Beer Meets Food

Egg Noodles with Shittake, Napa Cabbage, and Szechuan Sauce

2011-08-11T16:12:00.000-07:00

INGREDIENTS (serves 2):

1 22-oz. bottle Abita Andygator

1 tbsp. sesame oil
1/2 large yellow onion
4 cloves garlic, minced
1/3 cup mirin
3 tbsp. soy sauce
1/3 cup Szechuan sauce (any brand--I used House of Tsang)
1 tsp. preserved Szechuan peppercorn (this is available in Chinatown--toasted Szechuan pepper in oil with bits of peanut and spice)
dash of white pepper
6 oz. shittake mushrooms, cleaned, stemmed, and sliced
3 cups thinly shredded Napa cabbage
1 8-oz. can of water chestnuts, sliced
8 oz. Chinese-style cooked egg noodles
3 scallions, minced
salt and black pepper to taste

1) Heat oil and saute the onion until well sweated, about 8 minutes.
2) Add minced garlic and stir to toast, 1 minute.
3) Add to your pan the mirin, soy sauce, Szechuan sauce, preserved peppercorn, and white pepper. Allow to reduce slightly, 3 minutes or less.
4) Stir mushrooms, cabbage, and water chestnuts into your pan; cover and reduce heat for four to five minutes, or until cabbage is wilted and mushrooms are cooked.
5) Uncover and adjust your seasoning with salt and pepper. Garnish with minced scallions.
6) Open Abita Andygator.
7) Enjoy together.

THE BEER:

So, we were in New Orleans.

I can't even. I just. WOW.

You know when everyone tells you you're going to love something, and I mean actually every person to whom you speak, and you're like, "That's cool. Yes, I'm excited to see this movie/city/play/concert/mime/cricket match. Yes, I bet I'll love it too. No, sure, I get it, I'll love it more than that." And then it's so talked up that you almost think we'll see, suckaaaaas, and you start thinking nothing could possibly be that much fun?

Yeah, New Orleans is that much fun.

And we were at TALES OF THE COCKTAIL.

I can't even. I just. WOW.

Tales is an event for bartenders, industry, liquor and mixer companies, and "enthusiasts" (me). It showcases every year the best of American bartending--new techniques, old techniques revisited, high standards, new products--by encouraging everybody there to taste the best of American bartending.

And taste it.

And taste it. Over and over and over again.

(A Note from the Liver: Hi! *waves* This is Lyndsay's liver. Lyndsay seemed really to enjoy Tales, and since it was her birthday and all, I wasn't going to begrudge it to her. She's been working hard of late and reasonably well-behaved, not drinking much while she's writing and all. But...I would like to lodge the complaint that I was waving the white flag by the end of this trip, and Lyndsay carried on with the cocktailing like Sherman marching to Atlanta. It got ugly in here, scorched earth and salted fields and scenes of chaos and destruction, and anyway look at that picture up there--that beer is the size of her effing HEAD, who in their right--)

*loud sounds of scuffle*

Sorry about that, I told my liver we weren't interested in her drama.

So, Andygator is an actual big beer from Abita Brewing Company. The best Abita, I think, and done in a Helles Doppelbock style. It's super drinkable, malty but with a very dry, crisp edge to it. I think that it'll pair nicely with Szechuan peppercorn, as the spice from--

(HA! You think a liver who goes through as much as I do would go down without a fight?! Look at this! Look at this picture! THIS is what I am talking about! This sort of behavior! They were pouring amazing liquors and Krug champagne into punch trash bags with single giant ice cubes! How can one behave oneself when surrounded by such debauchery, such utterly hedo--)

*louder sounds of scuffle, followed by muffled thump*

Anyway.

Yeah. The Abita Andygator was good. You should try it. It might be a local thing (I can't source it in NYC yet), but then again, maybe they just don't distribute the big bottles to the Northeast. Fingers crossed for you.

And if you ever go to Tales of the Cocktail, it might be a good idea to give your liver a solid pep talk first. As Niccolo Machiavelli was at pains to remind us all those years ago, it works to be feared. And it works to be loved. But to be feared and loved is best, and that's the relationship I urge you to have with your own liver.

Garlic Scape Risotto with Poached Egg

2011-06-12T13:34:00.000-07:00

INGREDIENTS (serves six):

1 bottle Ithaca Flower Power India Pale Ale

two cups of arborio or other risotto rice
2 tbsp olive oil
1/2 cup white wine
approx. six to eight cups of best quality vegetable stock, warmed (better to have too much at hand than not enough)
1 pound of garlic scapes, cut into half-inch lengths
1 onion, chopped
1 tsp dried thyme
1 cup grated aged Prima Donna cheese (it's a Gouda style cheese; any nutty Gouda will do)
1 cup mixed fresh herbs (we used chives, lemon thyme, and Italian parsley)
salt and fresh black pepper

6 eggs, cracked into ramekins
1 pot of water splashed liberally with white vinegar

1) Heat oil in a heavy-bottomed pot and add onions, sweating 1-2 minutes.
2) Add rice and dried thyme and toast until fragrant, about 4 minutes. This affects the consistency of your risotto; do not skip.
3) Stirring constantly, add white wine; keep stirring 1-2 minutes, until liquid is absorbed.
4) Add about a cup and a half of warm broth to the pot; bring to a boil and then reduce to a simmer. Again, stir constantly, until the liquid is mostly absorbed.
5) When nearly all the liquid is gone, add 1/2 cup more vegetable stock. Continue this process, stirring constantly, adding broth as needed, for six minutes. Meanwhile, heat your water and vinegar mixture for poached eggs until lightly boiling.
6) Add garlic scapes to rice. You should have about six to eight more minutes of stirring/broth adding/cooking left for the rice to be done, and meanwhile the scapes will turn tender and bright green.
7) After about 15 minutes total cooking time in the liquid, taste your rice. If it is too firm, continue adding liquid, tasting frequently. When the rice is done, stir in the cheese and turn off heat.
8) Slide eggs from ramekins into poaching liquid and simmer for exactly four minutes.
9) Meanwhile, add most of your herbs to the rice, adjust your seasoning, and plate the risotto into six bowls, each with a slight dip in the center for the egg.
10) After simmering for four minutes, use a slotted spatula to remove your eggs from the liquid; plate them in the center of the risotto, season, and sprinkle with remaining herbs.
11) Open Ithaca Flower Power India Pale Ale. Enjoy together.

THE BEER:

The beer is so freaking good. If you can get your hands on this brew, do so at once. Gabe and I love it when the locals really slam one out of the park--Ithaca is a New York brewing company, and we can very often find this on draft. Flower Power is both hopped and dry-hopped, and five different times to boot, which makes sense when one takes in the layered but extravagantly fruit-forward nose. Go ahead, take a sip of it. Let hints of pineapple and pine horse around with each other in your mouth. You could never regret such a thing. And they bottle, so do you have an excuse? No. Just pull up your bootstraps and drink this utterly delicious beer.

THE SEXY:

Think about making brunch, and the way the perfect oatmeal coats your palate in the early morning. Think about eggs, and the way that their insides gooze when poached, spreading their buttery justice all over whatever else you have on your plate. Think, for a moment--if you'll pardon me--about mornings following long nights and delightful acquaintances, perhaps even particularly delicious acquaintances, and then think about what you might want to cook for any...stragglers. Think about your loved ones...your family staying over, your best friend from out of town. What's the sexiest food possible? THIS FOOD. This food right here. Sexiest. Food. Ever to have. I made it with my husband Gabe, but I now consider it free game.

Fiddlehead Fettucine with Wild Arugula Cream Sauce

2011-06-12T12:02:00.000-07:00

INGREDIENTS (serves 4):

1 12-oz. bottle Sierra Nevada Summerfest

1/2 pound fresh fiddlehead ferns, carefully washed and trimmed
1 onion, chopped
6 garlic cloves, sliced
2 tbsp olive oil
1 tsp dried thyme
1/2 tsp red chili flake
1/4 cup apple brandy (or regular brandy)
8 oz. chicken stock
8 oz. half and half
3/4 pound mixed fresh egg noodle and spinach noodle fettucine (bicolore!)
2 large handfuls wild arugula (regular is fine; ours is from the garden)
1/2 cup fresh minced parsley
salt and fresh black pepper

1) Heat oil in a large skillet; meanwhile, bring a pot of salted water to boil for the pasta.
2) Add onion, garlic, dried thyme, and red chili flake to skillet; sweat the onions, 3-4 minutes.
3) Pour brandy into pan, followed by stock and half and half. Season with salt and pepper and then bring to a simmer.
4) Cook, stirring often, until the sauce begins to thicken and the flavors blend, 8-10 minutes.
5) Immerse fiddleheads in the cream sauce and cover, turning down heat, cooking for approx. 6 minutes or until tender.
6) Meanwhile, cook your bicolore fresh pasta noodles for three minutes in rapidly boiling water. Drain.
7) Add arugula to skillet just before incorporating noodles. Toss the noodles into the cream sauce, which will wilt the arugula. Adjust seasoning to taste and sprinkle with fresh parsley.
8) Open Sierra Nevada Summerfest. Enjoy together.

THE BEER

Okay, okay, Sierra is not the most obscure choice of beers for us all to geek out over here at Beer Meets Food. But this is a very respectable pilsner, and it won the gold medal at the California State Fair in 1999 for that reason. It tastes like early summer, and so do fiddlehead ferns, and thus are we determined to match them up in our bellies. The Summerfest goes through an extra-long lagering period, according to Sierra's website, which is the time when the yeast re-absorbs ester compounds, sulfur compounds, and tannins, mellowing the flavor of the brew. It leaves this particular pilsner with a nice fresh cut grass aroma that blends very smoothly with bready malts and an active, crisp mouthfeel.

THE CAMERA:

Gabe bought a Canon T3I. As you can see above, our recipes will now be looking MUCH sexier. I have nothing to say regarding this purchase, however, because when Gabe starts talking about cameras with knowledgeable people like my friend Melinda, I start hearing things like, "It's a twenty-ex-three-Mach-niner Millenium Falcon model, with Bravo chrome zoom and eleven o'clock aperture range, and the lens is a seventy-two degree deadeye with curvature of LALALALALALALA."

THE FIDDLEHEAD FERN:

Know what I DO know about, though? Obscure veggies. The most magical ingredients on earth are always the ones with a very narrow period of availability, such as the powdered unicorn horn only harvested during the the intersection of the full moon and David Bowie's birthday. Fiddleheads taste like the green forest floor and are around for about three weeks, end of May into early June. Technically, it's an Ostrich Fern frond, with the delicate light brown casing carefully removed by the folk who are kind enough to forage for them in the Northeast woods. Clean them very carefully in cold water and then treat them just as you would an asparagus tip or a French bean. They are delicious and sexy and pretty and I love them.

THE BOOKS I HAVE BEEN BOOKING:

Wow, but this blog needs updating.

I can haz book cover for The Gods of Gotham (!).

I can't show it to you yet. I wish I could. It is very sexy and very shiny. But the marketers have to have a meeting to launch it first, and so instead of showing you my book cover, I will cruelly taunt you with the fact that it exists.

It is sexy like this, except that the picture looks really nothing like this, and neither does the font, and I can't wait to show you, and the book is not by Stieg Larsson, it is by ME:

Vegetable Tempura

2011-02-23T13:15:00.001-08:00

INGREDIENTS:

2 12 oz. bottles Pretty Things Hedgerow Bitter

(for the tempura)

10 oz. green beans, trimmed
3 carrots, halved and then sliced into thin, bite-sized sticks
1/2 small head cauliflower, cut into florets

1 egg, beaten
3/4 cup soda water
1/2 cup rice flour and 1/2 cup chickpea flour (you can sub 1 cup cake flour if you like)
1 tsp cornstarch
1/2 tsp garlic powder
1/8 tsp cayenne
salt and fresh black pepper

enough neutral oil (vegetable, sunflower, or corn) to deep-fry

(for the sauce)

1/2 cup soy sauce
1/4 cup cold water
1/8 cup rice vinegar
2 tsp white sugar
salt to taste

1) Blend the sauce ingredients with a fork and set aside.
2) Whisk the soda water into the egg in a medium bowl and put in freezer to chill for 5 minutes. The batter must be kept as cold as possible.
2) Heat your fry oil (we used a cast iron skillet). Your goal is 340-350 degrees, approximately. You can test with a candy thermometer, or by dropping in a "test bean."
3) Stir your dry batter ingredients into the chilled egg and soda--a few lumps are perfectly fine. Return to freezer until your oil is ready.
4) Batter your veggies in small batches with your fingers and drop them into the hot oil, being careful not to overcrowd. We did the carrots, then the beans, then the cauliflower. Each batch needs about 3-4 minutes, until the batter is lightly browned and the veg is cooked. As you take each batch out and set the fried pieces on a paper towel-lined plate, lightly salting them as they're done, return the batter to the freezer and allow the oil to come back up to temperature before continuing.
5) Plate your veg. We served them with toasted sushi rice, but regular rice or a noodle broth would also be lovely.
6) Open Pretty Things Hedgerow Bitter.
7) Enjoy together.

THE BEER:

We've gotten turned onto Pretty Things relatively recently--they're a Massachusetts operation, and we find their work to be pretty damn tasty. Our buddy Kirk (of Amsterdam Ale House and 4th Avenue Pub, among other Elysian watering holes) recently hosted a Pretty Things event in Brooklyn, and we got to chatting with their rep. It turns out that they don't yet have the funds for their own brewing equipment, but would prefer to keep producing contracted brew with their own recipes than invite any investors on board who might have pedestrian beer opinions. This makes them sort of beer vigilantes, which is unquestionably tight.

This is a UK-style pale ale, which isn't an easy thing to pull off to the satisfaction of hophead American beer dork palates without unnecessarily becoming an IPA instead of a classic English bitter ale. And interestingly, not a single American hop varietal is used to brew Hedgerow. The hops in play are Pioneer, First Gold, and Sovereign, which as the brewers acknowledge give an entirely different flavor profile to the bitter grapefruit or piney scent of US hops. According to the makers, these Brit hops "are leafy weeds, very bitter and less aromatic. The overall impression left is a slightly-roasty, special bitter with an aggressive and quite 'wild' bitterness with a substancial (sic) dryness that lends to its drinkablity."

In any event, it's quite a drinkable quaff when paired with food, and there's a clean fresh biscuit aroma to the malts that makes it delightful next to a fried morsel. So fry yourself some morsels and crack a brew. No better way to spend an afternoon.

THE EPIC JANUARY OF EPIC:

WHAT ACTUALLY HAPPENED: I got invested in the Baker Street Irregulars, and my investiture name is Kitty Winter.

[The above announcement was made with--or so I hope--all necessary simplicity, poise, and gravitas, the sort of quiet and staid declarative befitting a person newly invested in a historied literary society, one who knows the value of elegant understatement and gracefully puts that minimalism into best effect.]

MY INNER MONOLOGUE AT THE TIME, AND CONTINUING ON TO THIS DAY: Heavenly-God-Heavenly-God-Heavenly-God-Heavenly-God-Heavenly-God-HEAVENLY-GOD-HEAVENLY-GOD!

Ahem.

I feel moderately justified in assuming that I will be forgiven the above outburst, as I distinctly recall the word "enthusiasm" being a key descriptor of my Sherlockian ethos just before Wiggins (Michael Whelan) gave me a shilling (the symbol of BSI investiture). And believe me, when it comes to Sherlock Holmes, I have the enthusiasm of the Portland Trailblazers outside a medical marijuana clinic. When it comes to Sherlock Holmes, I have the enthusiasm of John Boehner passing a spray-tan salon.

Here you see me pictured in the dress that Susan Dahlinger declared a fashionable inter-species arranged marriage between a parasol and a red velvet cupcake. She didn't seem to think miscegenation of the cupcake/feminine accessory variety in any way troubling, for which I was grateful. More pictures of this dress are probably forthcoming, as it was recently the star of one of our Let's Play Pretty Princess While Drinking Manhattans photo shoots.

I more or less feel as if I won an Academy Award, if the Academy Awards were a clubbable group of erudite people who inexplicably find your presence charming and want to continue chatting with you forever. It's a crazy, crazy thing. To my knowledge, I'm currently the youngest, though not the youngest ever invested by a very long shot. And they even let me in despite the fact I write pastiches, and comic books, and set up shameless games of Pin the Pillow on Robert Downey Jr, and refer to Benedict Timothy Carlton Cumberbatch as:

THE GLORIOUS CUMBERBUNNY

(He's gonna get wind of this title one of these days, I just know it, and then I'll have to face the music. I know how small the hardcore Sherlockian world is. It's not impossible that I might one day be called upon to explain why I think it's okay to affix laperine nicknames to perfectly respectable leading men.)

(Yes, I said laperine.)

(It means "like a bunny.")

(Shut up. Because it's more fun than typing a portmanteau such as "rabbitlike.")

But, I mean to say...look at that. Just...hmm? Who is he? Ah, he's the very talented actor currently playing Sherlock Holmes in BBC's new adaptation Sherlock. You've never--what are you doing reading my blog, then? Go watch BBC Sherlock at once, and try not to overdose by mainlining awesome, or trip over Martin Freeman's Afghan War vet badassery, or pass out at the unprecedented Mycroft levels, or cut yourself on the Cumberbunny's cheekbones.

Seriously, all due caution. They're very sharp.

A SERIOUS MOMENT TO REFLECT UPON BRITISH NAMES:

I could read lists of British names all day. Doubtless, I am the person for whom The Awl posted 68 Fantastic British Names Gathered While Watching BBC Credits Over the Years (and the Glorious Cumberbunny isn't even on it!). But they're really magical, the proper British names. They make everything better. They can make terrible writing vastly entertaining, in fact, which is my secret, in case you were wondering. Watch me type a terrifically dull passage using Brit names picked at random from The Awl's list:

One morning as Fionnula Tambling-Goggin took a turn about her garden, she spied her dear friend Prunella Scales approaching from the lane beyond on the arm of her cousin Mervyn Pinfield, recently arrived from East Kent. It occurred to Fionnula that she ought really to ask Prunella to tea that afternoon, as both Lulu Popplewell and Imogen Millais-Scott had promised attendance, and the two were notoriously set against one another ever since competing for the heart of Nigel Humphreys the year before. It would take more than the giddy invective of Royston Farrell and good old Pip Torrens--himself a cousin of Lulu's, as everyone is getting to be cousins these days--to provide a distraction, and so Fionnula ran to the gate with Prunella's name upon her cherry lips.

See?

That just wouldn't work with Jill, Bob, and Jessica, now would it?

Thai Red Curry Ceviche with Scallops and Mahi Mahi

2010-10-28T16:38:00.000-07:00

(Ok, ok, I know, kids, I just posted a ceviche recipe--but this was really, really, really good. And we didn't write that recipe, and we did write this one. Serves eight.)

INGREDIENTS:

1 lb. very fresh mahi mahi, sliced into bite-sized pieces
1 lb very fresh sea scallops, sliced in thirds

2 tsp. red curry paste
1 fresh shallot, minced
juice from 4 limes
1/3 cup rice wine vinegar
1 tbsp. fish sauce
Couple dashes of salt
2 tsp agave (can adjust sweetness later, when fish is cooked)
1/2 cup coconut milk

1 mango, sliced
fresh cilantro, minced
1 strip skinned red bell pepper
4 tbsp. toasted dry unsweetened coconut flake
about 1/2 cup very finely minced cocktail peanuts
1 small package onion sprouts
salt and pepper to taste

1) Combine the fresh scallops and fish with the red curry, lime juice, shallot, vinegar, fish sauce, salt and agave. Leave in fridge until the fish is nicely cooked but still tender, about 2 hours. Depending on your pieces, you may need slightly longer.
2) When the ceviche comes out of the fridge and the fish is done, drain and reserve the marinade. Add coconut milk to the fish and taste, adding more salt, fish sauce, sugar, or marinade liquid as needed to make it perfect for you.
3) Layer slices of mango on your plates. Layer the fish on top of the mango bed. Spoon a bit of extra sauce over each one. Add a strip of peeled bell pepper over the fish for color.
4) Sprinkle with toasted coconut, peanut dust, fresh cilantro, and onion sprouts. Serve immediately.

