learning to be human, since 1984
food production
Crockpot Sauerkraut
Feb 8th
There are few things more satisfying when eating than contrast. Crunchy, tart, sweet, sour, salty: sauerkraut compliments both itself and the foods it is commonly eaten with. When I lucked upon two heads of cabbage in my Growing Power Market Basket, it certainly wasn’t the first thing I thought to make. But with some research, and the promise of delicious lacto-fermented leaves of cabbagey goodness, I made my first batch this morning. This is definitely an in-process project, so I’ll write about the successes and failures in the weeks to come. Here’s how I started:
Ingredients:
- 2 small/medium heads of lettuce, outer leaves removed, about 2 pounds each. Washed, drained, and halved. I used green, but both red and green is ideal. Oh, and get organic if possible, as pesticides kill the natural bacteria that are necessary for the fermentation process.
- salt; I used Kosher, but pickling is supposedly ideal because of its grain size. Rock salt apparently works too. Also, avoid iodized salt as it will kill bacteria!
Equipment:
- large, clean food-grade container. I used a large ceramic crockpot, though a bucket or crock would work. The sides should be as straight as possible.
- a good (sharp) knife and cutting board
- a plastic bag capable of holding water without leaking. I used a garbage bag, and washed the outside before using it, in case of residues.
- water
- a 50-60°F area; cool, dark, and handsome. Okay, the handsome part is ridiculous. Yet I won’t delete it.
Instructions:
- Cut out the core. I had never tried it before, and was extremely pleased to find that it had a similar peppery heat to mustard greens.
- With the flat face down on the cutting board, cut each half into quarter-inch strips. You can go smaller or larger; smaller should decrease the time it takes for the fermentation to occur, while larger should take longer. Makes sense.
- Layer the cut cabbage into the vessel with salt. For every two pounds of cabbage, use 1 tablespoon of salt. For the record, 1 tablespoon equals 3 teaspoons. Mix everything together with your hands. You did wash them first, right? Press the cabbage down with your hands. Some people even bash it, to bruise the cabbage and get it to start releasing liquid sooner. You don’t have to do this, as the salt will draw the moisture out—but you could try it especially for red cabbage, which is harder. Point is, compact it as much as you can so it is not at the top of the vessel.
- Partially fill the plastic bag with water. The bag is going into the vessel, on top of the cabbage to both:
- press out more water
- keep air and other debris out, which allows fermentation rather than rotting
- to allow the resulting CO2 an escape (through the tiny gaps around the perimeter, between the bag and the vessel).
- Once the bag is in the vessel, add more water till it sufficiently is weighing the cabbage down. What is sufficient? I’d say at least a gallon or three of water, depending on how much cabbage you’re using. I’ve got about 2 gallons in my bag. Tie the bag up!
- Let the pre-kraut sit in a cool area, out of direct sunlight, and away from critters.
- Lift the bag, checking periodically. I’m going to give mine a taste after a week. It may only take a week. Two seems to be the ideal, but it’s all up to your palate. It may even take up to five weeks, so use your senses.
- If something stinks or seems otherwise awry, it probably is. Ditch the kraut and call the doctor if you’ve eaten it and feel…off. As always, I take no responsibility for your kitchen creations, so don’t blame me!
- If everything seems good, eat! Decide if it needs more time, or if it has gone past its prime. When it tastes good to you, you can jar and refrigerate it, or even bag and freeze it for later.
I’ll post further developments as they occur! Peace.
Resources:
Quick Tip: Freeze Your Cheese!
Jan 27th
I’d like to start a new kind of blog post: the quick tip! This will apply to any simple hint that has helped me out in my many endeavors. This one is food related. And now, the tip!
If you want to shred a soft cheese (or another similar substance that break easily), freeze it first, at least partially. The cold will firm it up so that it doesn’t tear before it shreds. Different freeze times might work better for different cheeses, so give it a shot. Experiment! And don’t forget, don’t be scared to mess things up! You won’t learn any other way.
Greek Siesta Snack
Sep 18th
Yes. Tostones are good. But this is better. Simple, filling, delicious, and pretty cheap assuming you have a few pantry staples. Best yet, you won’t find this in any cookbook (I’d hope, anyway). It’s not even a recipe, just a rustic happenstance that occurs across much of the Mediterranean.
