boxes that I was sure only contained my china.  Guess what?  My recipes were there.  Close call].

Last year I made a chicken pot pie that was so amazing it easily survived the transition from folder to binder.  In fact, it was so good that Mw and I both have had recurrent dreams about this chicken pot pie.  A perfect comfort food for this nasty ATL weather, I decided to make it again this evening.  Upon retrieving the recipe from the binder, however, I discovered that I'd crossed off about half of the list of ingredients, written in a few of my own, and frankly, I couldn't remember if I'd stuck to the rest of the recipe or just used it as general guidance.  Had I really used 12 tablespoons of butter last time?  And five cups of chicken stock?  Really, 12 tablespoons of butter?  So I set about to recreate the pot pie magic, while backing off a bit from the butter and adjusting a few other things as I saw fit.

The resultant pot pie was delicious, in fact, really delicious, although Mw declared that while to anyone else it would have been a 'masterpiece', to him it was merely 'good'.  But that's only because he'd had the first one, and we never can quite equal the fantasy in our mind, can we?  At least this time I wrote everything down, so you, too, dear reader can try this at home [to my sister:  I am sure you hate the fact that I use prepared puff pastry dough, but some things just take too long on a weeknight].

Chicken Pot Pie
Started with this recipe, but ended up quite a bit different

Active time:  45 minutes

Total time:  1.5 hours

Serves 6

2 whole split chicken breasts, bone-in, skin-on

2 tablespoons olive oil

3 cups chicken stock, heated to a simmer

5 tablespoons butter

1 yellow onion, chopped

1 carrot (or around 8 baby carrots), chopped

2 stalks celery, chopped

1 package mushrooms, sliced

1/2 cup flour

1/4 cup heavy cream

1/4 cup minced parsley

1 prepared puff pastry dough, thawed

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.  Place chicken breasts on a baking sheet.  Rub with olive oil, salt, and pepper.  Roast chicken for 45 minutes, or until cooked through.  Cool, then cut meat from the bones and dice [you could also do this part ahead of time and have the chicken ready to go].

While chicken is roasting, melt butter in a stockpan over medium heat.  Add onions and cook until translucent, about 15 minutes.  Add celery and carrots and cook until beginning to soften, about 7 minutes.   Add mushrooms and cook an additional 5 minutes.   Add flour and cook over low heat for 2 minutes, stirring constantly.  Add stock and cook for another 2 minutes, or more, until mixture begins to thicken.  Add cream, salt, pepper and mix.    Add cubed chicken and parsley.

Increase oven temperature to 375 degrees.  Pour chicken mixture into an ovenproof baking dish.  Top with puff pastry dough, crimping the edges as desired, and making a few small slits in the top to let steam escape.  Place on a baking sheet and bake for 45 minutes, or until top is browned and filling is bubbling. Let rest for ten minutes, then serve.

Tasting is Believing--The Simplest Tomato Sauce

I'd read about this recipe, but somehow it seemed too good to be true.  A can of tomatoes, some butter, an onion (and not even a chopped onion at that), and it's the best tomato sauce ever?  I was intrigued, and moved this recipe to the top of the list.

The beauty of this recipe, aside from the taste, which I will get to later, is its simplicity.  Literally all you do is open a can of tomatoes (apparently San Marzano are recommended, and I was able to find those at our local farmer's market, but I'm guessing any 28 oz can of whole/plum tomatoes would yield similar results), cut an onion in half, and put it all into a pot with some butter.  Forty-five minutes of simmering later:  amazing pasta sauce.

It's hard to pinpoint what it is about this recipe that made me want to skip the pasta and only have sauce for dinner.  It's just good.  Really, really good.  The butter gives it a creamy richness that is lacking in an olive-oil based sauce, the onion flavors are distinct but subtle (and even though you are supposed to discard the onion at the end, Mw happily ate it alongside his pasta and was quite pleased with how the cooking process transformed the onion), and the tomatoes have a slight sweetness to them that almost fools you into thinking that they didn't come straight from a can.  And, the other amazing thing about this recipe, which I'd read about but couldn't bring myself to believe, is that it was better without the Parmesean cheese.  As Mw sagely noted, "Who knew?  The better and simpler the sauce, the less cheese you need."

I will register one teeny complaint that I had with this sauce--it was a bit too thin in places (you may be wondering how a sauce can be thin in places, and from the picture below it certainly doesn't appear thin, but there was a bit of wateriness at the bottom of the bowl that I didn't like).  I tried simmering with the lid only partially on to cook off some of the water but it didn't entirely work. I think next time I will drain the tomatoes a wee bit before putting them into the pot. But only a wee bit, it's such a good recipe that I wouldn't want to waste a single drop.

Tomato Sauce with Butter and Onions
From Marcela Hazan's Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking

28 ounces (one big can) whole peeled tomatoes
5 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 medium yellow onion, peeled and halved
Salt to taste

Combine tomatoes (including juices), butter, and onion in a saucepan.  Bring to a simmer over medium heat.  Once simmering, lower the heat and continue to cook at a low simmer, stirring occasionally to help crush the tomatoes into the sauce, for about 45 minutes (until fat droplets float free of tomatoes).  Remove from heat, remove onion and discard, and salt to taste.  Serve over pasta.  Serves 4.