learning to be human, since 1984
vegetarian
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:
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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!
Beans, the Superfood of the Proletariat
Sep 3rd
These little fuckers should wear capes. Packed with iron, protein, folate and dietary fiber, few foods can match the boon that is beans. They’re also rich in other vitamins, minerals and yes folks, they contain the full array and amount of amino acids. Combine them with rice and you’ve got yourself a complex carbohydrate—and a meal that’s eaten the world over. Plus they make you fart.
What more could one ask for? Well fancy you should ask. I buy my beans dry rather than canned—either in bulk or pre-measured packs—and I do this for several good reasons.
- Weight. I bike. To work. To friends’ houses. To the grocery store. Canned beans are packed in that weird goo, not to mention…a can. Both of these things are HEAVY. Bagged beans are dehydrated, so I get more for the weight. After soaking, reconstituting, and cooking, beans nearly triple in mass. Amazing.
- Cost. This is somewhat related to reason one. A bag of beans and can of beans weighing roughly the same also cost roughly the same where I shop. In fact, usually exactly the same. Even in bulk they’re close. The dried will yield about 2½ more in mass than the canned. Et, voilà. Pound for pound, beans are some of the cheapest natural protein in the world.
- Storage. I keep them bagged or in a sealed container. They take up less space than a can and generally last longer. Were I to stockpile dried, I could use them in whatever quantity I wanted. Try that with a can.
- Processing. I like knowing how my food is prepared and I like buying it with the least amount of processing possible. This is how beans should get to my mouth:
- Grow beans
- Harvest beans
- Dehydrate beans
- Package beans
- Transport
That’s my sort of bean. None of that aforementioned goo. That the fuck is that shit anyway? Were I to grow them, I could eliminate the last three steps—maybe someday, but I’m not quite there yet.
Hopefully I’ve convinced you to at least give beans a chance. You might be tempted to give peas a chance too, but beans would give that legume a lashing of a lifetime. No offense, Mr. Lennon. I’ll post some bean recipes soon. If you’ve got a recipe or ideas to share, email me. If enough are submitted, I’ll try to post something in a similar vein.