BONUS RECIPE: CORN ABSINTHE BISQUE

(I'm posting the recipe for this because it's completely original and frankly was fantastic, really surprisingly good, and it was very simple to make. Our toast foam, as you can see, turned out rather...flaccid. It wasn't required and I'm skipping toast foam instructions until such time as we perfect it. The rest was easy, after all. The only challenging part of it, obviously, is that you need to have absinthe sitting around your house, which OF COURSE we do. If you don't, head to the liquor store and pick up two mini bottles. If you can't find crispy speck, please garnish with crispy bacon or or proscuitto or pancetta, it needs some crunch.)

INGREDIENTS (serves 6 generously):

2 tbsp. butter
6 ears of fresh corn, kernels cut from the husk, husks reserved
1 medium onion, chopped
3 medium ribs celery, chopped
2 garlic cloves, chopped
2 bay leaves
2 tsp. powdered coriander
1 tbsp. white flour
1/3 cup of absinthe (other anise flavored liqueur will work in a pinch)
4 quarts vegetable stock
sugar or agave to taste
1/2 cup heavy cream
salt and white pepper to taste

as many speck slices as there are soup eaters, for garnish

1) Melt the butter in a pot and cook the celery, onions, and garlic over medium heat until sweated, about five minutes.
2) Add bay leaves, powdered coriander, and flour. Cook to toast dry elements, about two minutes.
3) Add the absinthe into the pot and use it to scrape up any bits. When that's done, incorporate the stock and put the corn husks in the pot as well. Bring to a good simmer, making sure the liquid is just covering the husks and the chopped vegetables. Cover, lower heat, and cook for fifteen minutes.
4) With a pair of tongs, remove corn husks. Add fresh corn and bring back to a simmer. Cover and cook for ten to fifteen more minutes, until the corn kernels are sweet, bright, and tender.
5) Discard bay leaves. Transfer the contents of the pot to a blender in as many batches as you like and blend very finely, pouring the smooth puree back into the pot.
6) Get a fine mesh strainer and a large bowl and strain your soup into the bowl, using the back of a spatula to scrape the liquid down.
7) Add cream, sugar, and salt and white pepper to taste. Because absinthe is made with some bitter as well as sweet herbs, adjustment might take a few minutes, but it's worth it.
8) If using crispy speck garnish, heat a heavy-bottomed skillet and place speck slices in it one at a time, weighting them down with the flat, heavy back of another pot, or a metal spatula if you prefer. Flip after about 2 minutes and remove when crisp. Serve immediately--if not, then wait to add the cream.

THE TASTING MENU:

We had a tasting menu!

(Translation: we committed an act of hubris such as has never before been seen on the premises.)

I mean, really, that could have gone so south so fast. But it didn't. It was...well. It was, depending on just how I'm thinking of it moment to moment:

glorious
exhausting
fabulous
hilarious
foolish
tasty
hardcore awesome
some right jiggy shit
lip-smacking
nipple-perking
jeans-shrinking
coma-inducing

Gabe and I started cooking about five days before so as to have a handle on it. First, we made chive oil and red pepper oil, because stuff garnished with home-made infused oil is spiffy theoretically, yes? Pretty colors? I know, I'm mentally about six. Next we revved up the ice cream maker and covered the herbes de Provence sorbet and brown butter ice cream. As it happens, brown butter ice cream is insane, tasting as advertised exactly like butter with being ridiculously fluffy. There are three containers of it in my freezer. Following that, we confited the lamb rack and left it to sit in duck fat for a few days.*

(*I don't know of anything on earth that isn't better off for sitting in a tub of duck fat for a few days, apart from maybe salad, cellular phones, and perhaps sushi. But everything else pretty much qualifies as needing a duck fat soak, yes? I'm betting you that if you submerged me in duck fat for a week, I'd come out looking like a million bucks. There is a kitten on my lap, and she claims to want to be soaked in duck fat too. So there you are.)

Next real phase was the Saturday all-day cookoff, when we made every single thing we could think of that didn't have to be prepped day-of. As usual, that paid off like New York real estate. I don't think we could have managed this without lunatic levels of prep. I like, made a flow chart. I'm serious. I made grids. I made checklists. I made the counter guy at Eataly laugh when I said with a cracked grin on my face that I wanted a bunny so I could cook him. Then I made rabbit carnitas.

I'm still recovering and so is Gabe, because it was very much fifty-fifty on the workload. Gabe said to me rather memorably, "What would it cost to write this menu and then just pay prep cooks to come in and make it like they do in real restaurants?" So much food. So very, very many different comestibles. Really, the mere thought of food just at the moment is something rather less than desirable. So far today I've had a slice of bread pudding and a quarter of a sandwich, and that's looking like enough until tomorrow.

(I blame this in part on my awesome friend Marjie, who was in town for the two days after the tasting menu in a very small window of time, and induced me to eat fried Snickers, haggis, Grimaldi's pizza, twice-fried Thai pork, egg in a blanket, and finally a dinner at BLT Steak that dealt the final spine-ripped blow to my already beaten and hemorrhaging metabolism. I love you, Marjie. I take full responsibility for my new diabetes.)

But before the details fade entirely, I hereby present for your viewing and possibly even your pleasure:

THE OCTOBER 24TH TASTING MENU CHEZ LEHNER
(matched wine pairings by guest artists, as named; photos by Melinda Caric)

~ AMUSE BOUCHE ~
rabbit liver mouse, moonshine bloody mary deviled quail eggs,
garden green tomato chuney crostini, house pickled pearl onions

pairing: cactus fruit and Campari aperitif, by Gabriel

~ COURSE ONE ~
thai red curry ceviche with mahi mahi, sea scallops,
mango, toasted coconut, onion sprouts, and peanut dust

pairing: Domaine Gerard Millet Sancerre, 2009, by Luis and Allison

~ COURSE TWO ~
corn absinthe bisque with chive oil, crispy speck, and toast foam

pairing: Matthiasson Napa Valley White Wine, 2006, by Melinda

~ COURSE THREE ~
filet mignon and cucumber carpaccio with sesame-yogurt dressing and red pepper oil

pairing: Trimbach Riesling, 2008, Yann and Keegan

~ COURSE FOUR ~
butter poached lobster tail with spaetzel, seared broccolini, and apple cider vinaigrette

pairing: Heiligenstein Gruner Veltliner, 2008, Yann and Keegan

~ COURSE FIVE ~
rabbit carnitas with carrot mint puree, fresh mustard greens salad, and fried tortilla

pairing: Chateau La Fleur des Rouzes Pomerol, 2004, Luis and Allison

~ COURSE SIX ~
lamb rack confit, arugula asiago bread pudding,
baby Brussels sprouts, red wine chanterelle reduction

pairing: Dyer Cabernet Sauvignon, 2004, Gabe and Lyndsay

~ COURSE SEVEN ~
herbes de Provence sorbet, fresh figs, lavender shortbread

Oremus Late Harvest Tokaji, 2005, Luis and Gabe

~ COURSE EIGHT ~
bourbon chocolate cheesecake with pretzel bacon crust,
brown butter ice cream, and house brandied cherries

pairing: Real Companhia Velha Royal Oporto, Tawny 10-year, Mark

Our friends are amazing. They brought amazing wine pairings, came at dirty dishes like spider monkeys, washed off my countertop, and above all were just as wonderfully entertaining as is usual for them. Huge thank yous to the participants, it was totally worth it. And not something I plan to do above once a year. Thanksgiving next, folks, and one hopes we'll say something or other about beer one of these days! Apologies for beer absence, but this was too fun not to post.

NY Times Tuna Ceviche with Yellow Wax Beans

2010-08-26T08:35:00.000-07:00

INGREDIENTS:

for the ceviche (serves four, altered very slightly from here)

1 pound very fresh raw albacore or yellowfin, cut in 1/2 inch dice
1 shallot or small red onion, minced
1 garlic clove, minced or pressed
1 to 2 serrano or jalapeño chiles, spicy as you like it, seeded and minced
1 tbsp. capers, rinsed, drained, and minced
1 ripe medium avocado, cut in small dice
1 small ripe mango, cut in small dice
salt and fresh pepper to taste
1/3 cup fresh lime juice
1/2 extra virgin olive oil
1/2 cup chopped cilantro or to taste
blue corn chips, to serve

1) Prepare the tuna and put it back in the fridge.
2) In a medium bowl, combine the onion, garlic, chile, capers, avocado, mango, salt, pepper and 2 tablespoons of the lime juice. Toss together gently. Add the tuna to the bowl.
3) Stir together the remaining lime juice and the olive oil. Pour over the tuna, and toss the mixture together. Season to taste with salt and pepper.
4) Cover and refrigerate for 15 minutes, stirring gently from time to time.
5) Just before serving, add the cilantro and toss together. Taste and adjust seasonings.
6) Serve with blue corn chips, because they're crunchy and delicious.

for the wax beans (this recipe's mine!)

1/2 pound yellow wax beans, trimmed as you like them
2 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
1 heaping cup of chopped fresh tomatoes (I used mini Romas from my garden, but any will work)
2 tbsp leche de coco
4 scallions, minced fine, white and green parts divided
salt and fresh black pepper

1) Heat your oil in a skillet.
2) Add yellow wax beans, white parts of the scallion, tomatoes and some salt.
3) Cook over medium heat for 8-10 minutes (the beans should be crisp-tender, and the tomatoes should be forming a glaze). If your pan gets too dry, add a little white wine or chicken stock.
4) Add the leche de coco. (I have some just sitting in my freezer, and it is super useful. Importantly, we're not using coconut milk here--no, no. We're using that sugary stuff people make pina coladas out of, but this is way better.)
5) Salt and pepper to taste. All the acidity in the tomatoes should be tempered and heightened by the leche de coco, but if you want to adjust the amount of that too and make it sweeter, go right ahead.
6) Sprinkle with green parts of the scallions.
7) Eat it up. This is so simple and delicious, I can't even tell you.

for the beer

22 oz. of Pelican Brewery's India Pelican Ale

1) Open Pelican IPA. Serve with this food.

THE BEER:

We went back to the Pacific Northwest on a very rushed but awesome-packed trip and spent two nights camping near Lincoln City on the Oregon Coast. And one of the rugged, majestic, wild, magnificent natural beauties of the Oregon Coast is its frickken awesome beer.

Sometimes it's worth it in life to take a detour. Gabe and I and Cousin Brad took one to Pacific City, in the opposite direction we were meant to be driving, to drink some beer. Now, this might have been construed as rather unforgivable on our part, but we're Red Commies deep down and picked up extra to take back to the campsite with us. It's impressive how fast people are willing to forgive you when you're handing them beer.

You're going to notice the fabulous frothy head on this brew right off the bat. Sniff it. Go on, put your nose right in there. It's like putting your head in a pine tree while smoking a marijuana cigarette. Citrus hops are present, also floral hops--basically, if you can think of a hop profile, you'll find it. Malts for this one are the silent partner, a quiet backbone leaning towards caramel. Essentially, if you are like me, and you like the idea of drinking a beer that tastes like pine resin and grapefruit juice shaken and poured from a jar, then buy a 22 of this beer INSTANTLY. Pair it with a strong, aggressive seafood, like this ceviche. Then cry when you've eaten it all up.

THE BEST TGI FRIDAY'S STORY EVER TO HAPPEN IN THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD:

I used to work at TGI Friday's.

According to Wikipedia, "Friday's has a large menu with an emphasis on alcoholic beverages."

That's true.

Everything in Office Space is also true.

Anyway, anyone who ever worked for Friday's, and we walk among you, has a Best Friday's Story. I worked there for a long-ass time, so mine are epic. They generally involved pranks, pranks played on both people we liked and people we didn't like one bit, pranks perpetrated and conceived by myself, Gabe, and Luis Nunez, pranks which included but were not limited to:

1) Meticulously put clear plastic over the tops of martini glasses and then trim the edges with a razor so the plastic is invisible. Hang martini glass with the others. Wait.

(delight and surprise index rating: 6)

2) Tell your trainee that he needs to "empty out the old hot water" at the beverage station, and see how many pitchers he fills.

(delight and surprise index rating: 3)

3) Take a clean towel, get it damp, flour it thoroughly. Fry the towel. Make sure the towel is nicely browned. Put it on ciabatta bread with mayo and lettuce and tomato and such, and garnish with fries. Give someone you don't like a "free fried chicken sandwich." Wait.

(delight and surprise index rating: 8)

4) Tie all the beer bottles in the beer fridge together with clear fishing line. Wait.

(delight and surprise index rating: 6)

5) Take all the salad and all the shelves out of the little salad fridge. Put on a coat. Hide in the salad fridge (pick the smallest person--that happened to be me, in our case). Send your manager to make you an emergency salad. Come at him like a crazed spider monkey when he opens the door. Watch him land in the dish station.

(delight and surprise index rating: 9)

Aaaannnnnyway.

I went to meet up with my friend Melinda the other day, and by the time I got there, she had made new friends. We ended up all going for dessert. These new friends happened to be very cool restaurant people who will remain anonymous because this story is made of awesome with awesome killer fire sauce on top.

(DEAR TGI FRIDAY'S: THIS IS HEARSAY. LEGEND. DON'T SUE ME. BUT I USED TO WORK THERE AND BOY DO I EVER BELIEVE IT.)

One of the gents, long ago, worked at Friday's. He came in to work one morning at around eleven to see the head line cook--big African American gent, very reliably steady and together--throwing up violently in the corner. The general manager, far from looking pissed because the guy was hung over, looked deeply concerned and was trying to comfort him. The cook, meanwhile, was inconsolable, even after his stomach was empty of breakfast.

Here's why.

It seems that he had opened a bag of flour and a rat had stowed away there. It was probably a young and small rat, not very noticeable, and the flour bag had been packaged by machine, and when the rat got hungry, it ate some flour and then took a nap. Problem solved. In any case, the cook had a rat jump out at him when he tore the top open, which would have ruined anyone's morning already.

But the rat freaked out and leaped and ran across the grill.

tsssst--tsssst--tsssst--tsssst--tsssst

The rat didn't like the grill. So the rat leaped again.

Into the fryer.

Rats, apparently, have a great deal of moisture in their bodies. So in the hot fry oil, it...'ploded, as it were. Inside-out fried crispy rat within seconds.

And a sad, sad cook for the rest of the day.

LYNDSAY: So did you guys change the fry oil?
MAN WHO WILL REMAIN ANONYMOUS: I honestly don't know.

Best. Friday's Story. EVER.

Garden Herb and Tomato Israeli Couscous

2010-08-05T22:43:00.000-07:00

INGREDIENTS:

1 cup Israeli couscous
1 tsp butter
3 garlic cloves, chopped
1 tsp. turmeric
1/2 tsp. allspice
1/2 tsp. cumin
a couple dashes of red pepper flake
3-5 dried curry leaves
1 2/3 cups vegetable stock

as many garden tomatoes as you like
dash of extra virgin olive oil
dash of tarragon vinegar
1 can of pink beans or roman/kidney beans or chickpeas
1 cup minced Italian flat leaf parsley
1 sprig fresh oregano, minced
2/3 cup diced chives
salt and fresh pepper to taste

1 bottle Green Flash Hop Head Red

1) Melt the butter over medium heat until foaming subsides.
2) Add couscous with the chopped garlic and stir to toast, about three or four minutes--you want the pasta beginning to be golden and fragrant, and the garlic to be cooked. When the couscous smells nice and browned, add all the dry spices including the curry leaves. Toast these as well, 30 seconds or so.
3) Add the vegetable stock. Bring to a steady boil. Cover lid. Turn heat to low.
4) After about eight minutes, remove lid, stir, and turn off heat. Then replace lid and let it sit for another 5 minutes or so. You don't want mushy couscous, just cooked through couscous.
5) Meanwhile, chop your garden tomatoes, mince your parsley, rinse your beans, la la la. Put it all in a bowl with your fresh herbs. Sprinkle this with olive oil, tarragon vinegar, salt, and black pepper.
6) Fluff your couscous again. Stir it in the mix. Season again, to taste.
7) Open bottle of Green Flash Hop Head Red.
8) Enjoy together.

THE BEER:

I drank Green Flash Hop Head Red for my birthday. (Photo by Melinda Caric. I'm such a turd, only the couscous photo above is actually mine this time round.)

I turned 30, kids. WHEEE! More on the later, MUCH more on that in a sec here, settle yourselves. Ok, so--Green Flash Hop Head Red. I had it at 4th Avenue Pub in Brooklyn, owned by the gentleman scholar Kirk Struble, and it's some pretty divine sh**.

It's a tough business making a good red style. (Maybe that's why Green Flash claims this beer is, alternatively, an American amber/IPA hybrid. But boy, is it ever red. And this is a grand red. It's resinous, it's bright copper, it's sticky, it's red-grapefruit-tastic, it's bright, it's sweet, it's balanced, it's wonderful. You're going to get a vague note of cinnamon within the slightly burnt-sugar sweetness, and the bitterness continues all the way through to a very pleasant landing so far as mouthfeel goes. A delightful brew. And I drank it on my birthday.

THE EXCUSE:

Beer is practically a stranger to food at this point. I'm very sorry for this. It's my fault. I've been writing this new book, see. And a Sherlock Holmes comic series for Moonstone Books. So beer forgot about food and wandered off to be alone for a while, take a little "me" time. Not to mention, Gabe has been working two jobs with one day off. And the day Gabriel turns to me--with one day off per week--and says, "You know what I really feel like doing today, Lynds? Let's blog." That will be the day...nope. That day doesn't seem too close on the horizon line.

THE BIRTHDAY:

It was my thirtieth birthday the other day. We played in the city the night before, and then went up the Hudson to Blue Hill at Stone Barns, and the next day reveled at 4th Pub in Brooklyn. It was epic.

Meanwhile, I have carpal tunnel pretty bad. It's getting better with the wrist braces, but I'm writing too much for it not to flare up quite often. It's slightly embarrassing, actually. This...impediment. Also my hair turned white, and I have the gout, and lost all my teeth. I'm gonna fall out of bed and break my hip tomorrow, maybe, for variety. Nothing like nerve injuries to really ring in a new decade.

I had a great time with my friends, though. They're swell people, all of them absolutely top notch, and I had a pretty birthday dress. Pretty birthday dresses are very important to me, and I'm not ashamed to admit it. Also I was wearing my nicely-wrapped-package-necklace. Shown above. Les Klinger says it makes me look like a birthday gift. APPROPRIATE.

THE DINNER:

Blue Hill at Stone Barns is AMAZING.

We had, for my birthday, in the company of the ever-wonderful Luis and Allison:

AMUSE BOUCHE COURSES:

fried baby corn "corn dogs"
individual mini roasted tomato and goat cheese burgers
fresh garden produce on little pins dressed in a vinaigrette (tomato version pictured above, from their website, that's not mine)
fried yellow wax beans
sesame crusted squash
3 charcuterie meats with a liver mousse sandwiched in dark salted chocolate

FIRST COURSE:

bluefin crudo with caviar, green tomato, and pig's ear vinaigrette

SECOND COURSE:

18-hour charcoal barbecued heirloom onion with olive tapenade, onion creme fraiche, vegetable puree, and preserved blueberry

THIRD COURSE:

baked curried egg with fresh beans under herbed rice paper

FOURTH COURSE:

gnocchi with chicken mushrooms

BREAD:

fresh baked sourdough with three infused salts: shittake salt, tomato salt, red pepper salt

FIFTH COURSE:

pork chin, snout, jowl, and loin with avocado and heirloom grains

SIXTH COURSE:

ribeye with smoked eggplant and purslane

TWO DESSERT COURSES (NUMBERS SEVEN AND EIGHT) PLUS EXTRAS:

apricot in elderflower tapioca with yogurt sorbet
cornbread with raspberries and peaches
flax brownie with preserved fruit
wild strawberries
chocolate dusted almonds
meringue with raspberries

What a way to turn 30, kids. I am one lucky little skunk. The picture below isn't mine either, but I wanted to show you Blue Hill. It's breathtaking.