I learned it from my Yiayia while relaxing on her terrace in Greece, here:
View Larger Map
The miserable might of the early afternoon sun sends most people home for lunch and a nap—the beach would be refreshing were it not for that excessively radiating ball of gas, which burns even those whose skin is darker than cinnamon. 110ºF plus is not uncommon. So, to recreate a Summer afternoon in a Greek paradise, stay home and gather the following:
- Bread, unsliced, homemade or from your baker—it can even be a day old. Baguettes and peasant loaves work wonderfully. And while I’m at it, fuck sliced bread and abominations that come in plastic bags. Seriously, fuck that inferior fodder. Bread should have 5 ingredients: flour, water, yeast, salt, air. Additional herbs, cheese and so on are fine, but when your bread even has an ingredients list, you’re fucked, hard. No apologies. It’s inexcusable that most Americans don’t even know the simple pleasure of real bread. Off my high horse. I’ll post a recipe eventually. Back to the ingredients.
- Extra virgin olive oil. Don’t skimp. Or I’ll drop another rant on your ass.
- Balsamic vinegar. Always get the best you can afford—but any will do, really.
- Ripe tomatoes. I usually use Romas, but any will do.
- Dried oregano. It’s not a Greek kitchen without olive oil and oregano
- Kosher or larger crystal sea salt
- Freshly cracked black pepper
- 1/2 a red onion or a large shallot
Optional are:
- Feta. Not absolutely necessary, but awesome. Get a whole block in brine. If you ever admit to me in person that you buy crumbled feta, I’ll smack you. Seriousl
- Water. If your bread’s a little hard, sop the bread with some H20. Not too much, it should still be able to absorb the oil, vinegar, and tomato.
- Capers in brine. Yum.
You’ll also need:
- a large, flat-ish bowl or dish
- hands; the more the merrier
- a trusty knife and board (if necessary)
Okay. Simple simple. Rip your bread into chunks big enough to hold and gnash on. Two or three bites—big and place in the bowl. This is where you sop the bread if need be. We usually do it even with fresh bread because it helps everything meld together. Cut the tomatoes into wedges and distribute over the bread. Do the same with the onion or shallot. Season with salt, pepper, and oregano. Drizzle with olive oil and balsamic vinegar, roughly 3:1 respectively. If you want feta, cut off a piece and crumble it up by hand, as fine as you like. Let it sit for a bit to absorb the flavors. We sometimes even use our [clean] hands to mash it roughly together so each piece of bread becomes imparted with all the flavors.
Grab a piece, make sure it’s got a bit of everything on it, and sink your teeth in. Amazing
N.B. I’m a huge fennel and tarragon fan—and I think those flavors would work here, as they do for a lot of light, refreshing Mediterranean fare. Give it a try!
Tostones – Fried Plantain Medallions
Sep 16th
This is one of the easiest and most rewarding dishes I’ve ever made. Ever.
These are eaten all over the Caribbean and Central America, and are also called patachones and tachinos. Since they’re starchier than bananas, they’re usually eaten with some sort of savory dish and used to sop up fats and liquids—but they’re also eaten as treats, which is how I’ve prepared them. Here’s how to do it. You’ll need:
- However many plantains you want to prepare. I’d get two or three the first time around.
- Oil. I prefer vegetable. Canola can suck it. Hard.
- Salt. Kosher please, thanks.
- Sugar (optional)
You’ll also need:
- a pan—preferably a wide one if you’re cooking a lot. I used a small 8–inch cast iron pan (I only used one plantain). I’d say at least a 12–inch pan if you’re cooking two or three.
- tongs
- a knife and cutting board
- a wooden spoon, spatula, or glass bottle
- a bowl of cool water
- a cloth towel for drying the plantains
- a drying rack or paper towels/bags to absorb excess oil
- a fry thermometer (optional)
First things first: get your pan on a medium high flame and fill it with 2cm of oil. Let it heat as you prep your plantains. If you’ve never seen a plantain…
Now you have.
