I write songs. But songs don't have recipes. They just exist. There are no measurements. You either know how to do it or you don't. The songs are either good or they aren't. It all depends on how many songs you've written.
So it suddenly possessed me to write a recipe. I've never made this recipe, and I don't know how it's going to taste. Probably someone out there has made something similar, but I deliberately didn't do any research. Something just came out of nowhere and said: "Saffron Chicken."
I had to think: what style? Could be Italian. French. Vietnamese. Indian. I settled upon that all-encompassing category: Asian. But as I typed it up, I imagined what it would taste like. And I realised that I don't have to imagine. I already know what it's going to taste like. I don't know the method, but I'll improvise and find it, just like I improvise a solo on top of a song (done; see below -- Ed 11/03).
What do you think it's going to taste like? How do you think it should be made? I'll make it exactly according to the specifications and not taste it once until it's time to eat, just to see how faithful my culinary instincts are . . .
Saffron Chicken
4 tablespoons ghee or peanut oil
8 boneless, skinless chicken thighs
6 large shallots, finely diced
4 large cloves garlic, minced
1 medium onion, cut in 1/2 inch squares
1 tsp. ground cumin
1 tsp. ground coriander
1 tsp. chile powder
3/4 cup coconut milk
1 cup chicken broth
3/4 tsp. salt
1 tsp. palm sugar
1 tsp. tamarind paste
1 tbsp. saffron threads
Juice of half a lime
1/2 cup chopped fresh cilantro
Method:
Brine chicken in salt and sugar (about 1/4 C each per litre of water) for about 2 hours in the refrigerator. In a non-stick saucepan, sauté the shallots and onion in 1 tablespoon ghee (clarified butter) or peanut oil on medium heat for about 8 minutes or until translucent. Add garlic and sauté another two minutes. Remove from pan and set aside.
Add 2 more tablespoons ghee. Heat until sizzling, then add the chicken, cumin, coriander and chile powder. Mix well and sauté until browned on all sides, stirring frequently, about 8-10 minutes. Add back onion mixture, then coconut milk and chicken broth. Bring to a boil then reduce to medium low and simmer, uncovered, 10 minutes, stirring frequently.
When sauce has thickened enough to coat the back of a spoon, add the palm sugar, tamarind paste and saffron. Stir well to combine. Simmer another ten minutes, covered, stirring occasionally. Add lime juice and 1/4 cup cilantro. Stir well to combine. Serve on steamed basmati rice with cilantro garnish.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Friday, October 24, 2008
My Kitchen
I’m very, very particular about my kitchen. It’s probably the most groomed room in the house. No, not because of expensive appliances. It’s also more akin to a galley on a small boat, so every iota of space counts and for one who likes all his tools at hand, this can be a blessing and a curse.
The pots and pans became a major storage issue until I bought a pot rack, from which hang at least 8 pans and pots. Brilliant!
Early on, I had a very expensive food processor, but I ditched it. I actually prefer to do the prep and I have a hand mixer so it’s not necessary.
I need a very, very good chef’s knife that always has to be sharp enough for me to literally shave with.
I need a dishwasher. My kitchen is too tiny to put up wooden dish racks. I like all needed items, eg. vegetable peelers, cheese graters, pizza cutters and so on to be within hand’s reach. Same with oils, sauces, dry goods and spices.
I need an in-sink garbage disposal. I can’t stand the smell of yesterday’s chopped, discarded lettuce rotting in the garbage. I do all the peeling, husking, coring and discarding directly in the sink.
I need lots of counter lighting, preferably halogen. One at each station. I need counters to be swept completely clean constantly. I cannot cook if I sense the counter is dirty.
I mainly use paper towels to dry/clean things. Dishcloths or sponges accumulate too much bacteria. (Chuck Gerba once opined that a typical kitchen counter has more bacteria on it than your toilet seat). If the sheet of paper towel is only wet and not dirty, I hang it over the oven handle and let it dry and then use it as a counter rag.
The kitchen should be used for only one thing at any given time; I can’t stand someone coming in to make a sandwich while I’m prepping dinner. Actually, make that I can’t stand anyone being in the kitchen while I’m cooking unless we’re partners making the same dish.
I love my kitchen. And my kitchen loves me.
The pots and pans became a major storage issue until I bought a pot rack, from which hang at least 8 pans and pots. Brilliant!
Early on, I had a very expensive food processor, but I ditched it. I actually prefer to do the prep and I have a hand mixer so it’s not necessary.
I need a very, very good chef’s knife that always has to be sharp enough for me to literally shave with.
I need a dishwasher. My kitchen is too tiny to put up wooden dish racks. I like all needed items, eg. vegetable peelers, cheese graters, pizza cutters and so on to be within hand’s reach. Same with oils, sauces, dry goods and spices.
I need an in-sink garbage disposal. I can’t stand the smell of yesterday’s chopped, discarded lettuce rotting in the garbage. I do all the peeling, husking, coring and discarding directly in the sink.
I need lots of counter lighting, preferably halogen. One at each station. I need counters to be swept completely clean constantly. I cannot cook if I sense the counter is dirty.
I mainly use paper towels to dry/clean things. Dishcloths or sponges accumulate too much bacteria. (Chuck Gerba once opined that a typical kitchen counter has more bacteria on it than your toilet seat). If the sheet of paper towel is only wet and not dirty, I hang it over the oven handle and let it dry and then use it as a counter rag.
The kitchen should be used for only one thing at any given time; I can’t stand someone coming in to make a sandwich while I’m prepping dinner. Actually, make that I can’t stand anyone being in the kitchen while I’m cooking unless we’re partners making the same dish.
I love my kitchen. And my kitchen loves me.
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Magret de canard au miel