Two (Die-for! Ha!) Steak Side Dishes

2010-04-22T22:07:00.001-07:00

INGREDIENTS (both serve 4, and ideally would go best with a dark meat of some kind for the main event, such as steak or lamb):

(for the MAITAKE MUSHROOMS WITH FIDDLEHEAD FERNS--one of the best seasonal spring dishes I've ever put in my face)

1/2 pound fiddlehead fern fronds, brown stems trimmed and carefully cleaned of grit
1/2 pound maitake (also called hen-of-the-woods) mushrooms, brushed clean and separated into generous 3-inch pieces
4 tbsp. butter, divided
3 garlic cloves, minced or pressed
1 medium shallot, sliced thin
salt and fresh black pepper

1) Drop 2 tbsp. of your butter into a hot cast iron over medium-high heat and wait until foaming subsides.
2) Add shallots, garlic, and fiddleheads. Saute for about 4-5 minutes, until the shallots are nicely caramelized and the fiddleheads are bright green.
3) Move the fiddleheads to the side a bit and add your reserved 2 tbsp. butter to the center of the skillet. When foaming subsides, add maitake mushrooms.
4) Season with salt and fresh black pepper. After mushrooms have wilted/browned a bit, about 3 minutes, combine them with the fiddleheads.
5) Adjust seasoning to taste and remove from heat. Serve immediately. The fiddleheads are cooked when they have been sauteed 8-10 minutes and are about the consistency of young asparagus. They should look pretty much like the above picture. Be careful to heat them past their crunch, as bacteria have been known to hide in the little heads and you should cook them thoroughly. It's a rare problem, but might as well be safe, yes?

(for the BLT STEAK POPOVERS; original recipe by Laurent Tourondel uses gruyere, but hey, we didn't have gruyere)

two cups milk, gently warmed
4 eggs
2 cups flour
3/4 tbsp salt
1 generous cup grated sharp cheddar cheese
popover pan

1) Place the popover pan in the oven, heating oven and pan to 350 degrees.
2) Whisk the eggs until frothy and then slowly whisk in the milk (so as not to cook the eggs). Set mixture aside.
3) Sift the flour with the salt. Slowly add this dry mixture and gently combine until mostly smooth.
4) Once combined, remove the popover pan from the oven and spray with non-stick vegetable or olive oil spray. While the batter is still warm/room temperature, fill each popover cup 3/4 full. Top each popover with 2-3 tbsp cheese (we used cheddar; Chef Laurent uses gruyere).
5) Bake at 350 degrees for 50 minutes, rotating pan half a turn after 15 minutes of baking. Remove from oven, remove from pan, and serve immediately.

(further dinner instructions)

1) Cook a steak or else a lamb chop just the way you like it. Serve with these sides.
2) Open a bottle of Tröegs Nugget Nectar.
3) Enjoy together.

THE BEER:

I've been on an American craft- and microbrew beer tasting kick of late because Gabe has a new job. Plus his old job. He still works at Woo Lae Oak, but he's also now employed by the lovely folks who run Bar Carrera on Houston and MacDougal, and they have just opened a fabulous new location called Custom American Wine Bar in Williamsburg. They worked with Gabe to write the new hangout's beer list, which brings us to...

Tröegs.

Tröegs is a team of two brothers by the name of Chris and John Trogner who brew in central Pennsylvania and make things that tend to be completely delicious. They explain their brewery's name in this manner:

TRÖEGS (tr?gs) *v-tröeged, -tröeg'in The act of tröeg'in, ie "I tröeged it" or {slang} "that boy is tröeg'in" -adj. An aura of complete enjoyment and contentment, ie "My you look Tröegy this morning."

I hesitate to either question or believe their regionalisms, but holy crap nuggets, the Nugget Nectar is fantastic. (To be fair, their other style are also excellent, as I don't want to give the impression that you should be stocking up on Nugget and skip the JavaHead Stout or the Sunshine Pils, to name two...) Nugget Nectar is an Imperial Amber Ale made with classic European malts that is blown through the roof by way of Nugget, Warrior, Tomahawk, and other hardcore hops. 7.5 % ABV, IBUs guessed to be "93ish" by the brewers. I don't know that many other Imperial Ambers can hold a candle to this orange-hued cup of piney goodness, but you're welcome to buy me as many as you like to prove me wrong. The nose hints at biscuits from the Munich malts but is dominated by elegant floral hops and caramelized orange peel. So go ahead and taste it.

Smoother than you expected, yes? Creamier? With a lingering sweetness? Nothing a bit overpowering and everything neatly lined up like an OCD's medicine cabinet?

Go buy this beer right now, it's seasonal. Then eat it with STEAK and STEAK SIDE DISHES. You will not be sorry. If you are, call me, and I'll finish the bottle.

THE GARDEN:

My friend Dahlinger mentioned gardening today, so I'm going to rant about it here for a minute. I love my garden like I love secondhand designer dresses, and the garden this year is--largely--no longer a seething hotbed of Jacobean political intrigue. It has its quirks, to be sure, and abandoned animals, and the odd crackhead who takes up half an hour or so of my time on any given Thursday May 20th yesterday in mid-afternoon when I wanted to be watering the shoots and the leaves. But that's pretty much every space in New York, so why quibble.

And anyway, I'd imagine we'll do a redux of the EXTREME SUMMER GARDEN series on this blog, so some context is good. This is my garden plot midsummer last year, and here's my opinion of what to put in a garden bed with limited space.

HERBS, and reasons to plant them: herbs are so expensive at the grocery store that sometimes I'd like to ask them what just a couple of basil leaves instead of the whole bunch costs. And they have a very short fridge life, which is maddening. Here's my inner monologue some mornings:

(warning: this is a perhaps mentally stultifying example of just how boring my inner monologue can be--proceed with caution...)

ME: Hungry. Not many options in fridge. I have plenty of noodles in the pantry. Hey, I could put that basil on them and some frozen peas. (opens fridge, finds that basil is brown when it wasn't yesterday) S** of a bitch, ten-dollar-basil!!! My nemesis. My love.

Something like that. Plant herbs, and plenty of them. Then when you want two parsley sprigs, go pick two parsley sprigs. Problem solved. I have this year (this is my 2010 garden during last month's rainy spell):

Italian sweet basil
Mexican cinnamon basil
Thai basil
Wild arugula (the crazy patch in the upper right)
Chives
Oregano
Rosemary
Jamaican thyme
English thyme
Lemon thyme
Sage
Tarragon
Mint
Chocolate mint

VEG, accompanied by veggie warnings: everybody likes a nice zucchini frittata, or a yellow squash soup, right?

STOP. RIGHT. THERE.

If you have an estate, plant squash. If you have your own island, plant squash. If you live in Dakota Territory and the nearest town ain't got no law to speak of and the last neighbor you had was a fur trapper who was gone the next morning and you tend to "disrecollect" things instead of forgetting them, plant squash. If you have a plot, like I do, then don't, unless your car runs on zucchini bread instead of gasoline. The yield is terrific, the space expended monstrous.

Caution: the byword of the man who encounters a pumpkin seed.

In my opinion, you want to plant things that either 1) cost less to grow yourself; 2) look too cool to pass up, or; 3) need to ripen on the vine to taste good. This means you will probably be planting tomatoes. Several kinds, preferably heirloom. It means you really ought to plant lettuce heads, because you can pluck the nicest leaves off for your fresh-from-the-elements salad and your plant will keep growing.

I have this season (we skipped the peppers we did last year only because they're so cheap in my hood):

"Pink lettucy mustard" (pictured--it's a hybrid green, and is fantastic raw in salads)
Red leaf lettuce
Romaine
Yellow tomatoes
Little tomatoes I forget what kind
Big tomatoes I forget what kind
Purple broccoli
Red Falstaff Brussels sprouts

So that's the size of it, folks. I'm in favor of things that make it easier to cook dinner, essentially, when you're planting your garden. I'll be doing plenty more garden updates as the weather finally improves and the flora starts fawning at the sunshine, so stay tuned and eat well in the meantime.

Lemon-Thyme Olive Oil Cupcakes with Balsamic Glaze

2010-04-22T17:55:00.000-07:00

INGREDIENTS:

(for the Lemon-Thyme Cake--this recipe was lovingly stolen and marginally simplified from a very pretty blog called The Cupcake Project)

*Makes 12 cupcakes. I couldn't find the cupcake paper, so this looks like a muffin. Shut up, shut up, it's a cupcake.

2 cups all-purpose flour
1 1/2 tsp. baking powder
pinch of salt
1 cup granulated sugar
2/3 cup extra virgin olive oil (not regular olive oil--use a nice, grassy extra virgin)
1 tbsp. lemon zest
3 large eggs
1/2 cup lemon juice
2 tbsp. finely chopped fresh thyme

1) Sift together flour, baking powder, and salt in a large bowl.
2) In a second mixing bowl, combine sugar and lemon zest. Add olive oil slowly and mix on high speed until completely combined.
3) Beat in the eggs singly, mixing well after each addition.
4) Add 1/2 the flour mixture, combining well.
5) Add the lemon juice, combining well.
6) Add remainder of the flour. Beat until smooth.
7) Stir in the thyme.
8) Fill cupcake liners or muffin tins.
9) Bake at 375 degrees for twenty minutes or until cupcakes bounce back when touched.

(for the Balsamic Glaze, which is MINE, baby!)

1/2 cup granulated or superfine sugar
1/2 cup balsamic vinegar
a touch of fresh ground black pepper

1) Heat the sugar and balsamic vinegar in a small candy saucepan over medium heat until sugar dissolves.
2) Stirring constantly, continue to reduce the mixture until it thickens to a syrup--about 5 minutes.
3) Remove from heat. Working before the glaze cools too much, paint your cupcakes with a brush or drizzle over the tops.

(for the beer)

1 Woodchuck Draft Cider Dark & Dry

Open beer.
Enjoy together with lemon thyme cupcakes for your high tea.

THE BEER:

Well, it's not, of course. It's cider.

You absolutely can drink beer with your high tea, and high tea is what I called it every time I ate one of these killer cupcakes. But maybe you want to class it...I dunno, not UP a notch exactly, but class it...laterally. Yes. Have a cider, then.

I have chosen, for educational purposes, to also picture an actual woodchuck here for your edification and amusement. Woodchucks are awesome.

Woodchuck Draft Cider is a Vermont cider company that makes several varieties of tasty quaffables including an Amber, Pear, Raspberry, and Granny Smith. The Dark & Dry is called 802 (for their area code) and is made with deeply caramelized sugar instead of white sugar, which gives it a beautiful rich color and a better depth of flavor. It's still quite sweet, but this is your f***ing high tea, right? You deserve a treat.

THE BAKED GOODS:

I have believed throughout my adult life in the following principles, a simple list of Things Which Best Be Avoided:

Running, unless pursued by bears. (*NOTE: this is a turnaround from when I was little and thought adults were stupid for not running, because running gets you places faster. I also make exceptions for jaywalking across busy intersections and sudden April rainstorms.)

Shorts.

Cockroaches.

Non-alcoholic beer and decaf coffee. Because...why?

Cooking anything I can't taste multiple times throughout the process and thus save from heading over a cliff if it is going in the wrong direction, and thus: all effort to make baked goods.

I really thought that unless you got the exact perfect number of grains of baking powder in a batch of cookies (is there baking powder in cookies? or is that baking soda? what is the difference??? does it matter? I can't stop crying...I can't feel my lips...) then you would end up with an inferior product and people would laugh at you and point and call you Loser McFail-Baker. I thought they would refuse to ever hang out with you again even when you wore really cute glittery pumps and instead they would give you a steely look as if to say, "Your butter was improperly softened. I disdain you." I thought that acquaintances and friends, after sampling tepid, limp biscotti, would erect a sign above my apartment door that read HERE YOU MAY SEE LYNDSAY, WHO FLEW TOO CLOSE TO THE SUN AND MADE ASSY CINNAMON ROLLS.

PICTURED: the haunted visage of a man whose muffins turned out dry.

Actually, it turns out that baking is easy.

This isn't going to prove as big a problem as it could have been because I don't care for sweets particularly (open a bag of potato chips, however, and I will eradicate it for you). But expect to see bakery offerings on Beer Meets Food now! Be afraid. Be very afraid.

Cambodian Glass Noodles

2010-04-19T13:12:00.001-07:00

INGREDIENTS:

*(optional) 6 oz. leftover shredded pork shoulder
6 oz. Thai bean thread or "glass" noodles
1 tbsp. rendered pork or bacon fat (can use olive oil)
1 red onion, sliced thin
1 jalapeno, minced
8 garlic cloves, minced
1/2 tsp. red pepper flake
1/2 tsp. ground white pepper
2 small heads broccoli, stems peeled, chopped
1 egg, beaten and seasoned
salt and fresh black pepper
_______

Sauce:
1 tbsp. sugar or agave
1 tsp. sesame oil
1 tsp. fish sauce
2 tbsp. soy sauce
2 tbsp. oyster sauce

2 fresh chives, minced
a handful of cilantro, minced

Hitachino Nest White Ale

1) Place glass noodles in a mixing bowl and heat enough water (to just below boiling) to cover. Soak noodles (5 minutes is enough).
2) Heat pork fat until smoking in heavy-bottomed pan or cast iron. If using leftover pork shoulder or shredded pork, add meat to crisp.
3) Add to the pan minced jalapeno, garlic, red pepper flake, and onion. Saute 2 minutes.
4) Stir in broccoli and ground white pepper. Season cautiously with salt and black pepper and pan-fry 3 more minutes over high heat.
5) Move the contents of the pan to one side. If empty side is dry, add a touch of oil. Fry the beaten egg, then mix all together.
6) Add sauce to pan and scrape any fond off the bottom. (If at any point during this recipe something is burning or sticking, feel free to splash in a little chicken stock, water, or soy sauce--just be careful not to oversalt.)
7) Your noodles should be quite soft. Snip them with kitchen scissors in the bowl until they're a nice bite-sized length. Drain and add to pan, turning off heat.
8) Stir the noodles into the stir-fried veggies and pork, adding your chopped herbs. Check seasoning and adjust with sugar, salt, or fish sauce if necessary.
9) Open Hitachino Nest White Ale.
10) Enjoy together.

THE BEER:

We've sorta sorely neglected to talk abut Asian beers on this blog, which is a shame. Gabe is the mixologist at Woo Lae Oak, and thus has a hand in picking which beers go on the list there, and Hitachino Nest White is one of them, because people should only drink beers that are awesome and Hitachino Nest White Ale is made of awesome and drinks like liquid awesome.

(Brief anecdote: I don't recall precisely what the beer list was at "the Woo" before Gabe and his GM Dan sat down and did an Awesomeness Enhancement, but it looked pretty much like this: Kirin. Kirin Light. OB. Sapporo. Heineken. Corona Light. Water With Beer Flavor Additives. Water With Beer Flavor Additives Light.)

This is a mean pairing with glass noodles. Hitachino White is a chilled-out Witbier at 5% alcohol, brewed in Japan, a lovely pale golden cloudy color. It has a delicate but vibrant nose on it. Super floral and ginger and cloves and citrus, lemon edges, a faint whiff of yeast. Sip it. It's incredibly complex for a Witbier style, with a Granny Smith tang at the front of the tongue and a depth of bittering balance that you don't often find with brews of this sort, which can lean toward banana and bubble gum pretty easily. This doesn't--it's a medley ofIndian spices with a backbone of lemon and bread. Outstanding. Drink it with glass noodles.

THE NOODLES:

Photo caption: Lyndsay Pairs Beer with Food in Asia.

By the way, if you were ever to stop by Woo Lae Oak, you'd do well by yourself ordering the glass noodles and a Hitachino Nest White. Korean glass noodles are called Jap Chae and are made out of sweet potato instead of mung bean like the Thai/Cambodian variety I used here.

So this dish is inspired by my hometown dining experiences. There are not a lot of exotic places to eat on Longview, Washington. One might even be tempted to say boldly, ON THE CONTRARY! and drive to Portland, OR or Seattle, WA, which both have absolutely killer restaurants. But in Longview itself, unless what you want is some outrageously good Mexican food, ethnic dining is pretty much confined to Hart-C's Thai-Chinese Food and Steak Burger.

Yep. Great name. This from the town that also brought you Cleopatra's Grizzly Bear Casino.

Anyway, #58 is a dish called Glass Noodles with Pork and Eggs. The nifty trick about the Thai plates at Hart-C's is that the family that owns Hart-C's (I went to high school with their kids) isn't Thai. They're Cambodian. The food is similar to Thai, but I've never had another glass noodle dish in a genuinely Thai restaurant precisely like this one. Hart-C's is bloody delicious (they have an out of this world black pepper and garlic fried beef), so as a tribute to them I tried to recreate their glass noodles with some leftover pork. I'm pretty stoked by the results, and it's considerably cheaper than a plane flight.

I took a cooking class in Thailand, when we were in Chiang Mai. I could cook Thai food every day. So tasty. So healthy. So good with BEER.

Fish Pie

2010-03-05T23:12:00.000-08:00

INGREDIENTS:

We cheated. We used a recipe, almost exactly. I am in love with Jamie Oliver's notions of cooking. This is not original, though we made alterations.

But god, look at it.

Jamie's glorious fish pie recipe is here.

We made a few changes, of course.

1) Add leeks with the onion and carrot. Please add leeks. A big one, or two little ones. They're fan-bloody-tastic.
2) You don't really need that much heavy cream. By all means, use it if you like. But you can also sub milk (I think all we had was milk), or just reduce the amount. Trust me, with the cheddar, it's already very rich and creamy.
3) We de-glazed the onion and carrot saute with 1/2 cup of white wine. It was DELICIOUS.
4) We threw in raw shrimp, cleaned, tails off, halved lengthwise, with the raw fish.
5) The eggs are probably stellar, but we skipped them.
6) Open a bottle of Samuel Smith's Nut Brown Ale.
7) Enjoy together.

THE BEER:

Classic British brews are endlessly satisfying. They're balanced with the benefit of hundreds of years of expertise, and--while you can probably drink any beer with a fish pie--this one is a particularly nice choice. According to my eminently reliable sources (the generous strangers who have nothing better to do than to improve Wikipedia):

"The Old Brewery at Tadcaster was founded in 1758 and bears the name of famous local brewer Samuel Smith. It is both the oldest brewery in Yorkshire and the only surviving independent brewery in Tadcaster."

Try to think of a cooler name than Tadcaster. You'll find you can't.

Now, go get knocked up and name your infant child Tadcaster. Girl or boy, it won't matter. In either case, he or she will be welcomed as a liberator if not hailed as a god.

This beer tastes like drinking a pecan pie, in a good way. In a BEER way. It's so rich, so toasty, so malty, so balanced, so butterscotch and milk chocolate and almonds and dark fruit and warm earth, without ever being literally sweet, you want another one right away. Along with another scoop of fish pie.

THE SONG:

Gabe and I both remember snatches of this song from our childhood. I went ahead and looked it up for this post, and was shocked to discover that it was actually released the year I was born (1980, kiddos). I admit freely, very little time passed as we assembled this recipe when we were NOT singing this song by Barnes and Barnes (you'll notice that the chorus is repeated frequently--because we couldn't recall the real words, that's pretty much all we sang):

Fish heads, fish heads, rolly polly fish heads
Fish heads, fish heads, eat them up
Yumm!

Fish heads, fish heads, rolly polly fish heads
Fish heads, fish heads, eat them up
Yumm!

In the morning, laughing happy fish heads
In the evening, floating in the soup

Fish heads, fish heads, rolly polly fish heads
Fish heads, fish heads, eat them up
Yumm!

Ask a fish head anything you want to
They won't answer, they cant talk

Fish heads, fish heads, rolly polly fish heads
Fish heads, fish heads, eat them up
Yumm!

I took a fish head out to see a movie,
Didn't have to pay to get it in

Fish heads, fish heads, rolly polly fish heads
Fish heads, fish heads, eat them up
Yumm!

They can't play baseball, they don't wear sweaters
They're not good dancers, they don't play drums

Fish heads, fish heads, rolly polly fish heads
Fish heads, fish heads, eat them up
Yumm!

Eat your fish pie. The end.

White Chicken Chili

2010-02-13T10:22:00.000-08:00

INGREDIENTS:

1/2 pound dry white cannellini or Great Northern beans, soaked 4-6 hours in unsalted water until plump
1 andouille sausage link, casing removed
2 chicken breasts
1 large white onion, chopped
1 green bell pepper, minced
8 cloves garlic, minced or pressed
2 jalepenos, minced
3 celery stalks, chopped
1 tbsp. chili powder
1 tbsp. cumin
2 bay leaves
1 tsp. dried thyme
2 tsp. dried oregano
dash of cayenne (optional)
1 4-oz can roasted Hatch chilis (mild or fiery)
1 7-oz. can salsa verde (we use Herdez)
3 pints chicken stock
1 small container plain yogurt
plenty of queso fresco, fresh chives, and chopped cilantro, to serve
1 bottle of Paulaner Salvator Doppelbock (to drink!)