They look super similar to bananas, but they’re not as easy to peel by hand. So, with a knife, cut off both ends. Then make a slit through the flesh from end to end. Remove the fruit and cut into 4cm lengths (roughly 1½ inches). The peel should look something like this:
Not all that different from a banana, but it is much stiffer, as is the fruit inside. Anyhow. Since the segments you cut are 4cm and the oil is 2cm, that means we’ll have to give them a flip to cook both sides. Once the oil is up to temperature (325°F) gently place in the segments so they rest on a flat, cut side. If you don’t have a fry thermometer (I don’t either, don’t worry), just guess. The oil should get excited initially, but should settle down after 30 seconds or so. If it continues to rage, turn the heat down slightly. You should be able to see the segments as they cook–they shouldn’t be completely enveloped in bubbling oil. Here’s a photo to clarify:
After about 1½ minutes or when the bottom halves have started to brown, give them a flip to the other flat side with your tongs. Cook again for 1½ minutes. They should look something like this:
Now remove them from the oil and let them drain a little on a cooling rack or paper towels. I kill the heat at this point because the cast iron retains the temperature and I don’t want the oil to burn. Using the wooden spoon (or other squashing implement), flatten each segment down to half it’s size, like this:
Then, place the medallions in the bowl of water for a minute or so. Don’t let them sit too long or they’ll absorb excessive moisture and fall apart. Keep this in mind when squashing them–don’t make them too flat! Remove them from the water and pat dry in a cloth towel.
Get the oil back to about the same temperature as before and gently place in the medallions. You’ll need a little more room this time around; work in batches if you need to so you don’t overcrowd the pan and lower the temperature. Also: when frying it’s best to place things in away from you, so the oil doesn’t splash onto you. Don’t blame me for your hospital visit! Work smart and safe, always. Here they are back in the oil:
Cook for about 4 minutes per side, until golden brown. Remove, drain, and season immediately with salt (even if making them sweet). If you want them to be sweet, sprinkle on a sugar variety of your liking. I like granulated or cane for the texture. You could even use a squeeze of lemon juice, some crème fraîche, or whipped cream to add some more richness and bite to this treat.
There you have it.
If you live in Milwaukee and are fry-tened (groan) to fry on your own, let me know and maybe we can arrange something.
Eat well, and cook safely!
The Em-pear Strikes Back
Sep 12th
I know, the clever titles are killing you.
Its just past 3:30 in the morning and though tired, I don’t really feel it. So, I went for a super-mini bike ride up the street to check on the pears I mentioned awhile back. Unlike last time, I spotted a cluster instantly. They’re not full size yet, nor should they be. Afterall, its barely September. Anyhow, here’s a photo:
I found a long stick near the tree and used it to knock a few morsels off their boughs. Weirdly, all of them had a really soft side. At first I thought it was due to them hitting the road, or from the impact of the stick. But I probed further and found this:
Looks like either:
a) general underdevelopment (though not likely)
b) some sort of insect infestation (though the darker bits didn’t seem like insect eggs…but I’m no entomologist)
c) aliens (yes, Dr. Who’s fault)
Anybody have any ideas?
I did manage to get one which had a significantly smaller patch and only nibbled one side (seen in first photograph). It was a bit tart and much harder than a ripe pear, but the sweetness had definitely started to develop and the skin was nice and crisp.
This led me to a pretty decent idea: I’m going to build a tree-fruit harvester out of recycled goods. I’ll post the process on here in the weeks to come, along with photos of the tree, its yield, the surroundings, and related recipes. Keep your eyes open and your mouths closed–chewing delicious food, of course!
Tzatziki – Greek Yogurt and Cucumber Sauce
Aug 29th
You’ve probably eaten it on gyros – which is entirely fine. But most likely, it came out of a plastic squeeze bottle, watered down and soapy – which is not so fine. Most Greek food places use inferior ingredients. Sorry, countrymen, but garbage in, garbage out. And when the garbage out is synonymous with the food you shovel into your face…things aren’t good.
Here’s how to make it at home, like my mom, aunt, and yiayia make it. You’ll need:
- a small cucumber, peeled (save the peels and put them on your forehead to cool down in the summer. I also eat them or compost when possible)
- garlic cloves – one or two will do
- 1+ cups of strained yogurt – only get Greek or Middle Eastern. It should be thick, creamy, and rich. I avoid low fat yogurt which tends to be filled preservatives and other junk – and just doesn’t taste as good. I generally don’t endorse brands, but if you don’t know what to get try Fage Total. It’s increasingly available, and even their 0% fat version beats the living hell out of excuses for yogurt like Yoplait.