I made Magret de canard au miel dijonnaise tonight. The actual magret I got from Jean-Talon market, at a game store (gibier). I ended up being slightly disappointed, because it was nowhere near as sleek as the one I made in France; still, it beat a filet mignon hands down.
You want to brine the duck breast in a mixture of sugar and salt for about an hour before cooking. When it’s time to cook, sprinkle the non-fat side with salt and pepper generously and cook from a cold pan to medium temperature. The fat is going to render; dump off but save! Duck fat is sooo tasty.
Cook for about ten minutes on the fat side, then turn over and cook for ten more. Place on a plate and foil-tent. Put in oven at around 200 degrees while you do the sauce.

Sauce
3 tablespoons clear honey
2 tablespoons dijon mustard
1 tablespoon chopped garlic
1 tablespoon chopped fresh tarragon
1/2 cup of chicken broth
1/2 a cup of chardonnay
Salt, pepper
Reduce all for about six minutes on medium. Pour over sliced magret. Serve with petite pommes de terres and haricots fins.
Monday, October 13, 2008
Pizzafolies
Blork was more prescient than is possible in his comment when he recommended going back to his regular pizza peel. Trouble is, I can’t. See, when I have my dough laden with its ingredients (pictured below) it is almost impossible to get it off the peel and onto the pizza stone (hot! hot! Close oven door RIGHT NOW!) without something going into freefall, be it the dough scrunching, cheese falling off, what have you . . . at least with the traditional peel, even with corn meal.He might beg to differ, but for years I wrestled with pre-baking the dough for a few minutes so it was hard enough to slide on and off the traditional peel, and it just never came out right . . . it wasn’t until I started using the slide-off peel that I could assemble everything on the dough and expect it to still exist in its format when it came to sliding it onto the stone. (Why does this sound so sexual?)
So, conditions were ripe last night for disaster. Thing is, I had forgotten just how to slide the pizza off the Super Peel . . . instead, I assembled it on the peel on the SLIDE-ON position, so when I went to slide it onto the red-hot stone, I realised it was the opposite and I could not get it off the peel, it being sloppy and not inclined to slide in one piece (see doomed pizza, assembled, last photo). Trust me, with two other pizzas and all the ingredients and a dinner date waiting in the wings, I was not in the mood for this to happen.
I tried to spade it off onto the traditional peel. It went, sloppily, but as predicted, that was about that. When I tried to get it onto the stone, it fell apart. Literally. Cheese, mushrooms, peppers, all over my 550-degree oven, all over the pizza stone.
Fire, fire about to happen, thought I, and desperately tried to rescue the situation. Luckily, my neurons, dendrites and axons decided to get together and finally have a party and cooperate after months of feuding and I was able to rescue the situation. The one disaster-pizza I had to toss, but the other two were awesome.
Below is pictured the roasted cherry-tomato-red-pepper-sun-dried tomato-prosciutto-mozzarella di bufala concoction that I came up with. The other pizza had no sauce, just truffle oil, goat cheese, sun-dried tomatoes, Kalamata olives, basil and arugula.
Roasted Cherry Tomato pizza sauce
Ingredients
A bunch of cherry tomatoes — doesn’t matter how many. Lots. Little buds removed, quartered
Two large cloves garlic, diced
Sun-dried tomatoes packed in oil, drained and finely chopped
Roasted red peppers, also out of the jar, patted dry and finely chopped
Good olive oil
Fresh oregano
Chicken broth
Method
Assemble all ingredients in a casserole. Mix well. Roast on about 500 degrees for about 45 minutes, observing often and stirring about every 15 minutes. When done, let cool at least to room temperature.
Purée sauce with hand mixer or food processor, adding chicken broth if too thick. Spread on dough.