1) In a big heavy-bottomed pot, cook the andouille sausage until it releases its fat and browns, about 5 minutes over medium-high heat. If there doesn't seem to be enough fat in the pan to saute the veg, add a little olive oil.
2) Add onion, bell pepper, garlic, jalapeno, and celery. Sweat for 5 minutes.
3) Add dry spices and dry herbs. Toast for 2 minutes.
4) Stir in Hatch chilis, salsa verde, chicken stock, and white beans. Cover and reduce to a simmer. Cook about 40 minutes, until beans begin to soften.
5) Place chicken breast in pot, submerged in broth. Cook through, about 20 minutes.
6) Remove chicken breasts from liquid with tongs and shred with a fork. Return meat to the pot. Test the beans; if still firm, cook a bit longer.
7) When beans are finished, stir in plain yogurt and season to taste. Garnish with chives, cilantro, and fresh white Mexican cheese.
8) Open Paulaner Salvator. Enjoy together.

THE BEER:

Let's chat about Germans for a second. Germans are awesome in several ways. First--and this is truly important to me--they are completely, utterly unafraid of moustaches. More on moustaches later. Believe me, we are going to cover the topic of moustaches. But the second thing Fritz and Hans are entirely unafraid of is beer, and drinking it out of glassware with the liquid scope of a horse trough.

The doppelbock style was invented by monks. That's because, back when water was filthy, the Church decided that the best way of purifying it was to make a kajillion different varieties of beer, thus proving that sometimes even something as questionable as all-powerful Catholicism can produce good in the world. Most doppelbocks are dark and fairly rich, with a nice creamy head to them. They are not hop-forward, in fact are often quite mild and sweet, preferring to explore varieties of toasted malt complexity.

Paulaner is a monk founded brewery itself, and has been actively brewing for the monks' consumption (and other lucky people's, of course) since 1634. It could be argued that they know what they're doing by now. Paulaner currently makes fifteen classic varieties of German beer (they also make a non-alcoholic bottle, but I refuse to label that as typically German in any way, shape, or form). Their doppelbock is beautifully dark and caramelized, with tons of toasted sugars and a lingering aftertaste of spicy prunes. Delicious, and great for rounding out a nice bowl of chili.

THE MOUSTACHE:

Gabe has a moustache.

(No. I'm not going to spell it the other way. Don't ask me to spell it like that. People in Williamsburg with pointy elf shoes and Louis Vuitton trucker hats have mustaches. Real men have moustaches.)

I'm emotionally attached to the moustache. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that it's an awesome moustache, and I really like awesome things better than I like lameass things. Or maybe it has something to do with Val Kilmer as Doc Holliday in Tombstone being awesome, or Dr. John H. Watson, M.D. being awesome. I have no idea, but moustaches rule.

People in the United States are rightfully wary of the Moustachioed Man. He has a certain panache in the literal "face" of adversity that other men find enviable and women (the women without moustaches, and even some of the women with moustaches) find epic. The thing is, the moustache can easily go too far, or not far enough, and a powerful moustache is all about balance. You don't want to end up doing what Michael Phelps has recently been accused of.

There are certain moustaches, you see, in the United States in particular, which convey the inevitable impression that you work in the pornography field. Now, this plays on the archetypal paradigm of the Mighty Moustache, no question, but do you really want schoolchildren to see evidence of your involvement in the sex industry on your face?

No.

And that is what Michael Phelps has done here. Granted, he is an Olympic Gold Medal-winning professional athlete. And not the sort who goes to cheap suburban hotels in LA with film crews to take off his trousers and lay pipe like a contractor. Or not from what I've read about him, at any rate. It's nowhere in his Wikipedia bio.

The problem is, you would never know it from this moustache. He's famous, so his profession is going to be clearer to everyone than the average Joe's. But moustaches speak, and Michael Phelps's moustache is saying, "I'm here to fix your cable. Can I take my shirt off?" Yes, Michael Phelps, you can take your shirt off, because your torso looks like the Google Earth terrain map of the Appalachian Trail. But expect bright lights and girls named Taffy to want to get involved.

The Germans, on the other hand, have taken moustachular expressionism to new heights.

Here we have an example of another way that a moustache can get out of balance. A moustache, I believe, is exactly like a man's car: if you see a man, and he's car-less--you know, walks, bikes, takes the subway--you're not ever going to judge his manliness on the basis of his vehicle, obviously. But if a man has a Fiat with the paint peeling off and a CARTER/MONDALE 1976 sticker on the back, you might form some thoughts. If, conversely, you see a guy driving a red 2010 Corvette with a bumpersticker that says MY OTHER CAR IS A JET on it, that guy is going to be conveying a different impression entirely. What I'm saying is, neither of these looks is going to get you laid by any of my friends. If faced with the choice, they'd take the guy with the Fiat in a heartbeat, of course, because that guy is compensating for nothing whatsoever, but it's not ideal.

So then there's this moustache.

It's technically, from what I know of moustache types, the Wingspan Facespanner. Is it awesome? Yes? Is it beautiful? Yes. But so are Corvettes, sort of.

Meanwhile, don't even try to tell me this guy isn't German. This guy MUST be German. There's just no other explanation for his total moustache abandon here. It's a bravery that borders on recklessness. Only the Germans can treat moustaches with such wanton inhibition. This guy's name is Wilhelm Sigisfried Poppycock Krapp VonSchittekatter.

Finally, we have an example of the sort of moustache you want from a fellow. (A fellow who, I must add, just bought a straight razor, and things called boar's bristles and hones and strops and I don't even know what.) This man will rub the hide of a boar over his face and then shave it with a deadly weapon from the 19th century. This moustache commands respect.

Baked Eggs in a Leek Nest with Sourdough

2010-02-12T06:45:00.000-08:00

INGREDIENTS:
(Note: obviously, this recipe is open to endless variation. You could make the base of this dish out of hash browns instead of leeks, maybe baked tomatoes, why not shittakes?, throw some Parmesan or feta on top, whatever you like. Go crazy. Then bake the eggs 8-10 minutes in a 390 degree oven and serve with warm, fresh bread.)

1 massive or two smaller leeks, cleaned thoroughly, halved and then sliced thin (about 5 cups)
4 garlic cloves, minced or pressed
4 eggs
a big handful of fresh parsley and chives, chopped
2 oz. hard Italian-style dried sausage or salami (we used finocchio), minced fine
2 tbsp butter
salt and fresh black pepper
and to serve, sliced fresh sourdough (recipe link and tale follows)

1) Preheat your oven to 390 degrees.
2) Heat the butter in a cast-iron skillet until foamed subsides; brown it if you like. Mmm.
3) Add leeks. Season with salt and pepper and saute about 3 minutes.
4) When leeks have begun to soften, add minced or pressed garlic. Continue to saute, about 3 more minutes, until garlic is toasted and leeks are starting to brown and melt a bit further. Taste to adjust seasoning.
5) With a wooden spoon, make 4 little nests in your leeks. They should *not* expose the cast-iron pan beneath.
6) Add the eggs to your nests, like so. Crack sea salt and pepper over eggs. Add minced hard salami, sprinkling over pan.
7) Bake 8-10 minutes (10 for cooked very nearly through).
8) Dish up the eggs in the nests. Garnish with herbs. Best breakfast ever. Voila.
9) Get yourself a growler of Sixpoint Double Sweet Action from Whole Foods.
10) Enjoy together.

THE BEER:

Oh my lord.

So I joined Twitter about...oh, maybe six months back...because after all it's a free marketing tool and (more convincingly) my friend Leslie Klinger of Annotated Sherlock Holmes fame told me I was ridiculous not to be on a free social media site everyone follows and I should get with the program. (He is right in this evaluation, as he is right to laugh when I put ice in my Maker's.) I joined, and let me tell you, it is a challenge for me to come up with posts that DON'T have to do with food. (My handle is lyndsayfaye, if anyone cares.) My friend Melinda told me that she can't check my Twitter feed without getting hungry. I have reached, meanwhile, some stirring low points in 140-character statements of self. Examples:

...is going to cozy up for some niece and nephew time. I hope there are ninja turtles involved, of the teenage mutant variety.

...is uncannily skilled at forgetting to water Christmas trees. In my living room, in plain view. Thereby killing them.

...has decided that duck ragu=delicious thing to have in fridge. Can you put it in pasta? Check. Risotto? Check. Hash? Check. Soup? Check.

I'm really none too good at it. And I refuse to say things like "...is sitting on the couch watching The L-Word. Shane is hot." What was this section about? Beer, you say? Ah, yes. What does Twitter have to do with beer? Well, kids, I soon discovered after joining Twitter that apart from following interesting people, I can also follow WHOLE FOODS. This was a seminal moment. Because a few days ago, the lads from Sixpoint (best Brooklyn brewery ever) finished a concoction they're calling Double Sweet Action for their fifth anniversary. And with admirable haste, they dispatched it and themselves to the Bowery Whole Foods Beer Room and started passing it around. For free. Free Sixpoint Double Sweet Action. Where did I find this out?

Twitter. That's what a full circle looks like, ladies and gents. We grabbed our coats and flew down to Whole Foods with the swiftness of fleet pumas.

The regular Sixpoint Sweet Action is a supremely highly rated American Blonde Ale. We love it. And so when we asked the brewers what they'd done to make the Double Sweet Action and their answer was "Doubled the malts and doubled the hops," we were very pleased. It tastes more like an IPA than does the original, of course, but the honeyed overtones and the lush tangerine really even out the bitterness. Which makes it a perfect...brunch beer! And it's nine and a half percent alcohol! You'll be out of commission by two in the afternoon. You're welcome. Go get a growler.

THE BREAD:

Gabe made a sourdough starter. Actually, there are two of them, living in the fridge like brothers. I have named them Terwilliger and Newt. One is a wheat starter and the other is a white-flour starter. Now, I don't understand the first thing about baking (you follow rules??), but here's a good discussion of starters and sourdough recipes with pretty pretty pictures of sourdough toast. Gabe followed America's Test Kitchen's recipe here, but unfortunately you need a subscription to access it. The Test Kitchen is rock solid when it comes to baking things, however, and a subscription to their website is hugely worthwhile.

Like I said, I can't bake. Meanwhile, I got to eat it. It was soooo tasty. We had it with white bean chili, and with smoked mackerel, and with jam, and with butter and cracked sea salt, and with olive oil and balsamic. And we weren't sorry.

THE NEWS:

I have a short story in friends Jon Lellenberg's and Dan Stashower's Sherlock Holmes in America anthology called "The Case of Colonel Warburton's Madness." It was a hat trick to write it, because it's an "armchair" mystery: Holmes solves a case presented to him by Watson without ever so much as leaving his chair except to pour a couple glasses of wine for himself and the Doc (hey, it's me writing Holmes here, after all).

Well, the story was just selected for the Best American Mystery Stories 2010 anthology! Huzzah! I am so chuffed over that I can't tolerate myself. Thanks very much to Otto Penzler and Lee Child for picking it. I'm thrilled. And I will probably never manage to pull off writing an "armchair" mystery of any sort ever again.

New Year's Thai Crab Fried Rice

2010-01-17T21:28:00.000-08:00

INGREDIENTS:

1 tbsp. water or fish stock
2 tsp. Thai red curry paste
1 tbsp. soy sauce
1 tsp. fish sauce
1 tsp. honey or agave
about 2 cups cooked (1 cup uncooked, following package directions) of day-old brown rice
2 shallots, minced
6 garlic cloves, pressed or minced
1 inch of ginger, minced
1 medium onion, chopped
2 carrots, minced fine
6 oz. green beans, chopped
8 oz. lump snow crab meat
2 eggs, seasoned and beaten
approx. 4 tbsp. oil (one with a high smoke point), divided
3 green onions, chopped
1/4 cup fresh cilantro, chopped

1 bottle Laurelwood Public House & Brewery's Free Range Red

(Note: if you have a wok, follow the traditional method. We don't, and our cast iron doesn't get hot enough, so we do this in batches instead, so as to get a better texture.)

1) Stir the first five ingredients into a smooth paste. Set aside.
2) In a heavy-bottomed cast iron skillet or equivalent, heat 1 tbsp oil until smoking. Add 1/2 the carrots, onion, and green beans and cook until blistered, about 2-3 minutes. Scrape into bowl.
2) Heat another tbsp. oil and fry the remaining carrot, onion, and green beans. Scrape into same bowl.
3) Add next tbsp of oil. Stir-fry the minced garlic, shallot, and ginger until fragrant and toasted, 1 minute. Add the red curry paste and liquid mixture and toast for 30 seconds.
4) Add rice. Incorporate into sauce (it should have dried up very quickly) and fry, about 3 minutes, with more oil if necessary.
5) Stir vegetables back in with rice, adding the lump crab meat. Move to one side of cast iron and add last tbsp. oil to empty side. Fry the beaten eggs. When cooked, mix all together.
6) Mix in fresh herbs. Season to taste with salt and black or white pepper.
7) Open bottle of Laurelwood's organic Free Range Red Ale.
8) Enjoy together.

THE BEER:

Have we talked about Laurelwood before? I have no idea. Anyway, Laurelwood is three brewpubs, a pizza pub, and an airport bar. Just our size of company. And style too--it's based out of Battle Ground, Washington, and their beers go down real, real easy. It's an open question whether we'd know as much about their beers if the aforementioned airport bar wasn't in the PDX terminal JetBlue usually flies into, which we see at least twice a year, but I'd like to think we still would have found them. And as it is, the meeting was rather magically predestined.

Free Range Red is an organic ale, and Laurelwood owner Mike DeKalb claims that they were the first brewery in Oregon to "brew beers that met the rigorous certified organic standards of Oregon Tilth." Well, I'm not going to lie and say I fact-checked this. What I did do was visit Wikipedia to find out what the hell Oregon Tilth is. Wikipedia claims that Oregon Tilth is a nonprofit membership organization that educates gardeners, farmers, legislators, and the public on how to make better sustainable growing choices and conserve natural resources. But I didn't fact-check the Wikipedia entry either. For all I know, Mike DeKalb is a handgun magnate with a dirty-coal plant he rigged out of harvested elephant ivory to power his breweries. I'm just saying. Not that he is. And for all I know, Oregon Tilth is a grunge rock band who want their name to evoke a combination of filth and the more generalized enigma of the capital letter "T." I mean, maybe the Wikipedia entry is right. But I didn't...never mind.

What I DO know is that the beer is delicious. The Free Range Red is one of their year-round offerings, and it's sort of cheap to pair it with this dish, because you could drink Free Range Red with anything. Any sort of flavorful comfort food would go well with this brew. It's a pretty coral-copper-beige pour with pinker tones in good lights, with a nice smooth head. The toffeeish malts you get in the background are offset and nicely complimented by grapefruit rind and a good, clean acidity. Hops are more prominent than they would be if brewed in any other state, and that's 100% fine by us. All around, a very drinkable beer that also has the advantage of being rigorously organic (unless it's actually produced using babies on treadmills--I didn't fact check, so who can say?).

THE END OF THE DECADE:

I kick myself that I haven't updated this blog for so long, but the end of this year came at me like a lead freight train. First, there was Christmas. Yes, Christmas is all rock and roll and the cappuccino's foam and the best of times, but it also meant rather extensive cooking. We changed our routine this year and lived to regret it--three ducks instead of one fat goose, and our cooking method was trusted (Cook's Illustrated) but sadly imperfect. Well, imperfect unless you enjoy duck jerky. And you know, some people do. But we made duck gravy and the sides were delicious and all was well. The salad was the winner of Christmas Night. I'll throw in this recipe as a bonus, even without a picture, because it was inspired.

a whole big bunch of wild arugula
plenty of chopped roasted chestnuts
a good amount of slivered fennel
minced fennel fronds
lots of broken-up frico wafers (frico is a melted Parmesan or Asiago crisp: recipe here)
more-or-less-Jamie-Oliver's "Mind-Blowing Sauce"

Sauce a la Jamie more-or-less: take six peeled cloves of garlic and 10 anchovy fillets and gently simmer in a pot with 2/3 cup of milk for ten minutes, until garlic is cooked. In a blender, mix these ingredients with about 1/2 cup good extra virgin olive oil (more for creamier dressing) and 2 or 3 tbsp. good white wine vinegar. Season/sweeten to taste and dress salad. Voila! Best. Salad. Ever.

And then Gabe turned 30. Oh, lordy. I wanted to outdo myself for that one, so my friend Heather and I hosted a shindig at a very cute downtown Italian wine bar the day before his birthday. That was epic--and then, then, we went to Babbo.

This is what Mario Batali calls "Guancia Ripiena" with Eggplant Caponata and Broccoli Rabe Pesto. It's basically house-made sausage wrapped in pork fat and roasted, then grilled. The food there was so good it hurts. When you take ravioli and stuff it with goose liver pate, and then dress it with balsamic and brown butter sauce, you have made a friend of Lyndsay Faye and company. Gabe had a great time too. But I still scored bites of everything. In the end we were taken out by Luis and Allison, and we're still on about how nice that was of them and how Mario Batali is a food rock god and how we love our friends.

Then there was New Year's Eve. I was not prepared. Then there was the trip to Washington. Also not ready. But then I got back and it was...

THE SHERLOCK HOLMES/BSI BIRTHDAY WEEKEND.

This is like my crack cocaine.

I ran around to nine (is it nine? I think it was nine...) separate Sherlockian events over the course of five days. The daring folk at the Baker Street Journal trusted me to report on the events, which was absurdly charitable, and so I'm in the midst of writing up a report now. But god damn, it was fun. There were all sorts of people there I never get to see and love chatting with, and we gadded about and toasted everything in sight and talked scholarly papers and ate the best crab cakes of all time (the Coffee House Club's) and I think I might finally be sober now, two days later.

I hosted two of the events, which was also a blast. In retrospect, they ought not to have come right after each other. But truly, it was far more hitchless than I had any right to expect.

This is a picture from the BSI Dinner itself, with Mr. Peter Blau. It would be tough to find a better human being outside of Doylean literature. Mike Whelan held the dinner at the Yale Club this year, and I think it was a great move from the Union League Club. Food was great, the event itself wonderful, and the waitstaff had as poor an opinion of an empty wine glass as anyone I've ever seen.

Anyway, I am back to work and keeping up with this blog and determined not to let my focus slip. But this was, just like last time, one of the major highlights of my year. And it ended with Robert Downey Jr. winning the Golden Globe. How bloody cool are we Sherlockians?

Ginger Pear Cranberry Sauce with Port

2009-11-24T17:44:00.000-08:00

INGREDIENTS (creatively based on another recipe from Cooks Illustrated, November 1999):

3/4 cup water
3/4 cup granulated sugar
1/2 tsp. ground cinnamon
1/4 tsp. table salt
1 generous inch of grated fresh ginger
2 tbsp. orange zest
1 12 oz. bag of fresh cranberries, picked through
2 medium firm, ripe pears, peeled and then diced into 1/2 inch chunks
2 tbsp. good quality ruby port

1) Bring the first 6 ingredients to a boil over high heat in a nonreactive sauce pan, stirring to dissolve the sugar.
2) Combine cranberries and pears and return to boil.
3) Reduce heat to medium and simmer until it reaches the sauce consistency of your choosing (it will thicken more after it cools)--at minimum after about 2/3 of the berries have popped open, five minutes or longer.
4) Add port and cool at room temperature and serve, or stow it in the fridge for up to 7 days.

THE BEER:

We aren't drinking beer at the moment. Before you grow sad on our behalf, because you're doubtless a sympathetic soul, we ARE drinking a cocktail Gabe just made up out of the blue (recipe following). But we had beer earlier, at Amsterdam Ale House (where else?), and it was delicious. A Southern Tier Unearthly Imperial India Pale Ale. Let's talk more about that beer later, because I have no intention whatsoever of pairing it with cranberry sauce. We at Beer Meets Food just wanted to wish you a merry Thanksgiving.