- lemon juice or vinegar to taste (only about 2 teaspoons)
- 2 teaspoons chopped mint or dill, chives, parsley, etc
- olive oil
- salt & pepper
(notice the super high fat content, and only four ingredients. It could be argued that there are only 2 ingredients, but lets not push it. Four is low enough)
- a small or medium bowl
- a grater
- a paring knife (or veg peeler)
- a fork
Cut the cucumber in half lengthwise and scoop the seeds out. I eat them. You can do as you please. Then peel with the paring knife and grate into the bowl. My mom squeezes out the excess water using towels or a colander – but its not entirely necessary. This is mostly for texture and crunch, so add as much as you like.
Use the back of a fork to smash the garlic into a paste. Add it to the bowl along with the lemon juice or vinegar. Lemons are more traditional especially in the summer. Just squeeze the juice into a clean cupped hand to filter out the seeds before adding to the bowl. The citric or acetic acid serves to cut the richness of the fat and to enhance the natural tanginess of the lactic acid present in the yogurt. Now, mix in the yogurt.
Optionally, add the mint or dill and season with salt (I like several cracks of fresh black pepper too) and mix everything together. Finish generously with extra virgin olive oil – give it a swirl to blend it in but not too much – and garnish with dill, cucumber segments, olives, or anything that seems suitable. If it looks ridiculous it probably is – if not, then its probably fine. Don’t sweat it.
Tzatziki is traditionally sopped with bread or eaten with meat, fish, or veggies. The richness of the fat and the acidity of the lemons compliment the strong flavors of many Greek, Mediterranean and Middle Eastern foods. You might want to double or triple the recipe – it goes quickly, especially in my family. If it makes it past the dinner table, it should keep a week plus, covered in the fridge. Oh, and the longer it sits in the fridge, the more the flavors meld – I’d suggest making it a few hours ahead of time at least.
N.B. After finding some fennel in the fridge, it occurred to me that the anise flavor would work well with the yogurt. Serving tzatziki with shaved fennel rather than or in addition to cucumber would work especially well if pairing it with another food prepared with fennel or tarragon, such as fish. But that’s an entirely different post!
Garam Masala inspired Rice with Sautéed Mushrooms and Onions
Aug 21st
Rifling through a book at work landed me on a page with a recipe for garam masala, the classic Indian spice mix. Seeing those ingredients got my wrinklepatch whirring like mad! What if I were to combine flavors from two disparate cuisines?
There’s nothing new about the idea – afterall, there’s surf-n-turf, East/West fusion, and the wonderful explosion of Mediterranean dishes whose origins are often debated, and passionately at that.
So what’s different? Maybe not much, but when I think of the cardamom, cloves, cinnamon, bay leaves, nutmeg, and cumin in garam masala … I immediately think: India. Sautéed mushrooms with onions isn’t as clear – but they certainly are traditional in French, Italian, and American cuisine. I’d never really thought about combining the two – but figured it couldn’t hurt.
The recipe is simple – rough measurements if any, so use your discretion. Lightly toast some cardamom pods, cloves, and whole black pepper corns in a hot pan. I also added some very roughly chopped chiles. Then add a little butter and oil to the pan. Once the fat is nice and hot, brown the rice. Add the water to the pan as well as a stick of cinnamon and wait till it simmers. Turn to low and cover for 18-20 minutes, or according to how you normally cook rice.
While the rice was cooking, I chopped three medium portobello mushrooms into a large dice, and did the same with a large onion. I sautéed both in a medium pan with butter, adding salt and pepper to taste. The sautéed stuff finished about the same time as the rice. I simply removed all the spices from the rice, and served the sautéed mushroom and onions on top, heavily garnished with roughly chopped parsley.
I really enjoyed using fridge and pantry stuff to try something I’d never done before – which was infusing the rice with the aforementioned spices. If oil was used rather than butter, this would be entirely vegan! You could even drizzle a little lemon juice on top for a nice acidic bite. If you come up with some other ideas, let me know by posting a comment. Thanks for reading!