Thursday, October 09, 2008
Kitchen Gadgets Part 19
As noted in this post I do like my little toys. But over the years I've become more discriminating. I don't want to "simplify" my kitchen experience. Ergo: get a food processor. I don't want to process food (at least like that). I want to spend the time chopping and dicing. Obviously the only things I'd want to process would be meat for grinding and pasta for flattening. The things I can do myself I want to do myself.
Blork pointed out that "highly specialized tools are for the birds." Quite correct, but only for the Geospiza fortis family of finches.
I, on the other hand, am a crow. And I like my highly specialized tools. Specifically, I like them because they are highly specialized.
But to clarify, I don't like useless so-called time-saving devices; rather, devices that (insert "heh-heh" here) make me look more professional than I really am.
A garlic press is an example of a so-called time-saving device; however, even though I possess one, I would only use it in a bare minimum of cases, because I simply enjoy chopping garlic. It is my hobby to see how finely I can chop it (indulge me!) and squeezing the fuckers into paste is not enjoyable to me unless I'm in a particular mood.
But the finer things, as Blork mentions: a Microplane grater is something I can no longer do without. An amazing chef's knife is something I can no longer do without, and the amazing stone sharpener that complements it.
Other Stuff I Have Gone Through And Discarded: several garlic choppers, a useless and dangerous "food flipper", and many other "As Seen On TV" items that usually belong to Starfrit.
But I must say that I still use my Hearthkit and I particularly enjoy my pizza peel (one of which I personally had sent to Blork).
And now I have two more tools that make my caw a little more raucous: witness the Benriner Turning Slicer. I've always wondered how those sushi places got those little carroty curls and radish hairs onto my plate and now I know.
And how those little cucumber slices have those tiny notches in them (specialized cucumber notcher, not pictured). But just look at the results! (Guaranteed not Photoshopped!)


And spy this fine colander I got at the kitchen supply store . . .

keeps your pasta out of the soapy dishwater that you clean your serving bowl with!
So, time will tell whether these things will ultimately be consigned to the back shelf of the dark cupboard but for now I'm a sucker for that kitchen gadget . . .
Blork pointed out that "highly specialized tools are for the birds." Quite correct, but only for the Geospiza fortis family of finches.
I, on the other hand, am a crow. And I like my highly specialized tools. Specifically, I like them because they are highly specialized.
But to clarify, I don't like useless so-called time-saving devices; rather, devices that (insert "heh-heh" here) make me look more professional than I really am.
A garlic press is an example of a so-called time-saving device; however, even though I possess one, I would only use it in a bare minimum of cases, because I simply enjoy chopping garlic. It is my hobby to see how finely I can chop it (indulge me!) and squeezing the fuckers into paste is not enjoyable to me unless I'm in a particular mood.
But the finer things, as Blork mentions: a Microplane grater is something I can no longer do without. An amazing chef's knife is something I can no longer do without, and the amazing stone sharpener that complements it.
Other Stuff I Have Gone Through And Discarded: several garlic choppers, a useless and dangerous "food flipper", and many other "As Seen On TV" items that usually belong to Starfrit.
But I must say that I still use my Hearthkit and I particularly enjoy my pizza peel (one of which I personally had sent to Blork).
And now I have two more tools that make my caw a little more raucous: witness the Benriner Turning Slicer. I've always wondered how those sushi places got those little carroty curls and radish hairs onto my plate and now I know.
And how those little cucumber slices have those tiny notches in them (specialized cucumber notcher, not pictured). But just look at the results! (Guaranteed not Photoshopped!)


And spy this fine colander I got at the kitchen supply store . . .

keeps your pasta out of the soapy dishwater that you clean your serving bowl with!
So, time will tell whether these things will ultimately be consigned to the back shelf of the dark cupboard but for now I'm a sucker for that kitchen gadget . . .
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