THE COCKTAIL:

1/2 oz. lemon juice
1/2 oz. pomegranate juice
2 oz. gin
1/2 oz. simple syrup
2 dashes orange bitters

1) Combine, with ice. If you don't like sweet cocktails, don't add quite as much simple syrup.
2) Mix. Shake.
3) Pour into cocktail glass.
4) Drink.
5) Start thinking about what you'll drink next.

THE MERRINESS:

Be merry! Be bright! We are thankful for a number of things, and I'll do a short list here:

1) We are thankful we can cook, so people actually come all the way to our house and merrify our Thanksgiving.
2) We are thankful for the means to cook it in the first place.
3) We are thankful that raw sewage is not at this very moment seeping through the ceiling of our bathroom. Long story. (As it was last Thanksgiving. Long story. Not a short story. But as the Beatles said, It's Getting Better All the Time.)

Sweet Potato Gnocchi with Roasted Tomato Shrimp Sauce

2009-11-15T21:02:00.000-08:00

INGREDIENTS:

(for the beer)

1 12 oz. bottle (or more!) Dogfish Head Punkin' Ale

(for the gnocchi: will make about 6 servings)

3 medium sweet potatoes, roasted (you can microwave them or boil them if you really prefer, but we found the dry cooking method made for less moisture to deal with--and you can be roasting the sauce elements at the same time)
1 1/2 cups white flour (approx.)
1 fresh egg
1/4 cup maple syrup
1/4 tsp. grated nutmeg
salt and pepper to taste

1) Peel your sweet potatoes and either shave them into a fine pulp with a knife or send them through a potato ricer. Don't overwork.
2) Pile the flesh in the middle of a big well-floured cutting board with the beaten egg, maple, and all dry spices in the center.
3) Sprinkle the pulp with flour, slowly incorporating the dry ingredients into the wet ones with a fork. Add only as much flour as needed--the dough should be sticky, nearly too sticky to handle although still workable.
4) Divide your dough into 4 ropes on a dry, well-floured surface, each about 1/2 inch thick. Cut the ropes into 1-inch segments with a floured knife.
5) Leave as much gnocchi as you want to cook immediately on your work surface. Transfer the rest to a nonstick baking sheet and place in the freezer (you'll have lots). When the individual dumplings are frozen enough not to be sticky, you can put them in a freezer bag and have gnocchi for later.
6) Boil a large pot of salted water while you make the sauce. Drop all the reserved gnocchi into the water when it reaches a rolling boil, and watch it carefully. When all of it floats, it's finished. Transfer with a slotted spoon directly into the sauce.

(for the sauce: serves 2)

(just oil the to-be-roasted ingredients lightly and cook them in the oven on a tin-foiled baking sheet for about 50 minutes at 400 degrees along with your sweet potatoes)
2 tbsp olive oil, divided
1 roasted onion, chopped
2 cloves roasted garlic, minced
2 roasted tomatoes, peeled and chopped
1 tbsp. tomato paste
1 or 2 scotch bonnet peppers, minced (go easy, these are very hot)
1/2 pound of shrimp, peeled, de-veined, tails removed
1 cup shrimp or fish or vegetable stock
1 tbsp. agave or sugar
salt and fresh pepper to taste
1/4 cup fresh chopped parsley

1) Heat the oil in a large skillet. When shimmering, add minced scotch bonnet. Saute 1 minute.
2) Add the roasted onion, roasted garlic, tomato paste, sugar, and roasted tomatoes along with the stock. (I always have shrimp stock on hand with shrimp dishes because I make it by boiling the shrimp tails and legs with a little bay leaf and black peppercorn and clove.) Allow to simmer until the tomato has melted into the oil and stock and the sauce has thickened, about 8 minutes.
3) Stir in the raw shrimp. Saute in the sauce until just pink and cooked through.
4) Add parsley. Drain the gnocchi and add directly to the sauce.
5) Sip Punkin' Ale. Enjoy together.

THE BEER:

Dogfish Head folks are crazy in a really good way. They are so passionate about brewing that they are very comfortable going to extremes and pushing boundaries, but we thought their classic pumpkin seasonal ale would be a great pairing with sweet potato gnocchi in an extra-spicy sauce.

This is a brown ale style brewed with pumpkin meat, brown sugar, and pumpkin pie spices. Although a very fun seasonal autumn brew, pumpkin beers often meet with one of two problems: either they don't taste much like pumpkin, or they taste shriekingly of pumpkin. Neither is delicious, although I'd prefer the latter over the former just to say I tasted the pumpkin at all. The nicest thing about Dogfish Head Punkin' Ale is that it both tastes of actual pumpkin and is also quite balanced. The cinnamon, allspice, nutmeg, and malty pie-crusty flavors all blend together delightfully, but you don't feel as if you're drinking carbonated pumpkin pie in any way. This is still beer, baby.

THE AILMENT:

A word of caution when dealing with scotch bonnets. You know scotch bonnet peppers, yes? The ones pictured up top with Gabe holding them? Well, that's the color and the sole quantity in which my downstairs C-Town grocery store sells them. This is because, as I have deduced by now, my C-Town is making attempts on my life.

You can't buy one scotch bonnet, you see. Or even several. You have to buy oodles. And then there they are, all multicolored and beautiful and smelling of sweet grass when sweet grass tastes a bit like lava, and my natural reaction to their loveliness is to cook them. So about two years ago, when I was determined to eat Thai-style ground pork with green beans, I minced four of them up and dropped them into shimmering oil.

Here's where I slipped up.

I had my face over the pot.

Now, I know that life is a fragile and tangential continuum, multifaceted and painted in as many opinions and beliefs as there are shades of grey, but nevertheless breathing the air above newly simmering scotch bonnets is NEVER A GOOD IDEA.

Why, you might ask? I have a two-word answer to that question:

CHILI LUNG.

How does one cure Chili Lung, the reader desires to know? How do I know if I have Chili Lung? Is it hilarious? The answer to the third question: no. Well, a little. I'm going to answer the second question next: you know you have Chili Lung when you sound as if you have walking pneumonia for literally a THREE MONTH PERIOD OF TIME. Another good sign is when your cat (pictured, a very reasonable and non-reactionary feline) screams like the vacuum cleaner just came to life and flees the kitchen in a blur of panicked mammal the instant the peppers hit the pot. See, it turns out by pure linguistic coincidence that the active ingredient in pepper spray is...well, you're an intelligent reader, so I leave you to determine whether or not you have Chili Lung.

As to the first question, what should you do about it once you have given yourself (or, if we're blaming the nefarious source, C-Town has given you) Chili Lung? I have, by rigorous process of elimination, cataloged several remedies that do not work in the smallest degree:

1) Taking steam baths. Nope. Weak.
2) Covering your head with a towel and inhaling a steamed pot of eucalyptus. No. Sets you coughing again.
3) Sucking cough lozenges. Negligible effect.
4) Standing outside C-Town swearing like a theatre techie. This feels excellent, but the symptoms inevitably return. A temporary cure, though a pleasure.
5) Stealing your Dad's asthma inhaler. Promising, but you don't have asthma--so it just gives you a really weird, distant high before you start coughing again.

Solution: outfox C-Town. Do not get Chili Lung in the first place.

Which leads me to ask: who in their right mind buys this quantity of scotch bonnets at a go? And don't say "Dominicans," because I thought of that already, but my neighbors are bon vivants, not suicidal lunatics. I am left with my original conclusion. C-Town has designs on my life.

Garlic Scape Pizza

2009-10-09T09:38:00.000-07:00

INGREDIENTS:

(for the dough; adapted from recipe first printed in Bon Appetit, August 1998)

3/4 cup warm water
1 teaspoon honey
1 envelope dry yeast
2 cups wheat flour
1 1/2 teaspoons olive oil
3/4 teaspoon salt

1) Place 3/4 cup warm water and honey in processor. Sprinkle yeast over; let stand until mixture is foamy, about 5 minutes.
2) Add flour, oil and salt. Process until dough forms.
3) Turn dough out onto lightly floured surface. Knead until smooth, about 5 minutes.
4) Transfer dough to large oiled bowl; turn to coat. Cover with plastic wrap, then kitchen towel. Let dough rise in warm draft-free area until doubled in volume, about 1 1/2 hours.
5) Punch down dough. Divide into 2 equal balls.

WARNING: VERY FREE-FORM INSTRUCTIONS FOLLOW (APOLOGIES)

Now it gets creative.

Obviously this is garlic scape pizza, so here's what we did with the scapes themselves: chop scapes on the bias into 2-inch lengths. Heat olive oil in a wide skillet until shimmering. Add scapes, with salt and pepper to taste, and saute over med-high heat until the skins are slightly browned and the scapes are cooked through. (When they're done, they are going to resemble the consistency of sauteed green beans or asparagus--5-7 minutes should be enough, depending on thickness.)

What do they taste like? When they're raw, they taste like garlic. When cooked, they're very sweet, like a caramelized sweet shallot.

Delicious. They taste delicious.

When you're ready to roll out your pizza dough, you're going to want to put a pizza stone in the oven (very important--maybe if you didn't have one, you could stick a gigantic cast iron skillet or some really heavy quarry tiles in there?) and preheat it to 500 degrees (if 550 is your highest setting, go for broke). Rolling out the dough is good fun, and you're going to want to do it on a breadboard scattered with a good amount of semolina flour or cornmeal.

It's all about the toppings with pizza, obviously. The first dough ball we used got covered with:

drizzled extra virgin olive oil
1 cup grated manchego
6 thinly sliced garden baby Roma tomatoes
sprinkled parmesan
sauteed scapes
salt and pepper
(finished with chiffonade of fresh basil)

Second dough ball:

drizzled extra virgin olive oil
big dollops of Boursin garlic and herb cheese
sauteed scapes
dried thyme
red pepper flake
sprinkled parmesan
(finished with chiffonade of fresh basil)

Further instructions (throughout the course of these steps, you should be drinking beer):

1) When the first pizza is dressed, carefully scoot the dough onto a semolina-lined rimless nonstick cookie sheet or pizza peel (if you have one).
2) Line up the far edge of your peel or baking sheet with the far edge of your stone or tiles or maybe a huge cast iron pan if you're very adventurous, and tilt peel or baking sheet, jerking it gently to start pizza moving. Once edge of pizza touches stone or tiles, carefully pull back peel or baking sheet, completely transferring pizza to stone or tiles or your crazy-big cast iron (do not move pizza).
3) Bake pizza 6 to 7 minutes, or until dough is crisp and browned, and transfer with a metal spatula to a cutting board.
4) Immediately move your second pizza onto your semolina-sprinkled "device," slide it into the oven onto your other "contraption," and close oven door.
5) Turn around.
6) You should find your first pizza in front of you, sitting on a cutting board near your beer. Sprinkle with fresh basil. During the next 6 to 7 minutes, eat it up.
7) Get your second pizza out of the oven and place onto the now-cleared cutting board.
8) Find your beer. Turn off the oven (it's very hot). Sprinkle fresh basil over your second pizza. Eat it up.

THE BEER:

Let's talk about Sixpoint Craft Ales for a second. Why? Because they're awesome. And local. (For us.)

When Gabe and I first moved to NYC, we were already rabidly slavering beer nerdlings who had tried so many obscure brews that we were ecstatic to sample local East Coast fare. Unfortunately, some of it tasted less like microbrew and more like malts filtered through a fermented fireman's sock with hops maybe waved around in the air nearby it as it conditioned (you know who you are). Then we started chatting it up with other lunatic beer dorks, as beer dorks are wont to do, and discovered that apart from the nationally known Brooklyn Brewing Company, there was another "Brooklyn" brewing company: Sixpoint Craft Ales.

Already, we liked the name more. Excellent. Off to a good start.

But it only gets better. Sixpoint refers to its Brooklynite craftsmen in its website as a part of a larger "community of artists" unable to "resist the magnetic pull of [Brooklyn's] natural and urban beauty" who "take what we know, what we like, and what we aspire to be, and create our own style."

EPIC.

You are unlikely to be sipping a Sixpoint just now, unless you are the sort of person who possesses an NYC MTA card instead of a car. They don't distribute in bottles, and they don't send their drafts far afield. But hereabouts we can get growlers of the stuff at Whole Foods, which is a lovely ornament to life, liberty, and the pursuit of quality brew.

Specifically, drink the Brownstone with a slice of pizza in your hand when you get a chance. Make a point of doing so. Sixpoint Brownstone is an American Brown Ale style, 5.7 ABV, with a sweet, rich, cocoa-caramel nose and a brilliant dark mahogany color. The ample piney hops are so perfectly integrated with the roasted-pecan tones and the faintly molasses-tinged malt sweetness that you will do a merry beer jig and demand another glass. Great carbonation for a brown, too, and it tastes so much like home-baked bread that you really don't NEED the slice of pizza in your other hand...but have it anyway. Live large.

THE SCAPES:

I recently learned off the Google on the interweb that scapes and roses are friends. Isn't that odd? Apparently they're "companion" plants, which means they grow better when planted in close proximity and are allowed to hold hands and have tea parties and watch the Colin Firth miniseries version of Pride and Prejudice with martinis at their...elbows. Anyway, I'm going to pretend that this post is remotely seasonal by saying that if you want to grow garlic scapes in your garden...THE TIME IS NOW! Hooray for autumn, and the ideal time to plant your wee little garlic bulbs.

Here's how to do it, in a nice, detailed report from Boundary Garlic Farm.

Reasons to plant your own garlic:

1) You get to eat garlic scapes, the tender fronds of the garlic plant. This is reason enough. Stop reading and go plant garlic.
2) Most of the garlic eaten in the Unites States comes from China. That's ridiculous. Seriously, how much fossil fuel is that using? Foolish. Grow your own.
3) The plant looks like something out of a Dr. Seuss book. People will talk about it--and you, by proxy, as an intriguing and dangerous individual.
4) The garlic scape will give your roses backrubs and talk about their sex lives over macchiatos and invite them over for holidays.
5) I'm doing it! I'm doing it! Peer pressure! I might even buy them roses.
6) It's very difficult, in some parts of the country, to find garlic scapes at the grocery store. PROBLEM SOLVED.

Tarragon Shrimp Snap Pea Salad

2009-09-11T10:46:00.000-07:00

Goodbye to the Extreme Summer Series! Why? Because it's cold, dammit. Also raining. Perhaps I'll include more garden photography in future posts anyway, absent of theme. But mourn not for Extreme Summer--I shall speak of Fall Fashion Week parties instead.

INGREDIENTS:

1 large head fennel, shaved thin, fronds reserved
4 oz. slivered ricotta salata
6 oz. sugar snap peas, julienned
1 small shallot, shaved very thin
3 springs fresh tarragon, chopped
6 garlic cloves, chopped rough
12 shrimp, tails removed, seasoned with a little salt and pepper
2 tsp. olive oil
1/2 tsp red pepper flake
1/4 cup mayonnaise
1 1/2 tsp. honey or agave
1 tbsp. white wine vinegar
1 tbsp. poppy seeds
Salt and pepper to taste
-------------------------------------
Harpoon Leviathan Big Bohemian Pilsner

1) Mince your fennel fronds. Toss them with the snap peas, ricotta salata, fennel, shallot and fresh tarragon in a bowl. Set aside.
2) Whisk or shake together the mayonnaise, honey or agave, white wine vinegar, poppy seeds salt and pepper. Adjust seasoning to taste.
3) Heat the olive oil in a skillet. When oil is hot, add red pepper flake and garlic and saute until garlic is nearly golden, about 1 minute. Add shrimp and cook until tender and just pink. Set shrimp aside.
4) Scrape the oil, pepper flake and garlic from the skillet into the salad bowl with the fennel and snap peas. Add dressing to salad and toss well to coat. Adjust seasonings if necessary.
5) Arrange your shrimp over the salad.
6) Open Harpoon Leviathan Pilsner.
7) Enjoy together.

THE BEER:
Harpoon's Leviathan series is really growing on us. They don't make outrageously good standard bottles yet, although some are quite drinkable, but the Leviathan series is what its name implies: big. Now, a 9% alcohol pilsner is admittedly counter-intuitive, but it's also very good. The classic pilsner malts are nice and frothy, as the brewer's notes mention, and they used Czech hops for further authenticity. Apart from that, however, this is anything but an average pilsner--the hops are very aromatic with lots of grape and lemon notes from the big malt profile. Very tasty, doesn't drink like it's 9% hooch, so use with caution but by all means enjoy with shellfish! Delicious.

THE PARTY:
So NYC launched Fall Fashion Week last night, and I helped them pull the trigger. We spent a good spell of time at Versani and then wandered over to Prada to see all our other friends. Gabe bartends next door, so he's pretty much the Sam Malone of the flagship Prada, and man alive am I happy to know the fabulously artistic cats who sell luggage worth more than my car, when I had a car. (I have no car.) The employees at Versani and Prada are the nicest people, and the evening was absurdly fun all round. There might, admittedly, be better things than a night of free champagne and ace-high people-watching while wearing an ivory cloche hat, but nothing occurs to me at the moment.

Hair and make-up by me. The dress is vintage and thrift-store purchased. Cloche hat by H&M, $12.95. Boots not shown, but were a gift from Mom. Thanks, Mom! Tights from Daffy's Clothing Bargains for Millionaires. Necklace by Prada with Swarovski crystals. Necklace does not belong to me, but they let me try it on. Necklace costs approximately triple what Gabe and I spent on a month in Thailand. Necklace costs are frankly prohibitive. Necklace costs about as much as my entire beautiful catered wedding ten years back (same general figure). Necklace will never be mine. But we were good friends for a brief time. I'd like to think when this necklace finds a home, it will occasionally speak of me over appetizers when its owner is sipping oysters and French rose champagne.

I had a grand time talking to everyone on the streets about art and style. A class act purple bow tie-wearing gent and I were interviewed in front of Vera Wang's fete about the mood of the celebration, and whether we thought it elitist. Elitist? It was a block party. With free champagne. Free sushi. Free bands. And hardly any of the designers had guest lists. The ones who did have guest lists, the bloggers report, had lamer parties. So there! Viva riffraff and artists and thrift store dresses! Opening Ceremony cleared out all their display windows so the common folk could pose as mannequins. That's what I call fashion.

Extreme Summer Garden Party

2009-09-01T10:39:00.000-07:00

I love my neighborhood! And my neighbors. And eating clams and boiling crabs and grilling sweet potatoes while people play African dance and spin old skool Beck tunes.

INGREDIENTS (for successful garden party):
1 huge metal vat with an ungodly dangerous propane flame under it
plenty of 22 oz. bottles of Budweiser
a bunch of fresh crabs that keep trying to crawl away from their boxes
1 assload of Old Bay seasoning
----------------------------------
a nearby fire station if necessary
plenty of beer, wine, and friends
good weather
African dancers

1) Heat vat over ungodly dangerous propane tank, being careful throughout process not to die.
2) Pour in Budweiser and bring to a boil.
3) Dump in a bunch of crabs and cook them until they aren't alive and are nice and red.
4) Eat them with your friends. Enjoy a beer simultaneously.

Extreme Summer Series: Summer Dinner Party

2009-08-27T19:05:00.000-07:00

We had two of the world's finest ASH/BSI over for a summer dinner party recently, and decided unabashedly to show off our love for retro food stylings in honor of Susan and Mickey, who--unlike the more gastronomically cautious/sensible of our friends--have no problem with scooping up dollops of chicken liver mousse and sending it mouthward. Our devoted affection for our other friends notwithstanding, a couple of them are leery of the exotics--organ meats, soup that ain't hot. Shellfish. The menu was as follows, but we're only going to post the soup recipe, because we're lazy gadabouts who drink like it's summer and can no longer recall proportions.

The chicken liver mousse was excellent, and the recipe can be found here. We modified it thusly: rehydrate the apricots in Spanish brandy instead of water (water??), use Spanish brandy to marinate the livers, and replace the dried figs with a small amount of minced candied ginger. Then, if you're like us and you enjoy a nice terrine, send it mouthward. Also, if you like brilliant food photography and tasty comestibles from la belle France (who doesn't, apart from Bill O'Reilly?), you should regularly check out the rest of La Table de Nana. Gorgeous blog, and several of her recipes are translated from classic French cooking sites.

MENU:

Chilled Radish Green Soup with Greek Yoghurt
~
Sugar Snap Pea Salad with Ricotta Salata and Tarragon Vinaigrette
~
Terrine of Chicken Liver Mousse, Apricot, Candied Ginger, Hazelnut and Pistachio
~
Tomato, Garlic, and Olive Oil-Poached Shrimp with Two Garden Basils

(both above items served with baguette)
~
Koltiska Liqueur-Glazed Nectarines with Basil and homemade Burnt Sugar Cardamom Ice Cream

INGREDIENTS (for radish greens soup):
greens, very thoroughly washed and then coarsely chopped, from 1 bunch radishes
8 large radishes, chopped
4 scallions, chopped, with white and green parts separated
1 large russet potato, peeled and chopped
6 cloves garlic, chopped
3 bay leaves
1 tsp. dried thyme
1 handful chopped raw almonds
1 piece parmesan rind
2 tbsp. white wine vinegar
rich vegetable stock to cover (about 6 cups)
Salt and pepper to taste

for garnish: sliced raw radish, chives, and Greek yoghurt

1) Bring vegetable stock to boil along with all the ingredients save for the radish greens and green portion of scallions. Simmer for 40 minutes or until potatoes are tender.
2) Discard bay leaves and parmesan rind.
3) Add chopped green portion of scallions and radish greens. Simmer until just cooked, about 5 minutes.
4) Blend thoroughly, either in a standing blender or with an immersion blender, until the texture is smooth and the almonds have created a creamy texture. Season to taste, with plenty of pepper.
5) Chill thoroughly.
6) Garnish with raw radishes, fresh chives, and a dollop of Greek yoghurt.
7) Open a beer. Enjoy together.*

*(We paired a beer with the main course. It was delicious. We cannot, however, remember what beer it might have been. We recollect a Belgian yeast strain and a nice, frothy champagne texture that paired wonderfully with the mousse. You'll never know what it was, with our apologies--but then again, neither will we. Such is the occasional nature of the beast known as the Dinner Party. When one begins a dinner party with Prohibition-style cocktails, once must be prepared to face the shameful public consequences.)

THE FOOD PHOTOGRAPHY:
Food photography is a hilarious business. I'm going to say a word on the subject because we forgot the beer, and while the evening's conversational gambits ought to have been recorded for posterity, there are only so many Glenn Beck jokes that look tasteful when set in cold, hard print on the web.

We were first exposed to the utter hilarity of poor '50s and '60s food photography by the master: James Lileks, author of The Gallery of Regrettable Food. There is a living to be made excoriating the absolutely inedible quality of retro cookbooks' food photography. Or there is when you're clever enough for your headings to include phrases like "The Unbearable Sadness of Vegetables," or "Jello Confronts the Depression." A sample from the section titled "Meat! Meat! Meat!":

This would seem to be a segment of an intestine from some creature that ingested the fender from an old DeSoto. In any case, it's alarmingly aerodynamic, this meat; very modern and streamlined. Perhaps this recipe hails from the 1939 World's Fair.

Fabulous.

Now, we try on Beer Meets Food never to offend the sensibilities of hapless internet food gawkers with such unfortunate food photography. But we made chicken liver mousse, of all things, and then we put it on my great-grandmother's china. And it was almost immediately...regrettable. I mean, the kitsch value was through the roof, like socks with ice cream sundaes printed on them, or a Thomas Kinkade print with specks of paint spackled onto it by one of his seven hundred Glowing Cottage Elves. So...you would eat this, wouldn't you?

How about this, though?

We thought not.

Salad Nicoise

2009-08-04T08:58:00.000-07:00

EXTREME SUMMER GARDEN SERIES: MORE HERBS AND FRESH BABY LETTUCE IN ONE PLACE THAN YOU EVER THOUGHT POSSIBLE:

INGREDIENTS (serves two; this recipe is a simplified/modified version of the one found in Cooks Illustrated from July 1st, 2002):

(hint: you're going to be boiling/steaming quite a few things, so reuse your water--hard boil your eggs and then set them in an ice bath, then boil the potatoes and put them on a board to cool, then set your steamer above the same water and steam the beans)

(for the salad)
1 8-oz. tuna steak, rubbed with salt, pepper, chili powder, and ground coriander
4 large eggs, hard boiled and quartered
5 small new red potatoes, boiled
2 tbsp. dry vermouth
1 handful trimmed green beans, steamed and then rinsed in cold water
1 small head fresh garden lettuce, leaves torn into bite-size pieces and washed thoroughly
2 small vine-ripened tomatoes, sliced and sprinkled with salt and pepper
1 very small red onion, quartered and sliced paper-thin
1/4 cup nicoise olives, chopped

(for the vinaigrette)
1/4 cup lemon juice
1/3 cup fruity extra virgin olive oil
1/2 medium shallot, minced very fine
1 tbsp. minced fresh thyme leaves
1 tbsp. minced fresh basil
2 tsp. minced fresh marjoram (you can substitute 1 tsp. fresh oregano if you like)
1 tsp. Dijon mustard
1 tsp. honey or agave

(for the beer: 1 bottle Sam Adams Imperial White)

1) Heat a cast-iron or heavy-bottomed skillet with 1 tbsp. olive oil until the oil is very hot, nearly smoking. Sear the tuna for a little over one minute on each side and then remove to a board to slice.
2) When the boiled potatoes are cool enough to handle, toss with the vermouth, add salt and pepper, and set aside.
3) Whisk all the ingredients in the vinaigrette together and taste, adjusting seasoning.
4) Combine the green beans, lettuce, and red onion in a bowl and toss with 3/4 of the vinaigrette. Plate your greens.
5) Toss the potatoes with the remaining vinaigrette. Arrange the potatoes, sliced tomatoes, olives, and eggs around the edges of the salad and season the tomatoes and eggs with a little salt and pepper. Finish by placing the cooled tuna slices over the greens.
6) Open Sam Adams Imperial White.
7) Enjoy together.

THE BEER:
Samuel Adams--the regular version--is just really low on my personal list of beers. I think Dave Chappelle's "Samuel L. Jackson: It's My F&%$ing Beer" would probably taste better, if it existed. But we cannot overstate how successful this pairing was. Sam Imperial White is a 10.3% alcohol witbeer brewed with half wheat and half barley malts, enhanced with classic witbeer spices like coriander and orange peel, with a good dose of smooth banana sweetness on the palate. It's actually quite silky and fruity for such a high alcohol brew, which makes it deceptively drinkable, not to say dangerous. The dressing for the nicoise salad is a nice tart lemony flavor balanced by loads of herbs, and when nibbled in conjunction with the almost creamy candied orange notes of this beer, both the food and the drink taste better. Exactly what we want in a pairing. HUZZAH.

By the way, Sam Adams had been putting out more and more specialty beers in recent times, even apart from their seasonal offerings like the Cherry Wheat, for example, and if the Imperial White is any indication, they're worth a taste-gander. It would be kind of silly to call them a microbrewery--Samuel Adams is actually the largest of all American-owned beer brewers following the InBev Belgian takeover of Anheuser-Busch--but one thing Sam Adams has been doing for a long time effectively is producing drinkable high-alcohol concoctions. (Their brew Utopias was record-setting at 27% abv.)

THE GARDEN:
We're growing lettuce heads for the first time this year, and they're frigging cool. I always supposed that lettuce heads in a garden would be just like the ones that come from a store--you know, when they've grown big enough they're pulled entirely out of the ground, and then it's fare-thee-well-lettuce-plant-I-shall-dress-thee-for-thy-tomb-in-my-dark-stomach. And my garden would have a sad hole in it. I thought this because I'm an American and we don't grow our own food in these parts. Food comes from a box, if at all possible, or arrives on a plate in front of me carried by a gent in a black apron already cooked. (I love when that happens.) But you can actually pluck the biggest leaves one by one from the base of the plant and the stem will just get longer, growing and producing more greenery. Some of my lettuces are getting absurdly long, curvy stalks by now, which is not only delicious but kind of surreal and amusing to look at. My lettuces, as I milk their worth, are starting to look like Dr. Seuss plants. An unlooked-for benefit, and one I'll repeat next year.

Announcing: EXTREME SUMMER GARDEN SERIES

2009-07-16T21:09:00.000-07:00

Beer Meets Food is taking it to another level, ladies and gents. The picture you see before you is nothing other than our yearly garden plot here in the Heights, the one we've been yammering on about for four years. See it? See the little lettuce heads and the sage bush and the five kinds of basil? See my Hudson River rocks, which are totally shiny naturally? (They're in the front by the lemon thyme). See how the parsley is trying to stage an escape, and see the Thai basil behind it? See how I have, like, one marigold? See the fried chicken smell wafting through the air from Mamma's Fried Chicken? No? Well, it's generally so thick you can see the chicken smell, but maybe the wind was blowing a little leeward this morning.

Foodies and people-who-tolerate-me everywhere, prepare yourselves for a series as rooted in the natural world as the flesh of a rutabaga, as verdant and grassy as our neighbors' marijuana supply, as flavorful as the language used on the streets here in Washington Heights, in the pulsing heart of the Dominican Republic. Did you think I lived in New York City? Think again. Or don't think at all, as might be more comfortable for you depending on workload--and check out our hood for yourselves. Wander through the streets, sipping a cafe con leche that you asked to have with "no" sugar so that you only got a heaping tablespoon. That's right, kids, Beer Meets Food is taking you on a whirlwind tour of our very own community garden, with recipes inspired by growing plants, in our new installment:

BEER MEETS FOOD: EXTREME SUMMER GARDEN SERIES*
Baseball season never felt this locavore-agrarian!

GREENER-FRESHER-ADMITTEDLY DRUNKER-WAY MORE HUMID

*(with special guest appearances by
Stinky the Redolent Subway Crackhead and
The O-No-He-Di'En't-3 am Screamers)

THE HERB:
Let's talk about purple basil for a second.

Purple basil has a similar flavor profile to its cousin Italian basil, but we find it to be a bit more concentrated, less sweet than the classic Italian "sweet" green basil, and it carries more touches of pepper and anise. This is all relative, by the way--purple basil is bred specifically to filter the green out of it, and in consequence the strains are not always consistent regarding flavor. I've heard it called bland, which isn't the case for ours, but I can certainly see how that might have happened. In any case, the leaves are generally a little thicker, more durable. And also purple basil is more awesome, because it's purple. Purple things rule.

(Not to get off topic, but seriously, even if I didn't have a girlfriend called Purple, how awesome are purple things? Like beans, and sweet potatoes, and...daring old women's outfits? I approve of purple things. Besides, they're good for you. Lots of antioxidants.)

THE RECIPE: Herb-Topped Slurp Noodles

INGREDIENTS:
1 tsp olive oil
1 tsp sesame oil
1 yellow onion, chopped
1 inch of peeled ginger, grated
6-8 cloves garlic, pressed or minced
1/2 tsp dried red pepper flake
6 cups chicken stock
1/4 cup soy sauce
1 star anise pod
2/3 pound asparagus, thick ends peeled and trimmed, cut into matchsticks
1/4 of a small red cabbage, cored and sliced very thin
1 handful (the pre-wrapped portion we used was 3 ounces) buckwheat soba noodles
3 handfuls each fresh mint, purple basil, and chives, sliced thin in a chiffonade
---------------------------------
1 bottle Weyerbacher Zotten Belgian Pale Ale.

1) Heat both oils in a stock pot and add ginger, onion, garlic and red pepper flake. Saute until fragrant and golden, a little over a minute.
2) Add chicken stock, soy sauce, and star anise. Simmer uncovered for 15 minutes.
3) Add cabbage and cook for another 3 minutes.
4) Stir in asparagus and bring back to a simmer, cooking for about 2 minutes longer.
5) Clear a space in the broth for the soba noodles. Submerge in the broth and simmer until cooked through and just barely tender, about 3 minutes. Adjust seasoning--add a little agave or salt if needed.
6) Garnish with the fresh herbs, to taste. Open Weyerbacher Zotten. Enjoy together.

THE BEER:
Zotten is a new special-release offering from an Easton, PA craft brewery called Weyerbacher who make pretty damn killer specialty brews. They're a local outfit who like to bill themselves as being artisanal, which is perfectly fair--they don't brew too much and let anything lose consistency, while on the other hand they make an impressive variety of seasonal styles. Specifically, the Zotten is an American Pale Ale, so very crisp and clean with Centennial and Cascade hops, but brewed with a Belgian abbey yeast strain. The stuff is good. You should drink it in a garden.

THE GARDEN:
This is me smiling in my garden. I'm smiling for three reasons: first, I love my garden. Second, I am not shoveling the mulch you see underfoot. Last week the garden administrator ambushed Gabe and me as we were coming out the front door of our apartment building.

NANCY: We just got these three forests' worth of mulch delivered free of charge in seventeen city dumptrucks. It's all sitting right here in a big pile. And as you can see, here are several extra shovels.

US: Awesome. That is so tight.

NANCY: There are some wheelbarrows over there.

US: You must feel really comfortable being so equipped for any eventuality.

NANCY: Since the mulch is on the sidewalk and it's going to rain in an hour or so, how would you feel about grabbing a shovel?

US: Poor. We feel pretty unenthusiastic about that idea, in all honesty. We were steps away from the subway. Well. Ok, fine.

So with stellar arguments like that backing you, what you end up doing for the next hour--wearing little black leather pumps, no less, and hell yes the gents on our street laughed at me--is shoveling mulch. If you're me, and you're starting to crack and you see kids coming down the sidewalk, you also start saying things under your breath like, "Hey kid, wanna play a shovel game?" I tell you, with Dominicans, that proposal goes over like a lead balloon. I think my favorite moment came when one of my fellow shovelers remarked in rapt shock (and also in Spanish) after about forty minutes of this that I hadn't put down my shovel once, and I replied (in English), "Setting my shovel down is no way to make this pile of mulch my bitch."

But I digress. The third reason I'm smiling is that the garden is so much better this year than in years past. You would not believe the sort of crap people used to sling at each other in this joint, while other more docile people sat shivering and hugging themselves behind the tool shed murmuring, "I like plants. Why? Why choose rage? Why are the hoes sharpened to knife points? Dear God. I like plants so much." This place used to be a seething hotbed of Machiavellian political intrigue, a place where being feared, or loved, or both, was not enough--you needed a mastodon with distemper. But this year...this year is going so well. And see? We have mulch. That's why I'm smiling. More to come in the next installment of Beer Meets Food's EXTREME SUMMER GARDEN SERIES.

Green Olive and Herb Chicken with Root Vegetables

2009-06-27T11:47:00.000-07:00

INGREDIENTS:

(this is a new riff inspired by the Crisp-Skin High-Roast Butterflied Chicken recipe published March 1st, 2000 in Cooks Illustrated)

1 cup kosher salt or 1/2 cup table salt, for brine
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1 whole chicken, no bigger than 3 1/2 lbs., preferably organic, giblets removed, fat around cavity trimmed and discarded
2 1/2 pounds of root vegetables (we prefer carrots, parsnips, and purple sweet potatoes) peeled and sliced 1/4 inch thick
Nonstick vegetable cooking spray
3 tbsp. olive oil, divided
1 tbsp melted butter
10-15 large green olives, pits removed, finely minced
2/3 cup finely minced parsley
3 tbsp. finely minced lemon thyme
4 sprigs fresh rosemary, minced

1) Dissolve the kosher salt and sugar in 2 quarts of cold water, in a large container or pot. Immerse chicken and refrigerate for 1 hour.
2) Adjust oven rack to lower middle and preheat oven to 500 degrees. Line the bottom of your broiler pan with tinfoil and spray evenly with the cooking spray.
3) Remove chicken from brine and rinse under cold water. Place the chicken on a cutting board and butterfly it. First, cut through the bones on either side of the backbone with kitchen scissors, discarding the backbone or reserving it for stock if desired. Flip the chicken over backbone-side down and flatten the breastbone with your hand; you'll hear it break. Now slip your fingers between the skin and the breast meat to loosen.
4) Combine 1 tbsp. of olive oil with the melted butter, minced green olive, parsley, and thyme. Season the green paste generously with salt and pepper. Using either a spoon or your fingers, push the paste in a fairly even layer between the skin and the meat of the breast. Repeat process with the thighs and drumsticks, and pat dry any excess water on the skin with paper towels. Transfer the chicken to the broiling rack and lift the legs toward the middle to rest between the thighs and the breast.
5) Toss your root vegetables with 1 tbsp. olive oil, the minced rosemary, and plenty of salt and black pepper. Spread them in an even layer in the foil-lined broiler pan bottom. rub chicken with remaining olive oil and season the skin with salt and pepper. Place broiler pan rack with chicken on top of the root vegetables.
6) Roast chicken for 20 minutes, until spotty brown. Rotate pan and continue to roast until skin has crisped to a deep brown and an instant-read thermometer registers 160 degrees in the thickest part of the breast, 20-25 minutes longer.
7) Transfer chicken to a cutting board and remove the broiler pan rack with potholders. Invert the foil and transfer the roasted root vegetables to a cookie sheet, patting off the excess grease with paper towels as needed. Cut the chicken into pieces and serve with the carrot, parsnip, and purple sweet potatoes.

Good pairings: we served this with southern-style kale. Spinach would be nice, or mustard greens, or just a big leafy salad or some sauteed green beans.

THE BEER:
Hop Sun Summer Wheat Beer is from one of our favorite New York brewing companies of all time: Southern Tier. Their 22 oz. specialty brew are stellar, but this is one if their several 12 oz. seasonal offerings (March release), and a delicious one at that. The makers tout it as a dry-hopped unfiltered session ale, and that's exactly what they've accomplished--you get the soft, smooth mouthfeel of a wheat beer, but balanced by the grapefruit and orange zest citrus of the hops. If you like wheat beers and hefeweisens in general because they're only very mildly hoppy, this beer might not be for you--but it's a superbly quaffable eating-chicken-by-the-poolside beer with its tender lemon yellow color and cereal malts.

Salsa Verde Brasied Pork Shoulder Two Ways

2009-06-24T11:46:00.000-07:00

INGREDIENTS (serves 6 easily, with brunch leftovers recipe following):

1 5-pound bone-in pork shoulder or Boston Butt, preferably from a pig who was happy in life
2 tbsp. olive oil
10 garlic cloves, minced or pressed
1 bottle of Hoegaarden
1 bottle of Southampton Altbier
2 cups chicken stock, as needed
1 7-oz. can of Herdez Salsa Verde (if you can't find it in a Mexican market, substitute another brand or finely mince 2 tomatillos, 1 small onion, 2 serrano peppers, and a few springs of cilantro)
4 bay leaves
2 tbsp. dried oregano
1 tsp. cumin
2 tsp. ancho chile powder
1 tbsp. Anaheim chile powder
1 tsp. thyme
Salt and black pepper

1) Pre-heat oven temp to 275 degrees. If using a picnic cut, trim off the skin. Score the fatty side of the pork shoulder, at spaces about 2 inches apart, and then repeat perpendicular so the fat is still attached but appears cubed. Make several more deep cuts into the meat to allow the braising liquid to penetrate.
2) Heat the oil in a large, heavy-bottomed casserole, Dutch oven, or soup pot. When oil is very hot and smoking, sear the pork, browning it on all sides. When all the sides are a nice, deep brown, remove to a plate.
3) You'll have some rendered fat in the pot now. Turn down heat to medium. Add minced garlic and saute until golden, about 1 minute.
4) Add all the dry herbs and spices, stirring constantly to toast, for 1 minute.
5) Incorporate the wet ingredients (both beers and the can of Herdez), and add salt and pepper. Bear in mind when salting the liquid that you will be reducing it by half later in the process. Note: if you can't find the same beers we used, the recipe would work just as well with other options. We liked the orangey-coriander spice of the Hoegaarden combined with the rich brown of the Altbier, but truly, use what you like.
6) Return the pork to the pot. Bring to a simmer. The liquid should come halfway up the sides of your meat--if needed, add chicken stock.
7) Cover and braise in the 275 degree oven for AT LEAST 3 1/2 hours, stirring occasionally, more like 4 hours if you have the time.
8) Remove pork to a cutting board. You will have a great deal of rendered fat in your pot. You can a) use a spoon and skim it off when it cools enough to handle, b) use one of those nifty fat-separating teapot looking thingies, or c) put the pot in the refrigerator overnight and peel the hardened fat off in the morning. This is not a fast recipe. We used a spoon.
9) Return the cooking liquid (minus most of the rendered fat--feel free to save that for another purpose) to a burner and reduce by about half.
10) Meanwhile, shred your pork. It should fall right off the bone.
11) Season your reduced cooking liquid to taste and return shredded pork to the pot, mixing it all together.
12) Serve, with guacamole, cilantro, and corn tortillas.

THE BEER:
This recipe already uses two beers. Either would work fantastic with these pork tacos. ANY beer in the WORLD would go well with these pork tacos. Maybe have a Negro Modelo. Let me know how it goes.

THE LEFTOVERS:
You folks are seriously getting two for the price of one in this blog post. For brunch the next day, (serves two, feel free to double the recipe):

1 medium purple sweet potato, diced
2 garlic cloves, chopped
2 tsp. paprika
Salt and pepper to taste
1/2 cup minced cilantro
1 cup braised pork shoulder
-----------------------
6 cups of water
2 tbsp. white vinegar
2 eggs

1) Heat the oil and add the garlic, paprika and sweet potatoes. Saute, stirring occasionally, until the sweet potato is cooked through. Season to taste.
2) Meanwhile, add the vinegar to the water and bring to a boil. Crack the eggs into the water. Cook at a strong simmer for exactly 4 minutes for perfect runny-in-the-middle poached eggs, longer if you like a harder center.
3) Reheat the braised pork shoulder and layer it over the sweet potato, making a small nest in the center of the bowl. Sprinkle cilantro generously over all.
4) Remove the eggs from the boiling water after 4 minutes with a slotted spoon, placing the poached egg in the center of the hash. Season egg and serve.

Honey-Chili Glazed Copper River Salmon with Oyster Sauce Slaw and Herb Potatoes

2009-06-18T13:31:00.000-07:00

INGREDIENTS (serves 4):

(for the salmon)

1 large (we used a 2-pound) fillet of wild Copper River salmon, cut into single portion-sized steaks, skin on
3 tbsp. butter
2 tbsp naam prik pow (Thai red chili sauce)
3 tbsp. honey
4 tbsp. (about 5 sprigs) minced fresh tarragon
Salt and black pepper

1) Pre-heat oven with a rack in the middle to 375 degrees. Melt the butter in a small saucepan and whisk in the chili sauce and honey over medium heat. When the sauce thickens slightly and all the ingredients are incorporated, about 4 minutes later, remove from burner.
2) Set the salmon steaks skin-side down on a oiled, foil-wrapped cookie sheet. Brush half the glaze onto the top of the steaks, sprinkling liberally with the tarragon. Season.
3) Place the cookie sheet in the oven and bake for 4 minutes. After 4 minutes, pull steaks out and brush the remaining half of the glaze over the tops. Return to oven for another 4 minutes.
4) After approximately 8 minutes total cooking time--10 for very thick steaks--remove from oven when just barely cooked through.

(for the oyster sauce slaw)

1/2 pound shaved bicolor cabbage (use one color if you prefer either all red or all green)
1 tbsp. sesame oil
1 tsp. soy sauce
1 tbsp good-quality oyster sauce
1 tsp. rice wine vinegar
1/3 cup minced chives
1 tsp. flax seeds
Salt and pepper to taste

1) Whisk all the ingredients except the cabbage, chives, and flax seeds in a small bowl, or shake in a jar. Adjust seasoning to taste.
2) Sprinkle chives and flax seeds over the shredded cabbage and then drizzle dressing over all. Toss and serve.

(for the potatoes)

1/2 pound baby red potatoes, well scrubbed
1 cup flat-leaf Italian parsley leaves, minced
1 tbsp. toasted black cumin seeds
1 clove garlic, minced or pressed
2 tbsp. extra virgin olive oil
1 tbsp. whole-grain Dijon mustard
1 tsp. rice, herb, or cider vinegar (depending on preference)
Salt and fresh cracked black pepper

1) Steam the potatoes until tender. Cut them in halves.
2) Whisk the remaining ingredients very briskly, or shake them in a salad dressing shaker or lidded jar.
3) Dress the potatoes, coating them well. Adjust salt and pepper to taste.

(for the beer)
1 bottle Hoegaarden witbeer

1) Open Hoegaarden
2) Enjoy together

THE BEER:
Most folk are already pretty well versed in the most famous of the Belgian styles, but Hoegaarden deserves a shout-out nevertheless. It's not only a great summer beer and a lovely beer with fish, it's also the most balanced and tasty of all the witbeer styles we've tried. In addition to the water, yeast, wheat, and hops, that all beers contain (one hopes) witbeers add spices--in general, coriander and dried Curacao orange peel, but occasionally other notes as well. The problem with the style as a rule is that when it's done wrong, the brew can get a touch soapy, which is rather unpleasant. Hoegaarden, however, avoid such pitfalls and just tastes like an unfiltered summer's day in Europe. Enjoy it with salmon!

Harissa Potato Salad

2009-05-08T18:51:00.000-07:00

INGREDIENTS:

3/4 lb. blue fingerling potatoes, boiled and then sliced into medium pieces
2 large celery stalks, minced
2 tbsp. white wine vinegar, divided
1/2 cup mayonnaise
2 tbsp. (or to taste, depending on spice preference) harissa
1/2 tsp. dried garlic
1 tsp. paprika
chopped celery leaves, to garnish
Salt and fresh black pepper to taste
----------------------------------
1 can 21st Amendment Hell or High Watermelon

1) Sprinkle one tbsp. of the vinegar on the freshly sliced boiled potatoes when still hot.
2) Whisk remaining ingredients in a bowl, adjusting flavors if necessary.
3) Stir into potatoes and serve.
4) Pop open can of Hell or High Watermelon.
5) Enjoy together.

THE BEER:
I have to be completely honest, this is a fantastic beer but a really difficult pairing--I mean to say, who puts watermelon juice in beer? And then, who buys it? And then, what the hell does it go with? Well, we happened to know for a fact that 21st Amendment Brewery in San Francisco, CA makes a fantastic vat of malt drink, so back in the day on the way to a Giants game or some such, we gave this odd brew what a friend of ours calls a taste-gander. Turns out it's phenomenal--balanced, not sweet, just a delicate hint of refreshing fruit on the nose and on the palate due to a secondary fermentation with fresh watermelon. Honestly, I don't know when I've ever had a better fruit beer, or one with a lighter touch. As a result, when we discovered that they now distribute the stuff in cans, we were delighted. Everyone pick up this beer when you can! It's lovely, and unique, and subtle.

Well, that left us with the pairing problem. How do you pair a watermelon beer? Turns out, you just drink it in the summer at a picnic and don't worry your pretty, sunstroked little mind about it too much. Now that the weather has finally turned and we're outdoors again, we're ready for action--a frisbee, a garden party, an open-air film. Potato salad is a classic summer side dish, so this slightly spicier version should treat you well paired with a cold beer in a foam koozie.

THE EVENTS:
I had my first book signing for Dust and Shadow at Otto Penzler's Mysterious Bookshop last Tuesday, and despite my severe fears on the subject, I neither forgot my name, nor Sherlock Holmes's name, nor the ability to make a joke, nor did I spontaneously combust, and I was duly shocked by all of those felicities. All my friends who could make it were there, and they bought a pile of my books and a bottle of Dom and made me cry. They're truly lovely.

All the press info I've been getting lately, reviews, signing schedules, etc., are over at my website. It's not related to food and thus perhaps uninteresting to some, but Sherlock Holmes does mention curry at one point, and blood sausage at another, and I'm pretty sure Watson has eggs for breakfast.

This is a picture of me looking deliriously happy because my book has finally been released, and all that time I feared they might just be kidding me. It would have been an elaborate prank, but nevertheless a possibility.

Sausage, Peppers and Onions in White Wine over Jerusalem Artichokes

2009-04-20T19:53:00.000-07:00

INGREDIENTS (serves 4):

(for the sauce)

1 tbsp olive oil
2 large links (1/2 pound) pork sausage, casings removed (we used naturally raised sundried tomato-chardonnay sausage from the Union Square farmers' market)
1 very large Spanish onion, sliced thin
6 cloves garlic, chopped rough
2 medium tomatoes, chopped
1 large Anaheim (mild bright green) chile (or any sort of bell pepper), sliced thin
1 tbsp. ground fennel
1 tsp. dried basil
1/2 tsp. dried thyme
1/4 tsp. cayenne pepper or to taste
1/2 cup dry white wine
1/2 tsp. honey or sugar
2 chives, white and green parts, minced
Salt and pepper to taste

1) Heat the oil in a large skillet and add sausage. Saute until thoroughly browned, breaking apart as the meat cooks, about 5 minutes.
2) Add onions and garlic. Sweat 5 minutes.
3) Add fennel, basil, thyme and cayenne and toast spices for about 30 seconds.
4) Stir in white wine, deglazing the pan and incorporating the browned bits. Add tomatoes and cover, turning heat down to low. Simmer covered for 10 minutes.
5) Add the peppers and cover pan again, simmering for 5 minutes.
6) Add sugar, salt, and pepper to taste when the sauce has thickened slightly and all the vegetables are tender, about 15 minutes covered total. Stir in chives.

(for the sunchokes)

1 pound sunchokes or Jerusalem artichokes, peeled and chopped, kept in a bowl of water with a large splash of citrus or vinegar to prevent discoloring
2 tbsp. olive oil
Salt and pepper to taste

1) Heat the oil in a heavy-bottomed or cast iron skillet until shimmering.
2) Add chopped, drained sunchokes to skillet and fry, turning approx. every 2 minutes, until browned and cooked through, about ten minutes depending on the size they were chopped.
3) Season with salt and pepper. Top sauteed sunchokes with the sausage-pepper sauce, garnish with chives, and serve.

(for the beer)
1 12-oz. bottle Peak Organic IPA

1) Open Peak Organic IPA.
2) Enjoy together.

THE BEER:
Peak is a hip little coastal Maine brewing company who use all organic hops and malts for their beer, and they do a fine job of it. I'm coming around to the fact (slowly, for a rabid liberal like myself) that "organic" beer and wine no longer means "tastes like the back end of a farm." (Ok, come on, it used to mean that whether you like it or not--free range eggs and produce were a little ahead of the Adult Beverage products, to my mind. And for the privilege of tasting Eau de Barndoor After the Horse Has Fled, you got to pay an extra 40% too! But that was SO 'nineties. The tables have changed.) Peak's Nut Brown Ale is a very tasty example of the style, so we were stoked to try this new concoction (made from only the happiest, best-adjusted plant life). They used Amarillo, Simcoe, and Nugget hops, but the real surprise here is how toffeelike and caramelized the malts are in the background. It's a very drinkable IPA, not too bitter, dry finish with a nice level of biscuity yeast, and very good on the palate with food.

THE ALEHOUSE:
We're back in business, baby! The period of mourning for our favorite West Side watering hole--named, so we could remember it easily, West Side Brewing Company--is over. And why? Because it's open again! Mr. Kirk Struble is once again slinging the malted hop juice on the UWS, with a name equally well calculated to prevent confusion: Amsterdam Ale House! Yes, it's on Amsterdam! Yes, Kirk still picks the beers (like the smooth operator Peak Organic IPA)! Yes, they still have bison! Yes, their nachos are still awesome! What more could we ask for? Here we are with Herr Struble last New Year's Eve, and yes, that's beer in our glasses, not a double espesso.

Shrimp Pot Stickers with Chinese Flowering Cabbage Greens

2009-03-26T11:16:00.000-07:00

INGREDIENTS:

(for the pot stickers--best served with a small side of gyoza dipping sauce)

20 gyoza wrappers
1/2 pound of raw shrimp, peeled, de-veined, and finely minced
4 tbsp. olive oil, divided
5 garlic cloves, minced or pressed
1/2 tsp. red pepper flake
2 inches of ginger, minced
2 scallions, chopped, white parts separate from green
1/2 lb. Chinese flowering cabbage greens, very finely chopped with stems
1/2 tsp. white pepper
Salt and fresh black pepper
1 tsp. agave nectar or other sweetener to taste
1/2 cup water

1) Heat 2 tbsp. of the oil until shimmering; add red pepper flake, ginger, garlic, and the white parts of the scallion. Saute until garlic and ginger are golden, about 1 minute on high heat.
2) Add flowering cabbage to your skillet along with salt and white pepper, cooking until greens have reduced and wilted, about 3 minutes longer. Place the cooked greens in a bowl with the uncooked green part of the scallions.
3) When greens are no longer hot, stir in your sweetener and adjust seasoning if necessary. Incorporate the minced raw shrimp thoroughly.
4) Lay out 1 gyoza wrapper and place approx. 1-1 1/2 tsps. of filling in the middle. Moisten the edge of the wrapper with water and fold the dry edge over into a closed half-moon. Seal by pressing small pleats into the unmoistened edge of the wrapper with your thumb and forefinger, setting the pot stickers aside one by one until all are filled.
5) Heat remaining two tbsp. oil, preferably in a 10-inch nonstick skillet. Your pan must have a close-fitting lid. When oil is hot, place pot stickers with seam-side up very closely together in a circle (they should be touching) and saute until bottoms are golden brown, about 3 minutes.
6) Add the water, tilting the pan so it's evenly distributed, and cover tightly, reducing heat to med-low. Cook the pot stickers until liquid is gone, 7-10 minutes. Remove lid and allow steam to escape, shaking the pot stickers free.

(for the Chinese flowering cabbage greens)

2 tbsp. olive oil
1/2 lb. Chinese flowering cabbage greens, chopped into 2-inch segments with stems separate from leaves
1/2 tsp. white pepper
1 tbsp. oyster sauce
Salt and fresh black pepper

(for the beer)

1 12oz. bottle Speakeasy Big Daddy IPA

1) Heat the oil until shimmering. Add the stems and cook for 3 minutes.
2) Add the leaves, white pepper, oyster sauce, salt, and black pepper. Saute until greens are wilted and stems are tender, about 2 minutes more.
3) Adjust seasoning and plate, along with the pot stickers.
4) Open Big Daddy IPA.
5) Enjoy together.

THE BEER:
A reviewer from Las Vegas on Beer Advocate had this to say about Big Daddy: "IPAs are a snob beer, but if you want friends to enjoy the flavors you're having then this is surely the gateway drug to the addiction." I wouldn't necessarily go so far as to call a beer type that was popularized by the East India Company tradesmen and sailors in the late 1700s snobbish--it seems to have been around for a while, and after all, it's beer--but the accessibility praise is accurate. Not only is this one of my favorite beers of all time, brought to us by the splendid Speakeasy Ales & Lagers of San Francisco, California (let it be known they are consistently outstanding), but it's drinkable even if you aren't accustomed to the IPA style. You're going to get a strong hop presence, along with some tropical citrus like pineapple, but this beer's elegance lies in its profoundly smooth finish. Great with almost any well-spiced, strongly flavored food, hardcore awesome with pot stickers.

THE NEIGHBORHOOD:
Three cheers for Chinatown! All the more because half the s&*! I don't understand! Seriously, I put things in my mouth when I was in Hong Kong that I couldn't identify if asked, "Animal, vegetable, or mineral?" My professional chef friend Jordan says whenever you simply cannot fathom what it is, it's taro root. I only wish he were right.

(Also, for the record, I would like to hereby state that whatever the gelatinous panna cotta-esque substance was that I ate at the dim sum place--the opaque brown-orange jello that tasted vaguely of hot dog--I pray to sweet baby Jesus we will never be reacquainted.)

Anyway, being in Chinatown makes me very happy because it reminds me of our trip to Hong Kong and Thailand--the picture above is actually a Bangkok market. New York's Chinatown is also one hell of a fine way to battle the economic downturn; they'll sell you massive fresh shrimp for $6.49/pound, and a one-pound bags of greens for a dollar, and Malaysian shrimp-and-pork jerky that tastes like meat candy. Mmm. Meat candy.

By the way, you aren't going to find Chinese flowering cabbage greens unless you're lucky enough to have a Chinatown or live in China. Or grow them yourself, of course. They're faintly mustardy but much milder than actual mustard greens--sort of like a spinach with really thick, tender stems. If you can't find them, I'd use spinach in this recipe, or cabbage, or a nice leafy bok choy.

Chicken Pepper Soup with Sweet Potato and Coconut

2009-03-21T15:41:00.000-07:00

INGREDIENTS (serves 6):

2 medium chicken breasts, cubed
2 tbsp. olive oil
1 inch of ginger, minced
2 garlic cloves, minced or pressed
3 large (mild) jalapeno peppers, minced
1 dry bay leaf
4 sprigs fresh thyme
1 medium onion, chopped
1 large sweet potato, cubed
1 large green bell pepper, cubed
2 ribs celery, chopped
1 carrot, sliced bite-size
4 cups hearty vegetable or chicken stock
1/2 tsp. ground cinnamon
1/4 cup coconut cream (not coconut milk--the sweet sticky stuff you use for pina coladas)
3 chives, diced
Salt and fresh black pepper

1) In a heavy soup pot, heat the oil until shimmering and add the ginger, garlic, onion, and jalapenos. Sweat for two minutes.
2) Add the sweet potato, carrot, celery, bay leaf, thyme, cinnamon, and vegetable stock, season well, and bring to the boil. Reduce to a simmer and cook for about 7 minutes.
3) Stir in the green pepper and chicken and simmer for another 6-8 minutes, or until the chicken is cooked through and the vegetables are tender.
4) Remove bay leaf. Add coconut cream and taste, adjusting salt and pepper as needed. Garnish with chives and serve, by itself for lunch or over rice for a heartier meal.

THE SITUATION:
It's too cold in my apartment for me to even think about beer. What you need when you're freezing your nuts off is spicy coconut soup. Hence the abbreviated posting--I'm wearing (apart from a dress and two sweaters) tights with socks over them and fingerless gloves a la Bob Cratchit. Those of you who know me might well argue, "But Lyndsay, you dress like Bob Cratchit every day. You always look like you just barely survived an encounter with a serial knitter. I mean, your daily appearance is...whimsical would be a diplomatic way of putting it." Yes, well, the effort at the moment is in the direction of comfort, not style, and it turns out that feeding lumps of coal to one's radiator has negligible effect on the temperature of the room.

See, the trouble is that the temperature outside is above the legal limit at which the building must turn the heat on. Meanwhile, it's March. In New York. The cat has been trying to burrow under things for hibernation purposes all day. T. S. Eliot was mistaken about which month is cruelest. Spring needs to get itself sprung, and fast.

Pappardelle with Artichokes and Rabbit Sausage Ragu

2009-03-18T18:34:00.000-07:00

1 package D'Artagnan Rabbit & Ginger Sausage (8.5 oz), casings removed
1 package fresh or dry pappardelle noodles (we used fresh mushroom-infused pappardelle)
3 tbsp olive oil
4 large shallots, minced
1 inch of fresh ginger, minced
4 garlic cloves, pressed
1 carrot, minced
1 celery rib, minced
1 14-oz. can diced tomatoes, drained and chopped, with juice reserved
2/3 cup dry red wine
5 large deli artichoke hearts (or use marinated), quartered
1 tbsp dried thyme
1 tsp. honey
2 fresh chives, green parts only, chopped
1/4 cup grated pecorino romano cheese, finely grated
Salt and fresh black pepper
------------------------------
1 22-oz bottle Pennichuck Shouboushi Ginger Pilsner

1) Heat the oil in a large skillet. Add all the rabbit sausage (without the casings) and fry until well browned, using a wooden spoon or heavy spatula to break meat into small pieces.
2) Add garlic, ginger, and shallots and sweat for 2 minutes.
3) Add carrot and celery, sauteing for approx. 5 minutes.
4) Stir in the dried thyme, red wine and the reserved tomato liquid and cook for ten minutes, stirring occasionally, until liquid has reduced to about 1 cup.
5) Add diced tomatoes, artichoke quarters, honey, salt and pepper, and cook another 10 minutes (covered, on a low simmer) until sauce is slightly thickened and well infused with all the flavors.
6) Meanwhile, cook pappardelle according to package instructions until al dente in plenty of salted boiling water. Drain the pasta.
7) Taste your ragu to adjust its seasonings. Return pasta to the pot and add sauce along with the grated pecorino romano. Garnish with chives, additional cheese and black pepper if desired.
8) Open Shouboushi Ginger Pilsner
9) Enjoy together.

THE BEER:
This was an interesting idea put forth by Pennichuck, a southern New Hampshire brewing company. Its execution was odd in that the pilsner doesn't really taste gingery--it's crisp and refreshing, but we expected such a dominant flavor additive to come through considerably more, without wanting it to be overpowering. When all's said and done, if you eat a ginger-based food with this beer, you may not be able to taste the ginger at all in the Shouboushi--however, the malts are nice and subtle in this particular pilsner and the overall profile is very drinkable. They certainly erred on the side of caution with this one, but there's probably something to be said for that; it's difficult to finish more than two sips of Rogue's Chipotle Ale without trying to dip a corn chip in it.

THE NOODLE HANGUP:
I'm not a stickler at all for the recommended pasta shape being an exact match, since there are so many variations to consider when deciding on a tasty tasty noodle, but there is one good basic rule to follow. Here we go...are you ready?

RULE: Serve thick, hearty sauces with thick, hearty noodles. Serve thin, delicate noodles with light, delicate sauces. Break this rule whenever and however you please.

Any questions about specific shapes and what in blazes to do with them? Find an excellent guide here.

In general, a ragu is best with a hearty shape, but that doesn't mean you have to run out and buy pappardelle* if you're staring into the pantry and it's causing you angst. Pasta is not about angst. Grab your dried package of lasagne noodles and break them into glorious uneven pieces. Yes, they do this in Italy when they feel like it and no one from the Sopranos is going to arrive at your house and break your kneecaps for Pasta Sacrilege.

*If you have time and/or are bored, run out and buy fresh pappardelle by all means. It's my favorite noodle. If you were to get me noodles for my birthday, I'd want fresh pappardelle noodles. My birthday is July 26th, and the best pappardelle noodles in the world are the mint-flavored ones with lamb ragu from my old workplace Osteria Laguna, pictured above.

Chicken and Root Vegetable Stew with Leeks

2009-03-06T22:10:00.000-08:00

INGREDIENTS (serves 6 easily):

4 chicken thighs, trimmed of fat and chopped into pieces
4 leeks, cut into large chunks
3 parsnips, cubed
1 sweet potato, cubed
1 large Yukon gold potato, cubed
2 tbsp. bacon fat
2 tbsp. flour
3 sprigs fresh thyme
2 bay leaves
6 cups chicken, duck, or goose stock (we used leftover goose stock, but that might not be just lying around--we know we're crazy)
1 15-oz. can unseasoned pureed butternut squash
1 tsp garlic powder
1 tsp. ancho chili powder
1 tsp. honey or agave nectar
Salt and pepper to taste
-------------------------------

1) Heat the bacon fat over medium-high and add the flour, stirring to form a nutty brown roux.
2) Add the stock, chili powder, dried garlic, squash puree, thyme, and bay leaves. Bring to a brisk simmer.
3) Add the parsnips and cook about 5 minutes.
4) Add the potato and sweet potato. Cook 5 minutes more, stirring occasionally.
5) Add the leeks and simmer 8-10 minutes until the large leek chunks are tender and the root vegetables are cooked. Season the broth with salt and fresh black pepper--it should have a fairly thick consistency, and lots of flavor.
6) Add the chicken thighs and simmer until tender and cooked through, about 5 minutes more depending on the size of the pieces.
7) Remove the bay leaves and the thyme stems--the leaves from the thyme should have all fallen off into the stew. Make sure it's seasoned to your taste.
8) Open Lagunitas Hop Stoopid.
9) Enjoy together.

THE BEER:
This is the sort of beer-drinking experience we love: someone (the brilliant lads at Lagunitas) has used so much hops, and have done it so deftly, that all you're confronted with initially is the taste of a tropical beach--pineapple, grapefruit, kiwi, apricot--until after you've savored it. Then you're left with perfectly balanced spruce and a touch of warmth. Stunning beer. Very strong. Good with stew.

THE ADVENTURE:
These are my Christmas shoes. Don't you just love my new Christmas shoes? Do you like them? Huh? Huh? Do you? Are they your favorite? Doesn't my mother-in-law pick stellar shoes? They're my favorite.

On the subject of cute shoes, my editor Kerri and I were talking about the dangers of wearing them (in the city, in the snow, skidding from hazard to hazard), and I realized that I'm much more cautious about the very present threat of falling on my face these days. Why, you may ask? Well, interestingly, this caution seems to have been engendered after I fell on my face last year, and the fact that I bit through my lower lip at the time really drove the message home. How did I slip and fall and bite through my lower lip, you might ask?

Four words: Amateur Female Jello Wrestling.

No, seriously. I'm not making that up.

So I'm wondering now whether for the rest of my life I'm going to be actively wondering whether it's a good idea to be walking with my hands in my pockets, etc., so as to avoid further damage to my face. I could wear flat shoes, I suppose, but--no, what am I thinking? No. So there I go, just a-walkin' down the street, and all the while my inner monologue is:

"My hands shouldn't be in my pockets. Should my hands be in my pockets? If I fall, what will hit the snow patch first? My nose? That would break my nose, yes? Should my hands be in my pockets?"

I can just see myself wearing these bad boys, hitting an ice patch in mid-March when I thought they were all melted, falling toward the pavement as I yell "Not the FACE!" Boom.

Fajita Feast

2009-02-20T14:05:00.000-08:00

INGREDIENTS:

(for the sides)

We served the fajitas with hot fresh flour tortillas, guacamole, pico de gallo, refried black beans, lime slices, fresh cilantro, crumbled white Mexican queso, and jicama salad, as well as the recipes that follow. Any combination of favorite sides will do, however, including radishes, chives, avocado, sour cream, etc.--the sky's the limit. You will certainly want to heat the tortillas, either in the microwave (we don't have a microwave) or over a very low gas burner, and wrap them in a clean towel to keep them warm. I can't recommend Rick Bayless's Arroz Verde recipe enough, and my own recipe for the purple cabbage slaw turned out way beyond my best-laid plans, but apart from those enthusiastically lauded sides, do as you will.

(for the beer)

22 oz. Troegenator Double Bock
22. oz Bear Republic Red Rocket Ale

(for the Sweet Corn and Cabbage Slaw)

1/2 a head of red cabbage, finely sliced
3 ears of sweet corn, kernels sliced off the cob
5 cloves of garlic, minced or pressed
2 shallots, minced
1 tbsp. olive oil
1/4 cup mayonnaise
1 heaping tsp. paprika
2-6 shakes (depending on spice preference) of Chipotle Tabasco sauce (not the regular kind--if all you have is the regular kind, substitute smoked paprika)
1/2 tsp. chili powder
1 tsp. agave nectar or white sugar
Salt and fresh black pepper

1) Heat the oil in a saute pan and add the shallot and garlic; sweat for 1 minute.
2) Add the sweet corn kernels and saute for 4-5 minutes, until corn is tender but still crisp. Set aside in a mixing bowl.
3) Add the red cabbage to the bowl, followed by the remaining ingredients. Toss thoroughly and check seasoning to balance salt, sweet, and spice flavors.

(for the Arroz Verde, slightly altered from Rick Bayless's Mexican Kitchen)

1 cup of white rice
2 poblano chile peppers, diced
12 springs of fresh cilantro, stems included, washed thoroughly
1 2/3 cups good quality salted chicken stock
1 tbsp. olive oil
1 small yellow onion, minced
2 cloves garlic, minced or pressed

1) Heat the seasoned chicken stock in a pot until boiling and add diced poblano; simmer uncovered for 5 minutes.
2) Put the chicken stock with the diced poblano and fresh cilantro sprigs in a food processor and pulse until very smooth. Set puree aside, wipe out the pot and return it to the burner.
3) Heat oil; saute the onion 2-3 minutes until sweated. Add the garlic and cook until toasted and fragrant, 1 minute more.
4) Add the rice and saute until the grains are opaque.
5) Pour the chicken stock and chile puree into the rice and bring to a boil. Cover and cook over very low heat for 15 minutes; fluff the rice with a fork to stir in any chile solids that might have accumulated on top, and serve.

(for the Fajitas)

3 breasts of chicken, pounded thin and sliced
2 red bell peppers, sliced thin
1 green bell pepper, sliced thin
2 large yellow onions, sliced thin
3 tbsp. tequila

(all the spices below should be mixed, and then divided evenly between the chicken and the vegetables in separate bowls)
2 tbsp. paprika
2 tsp. chili powder
2 tsp. ancho chili powder
2 tsp. garlic powder
2 tbsp. dried oregano
2 tsp. cumin
Salt and black pepper

1) Keeping the raw chicken separate from the vegetables, toss both with the spice mixture and plenty of salt and pepper in two large bowls.
2) In two large (heavy-bottomed or cast-iron works great) skillets, heat 2 tbsp. olive oil until hot but not smoking. Add the vegetables and the chicken to their respective pans.
3) Saute the vegetables over high heat until the peppers are sweated and the onions have lost their bite, about 5 minutes. Set aside on a serving platter.
4) Brown the chicken on all sides and cook until just tender, 5-7 minutes depending on thickness of the chicken. When the meat is nearly cooked, pour the tequila over it and scrape any brown bits off the bottom of the pan. Saute 1 minute more and then plate.

THE BEER:
Beer is de rigeur with Mexican food (comment dit-on "de rigeur" en Espagnol?), but--notwithstanding the existence of some stellar Hispanic brews like Dos Equis, for example--we didn't happen to have any south-of-the-border beer on hand. That was fine, because these two styles were great with fajitas and could stand up to the vibrant flavors. The Red Rocket is a killer high-hopped ale from California, with a mouthfeel on the lighter side, hints of lemongrass, sweet citrus, and bitter pine resin. It's from the geniuses at Bear Republic who brought us the Hop Rod Rye. Next on the list is a slightly richer, sweeter bottle, the Pennsylvania-brewed Troegenator Double Bock: you still get a good hop background to balance out the molasses-tinged malts, and this quaff goes down very smooth, leaving hints of chocolate and toast on the palate.

THE FEAST:
We've begun having dinner parties with Messrs. Brady Cooper and Mark Vincent Barlow--the last occasion was the Three Vegetarian Pizzas we posted. They arrive, we commence drinking, then chopping, then dicing, and finally eating--at around ten at night, as is natural and proper for supper in NYC. Fajita Feast was deemed a success, I think, since a poll taken of its participants over what we ought to cook next revealed an inclination simply to make more fajitas. By the way, Brady and Gabriel are serious guacamole contenders when apart, but combined, they're unstoppable. Recipe for aforemention guac deferred because they were both hovering over it, tasting it, and adding all manner of alchemical shit to it for half an hour, so no one has the slightest notion what it actually contained, other than magic.

Skate Wing in Rock Shrimp Caper Sauce with Blood Orange Brussels Sprouts

2009-02-13T10:14:00.000-08:00

INGREDIENTS (serves two--we also had roasted root vegetables tossed in butter and thyme):

(for the beer)
Brooklyn Winter Ale

(for the fish)
1 skate wing (about 3/4 to 1 pound)
Poaching liquid to cover: about 3 cups of fish stock, with seafood boil herbs added. Our mix includes mustard seed, dill seed, ginger, chili pepper, bay leaf, clove, allspice, celery seed, cinnamon and black peppercorn.

1) Bring liquid to a simmer and poach the fish, about 10-12 minutes; it's done when the flesh is opaque and begins to flake apart easily.
2) Divide skate wing in halves and plate.

(for the sauce)
1 1/2 cups fish stock
splash of white wine
1 oz. capers, minced
4 springs fresh parsley, minced
3 tbsp. butter
1/2 cup heavy cream
1/4 lb. rock shrimp
Salt and pepper

1) Simmer and reduce the fish stock, butter, capers, and white wine to a little over half a cup of liquid.
2) Incorporate the heavy cream and return to a simmer. Season with salt and fresh pepper.
3) Add the rock shrimp and cook until just pink; when they're pink, remove from heat.
4) Stir in fresh parsley and pour over the divided skate wing.

(for the Brussels sprouts)
1 lb. baby Brussels sprouts
2 tsp. olive oil
1/4 cup brandy
Juice of 3 blood oranges, some flesh reserved
1/2 cup balsamic vinegar
1 tsp. honey
Salt and fresh black pepper

1) Pour blood orange juice, honey and balsamic vinegar into a small sauce pot and simmer for about 20 minutes to reduce into a thick, delicious glaze. Depending on your balsamic, you may need to add more sweetener, as balsamics vary widely.
2) When the glaze is almost ready, heat the oil in a skillet over medium-high and add Brussels sprouts. As the outer leaves brown, add the brandy and scrape the bits off the pan. They'll be done in about 5-7 minutes--taste them to prevent overcooking.
3) Season to taste and toss with the glaze.
4) Open Brooklyn Winter Ale
5) Serve together

THE BEER:
We went with the Brooklyn Winter Ale for this one--can't beat $7.99 for a sixer at Whole Foods, at least not in New York. Even though Garrett Oliver is ridiculously dismissive and tends to "get his tweed undies in a twist," (source of quote shall remain nameless for his protection) over beers that are not to his liking, e.g. hoppy west-coast beers, he can still brew a mean beverage.

Okay, we weren't too wowed by this one on its own, but it did do a wonderful thing when combined with the dinner: it made them both better. The malt-forward sweetness and laid back hops played well on the tongue with the sweetness from the rock shrimp, roasted veg and the glaze of the brussel sprouts. I like me a little hops with something bold like brussel sprouts, and there was just enough bitter presence to hold up on that end as well.

Chili Beef with Broccoli and Oyster Mushrooms

2009-02-11T21:42:00.000-08:00

INGREDIENTS (serve this dish over white rice, brown rice, or rice noodles):

2 tbsp. olive oil
1 medium red onion, chopped large
6 garlic cloves, minced
3 dried red chilies, pounded into small flakes
1 small head broccoli, diced
1/2 pound sugar snap peas, trimmed and halved
1/2 pound king oyster mushrooms, sliced into 1/4 inch lengths
12 oz. beef round stir-fry strips
2 tbsp. soy sauce
2 tbsp. water
1 tbsp. oyster sauce
2 tsp. honey or agave nectar, or 1 tsp white sugar
2 heaping tablespoons Thai chili sauce (naam prik pow)
1/2 tsp. white pepper
Salt and fresh black pepper to taste
------------------------------------
Dogfish Head 90 Minute IPA

1) Heat olive oil in a large, heavy-bottomed skillet. Add dried chili to infuse with the oil, about 1 minute.
2) Add onion and garlic, tossing until garlic is toasted, about 1 more minute.
3) Add beef, oyster sauce, water, soy sauce, sweetener of your choice, white pepper, and Thai chili sauce. Saute about 3 minutes.
4) Add broccoli to the pan along with sugar snap peas and cook for 2 minutes.
5) Finally, add the mushrooms to the hot skillet and cook until just wilted and tender, about 2 minutes.
6) Taste the sauce and add salt or sugar if needed for balance, cracking fresh black pepper over all.
7) Open Dogfish Head 90 Minute IPA.
8) Enjoy together.

THE BEER:
Dogfish Head is at the forefront of East Coast craft brewing, and the sweet, malty richness of their 90 Minute IPA pairs great with anything spicy, anything influenced by Asian heat. The sauce for this dish was basically inspired by the Cashew Nut Chicken sauce I learned to make in Chiang Mai, but the white pepper gives the beef something to stand up against. Dogfish Head brewers are confident enough not to be afraid to experiment, and when they discovered that a flavor added continually during cooking evinces more nuances in the finished dish than if, say, you'd dumped two tablespoons of black pepper in a recipe right at the end rather than spicing it throughout, they knew they were on to something in the world of hops. This incredibly smooth, honeysuckle-sweet brew is the result.

THE ADVENTURE:

A Word to the Wise on the subject of Chili Lung:

AVOID CHILI LUNG AT ALL COSTS.

1) When adding dry (or fresh) chilies to a skillet of hot oil, do not hover over the skillet.
2) Should you happen to hover over the skillet, do not breathe in.
3) If you happen to inhale airborne essence of hot pepper while cooking, do not laugh, shrug it off, and continue on in the kitchen.
4) Open the window.
5) Run with all your speed.

Steve's Kidney-Punching Brisket

2009-02-09T21:18:00.000-08:00

INGREDIENTS (our thanks to Steve Sokolov for this killer recipe, for being such a good egg, and for never pressing charges when I punch him in the kidneys):

1 7-lb very marbled brisket

2 giant sweet onions

2 habanero peppers

6-8 cloves of garlic

½ gallon mango juice

Salt and pepper to taste

------------------------

Ninkasi Total Domination IPA

1) Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

2) Generously salt and pepper your brisket. Sear it in a stove-top safe roasting pan on all sides, browning well. Remove from pan and set aside.

3) Chop onion into large slices and add to the roasting pan with diced habanero (be careful, gloves would be a good idea) and chopped garlic. Cook about 5 minutes until onions are sweated.

4) Add the brisket back to the pan and fill half way up with mango juice. Place uncovered into the oven. You should have plenty of juice to spare. Throughout the cooking, as liquid evaporates, continue to add more juice.

5) Cook until the meat easily pulls apart with a fork, about five hours, flipping the brisket occasionally in the liquid if you feel the need.

6) Open Ninkasi Total Domination.

7) Enjoy together.

THE BEER:

Ninkasi makes good brew, and we only get our hands on it when we're in the Northwest--this one is quite resinous, just the way we like our IPAs, and a little bit toasty, with clear copper-grapefruit consistency. Awesome with brisket, that's a fact.

THE ADVENTURE:

We were homebrewing when made this brisket! It's a great meal to stick in the oven for four or five hours without really thinking about it, when you've got some sort of massive project going on in the garage, like cleaning your motorcycle or building a shelf or putting the finishing touches on your taxidermied elk, or best of all, making some beer. We would obviously have loved to pair our own beer with this brisket, but...well, it hadn't actually brewed yet, of course.

Eric Braddock (Gabe's sister's husband and a fine upstanding young gentleman) makes some stellar homebrews with Jordan Lehner and other promiment guest stars, and on this occasion we decided on a rye malt IPA, to which--I know, I went a little crazy with this notion--we added caraway seeds along with the hops. It's gonna be awesome. Pictured are men brewing beer while drinking beer, the dried Amarillo and Centennial hops that went into the Rye-P-A, and Penelope Rose Braddock inside a mash ton--she's learning to homebrew and already makes some pretty canny suggestions from time to time.

Pacific Northwest Seafood Feast

2009-01-17T11:51:00.000-08:00

INGREDIENTS: (serve the seafood feast with sliced French bread and green salad on the side)

(for the crab cakes)

2 large (2 1/2 lbs. weight each) Dungeness crabs, meat removed (about 2 lbs. crab meat)
1 shallot, minced fine
1/2 a celery stalk, minced fine
1/2 a red bell pepper, minced fine
1/8 tsp. cayenne
1 tsp. paprika
2 tbsp. mayonnaise
1 egg, beaten
5 drops Worcestershire sauce
Sea salt and black pepper to taste
3 tbsp. butter
3 tbsp. olive oil

1) Combine all the ingredients apart from the butter and olive oil in a mixing bowl and season to taste.
2) Form the crab cake batter into 12 patties and leave them in the fridge for one hour, covered. Chilling the crab will help it keep its shape when pan-fried.
3) Heat the butter and oil until just smoking over high heat and fry half the cakes, turning them over after about five minutes and cooking until each side is crisp and golden-brown. Repeat with the other six patties, placing the crab cakes on a paper towel to cool slightly.

(for the shrimp)

2 lbs. fresh shrimp, peeled and de-veined
1 14.5 oz. can diced tomatoes
1/2 white sweet onion (Walla Walla is great), chopped
5 cloves garlic, chopped
4 tbsp. extra virgin olive oil
1/2 tsp. red pepper flake
1/3 cup dry white wine
4 tbsp. minced fresh Italian parsley
Sea salt and black pepper to taste

1) Heat the olive oil and saute the onion, garlic and red pepper flake for approx. 5 minutes, until onion is translucent.
2) Add tomatoes and press with a slotted spatula to incorporate the tomato into the oil, cooking for 5-7 minutes more.
3) Add the wine and saute 2-3 minutes, until the alcohol has burned away partially.
4) Saute the shrimp until all sides are pink, and no longer. Remove from heat and stir in the parsley.

(for the Za'atar aioli)

1 tsp. garlic powder
1/2 cup mayonnaise
2 tsp. fresh lemon juice
1/8 cup extra virgin olive oil
1 tsp. honey
2 tbsp. Za'atar

1) Combine all the ingredients, whisking rapidly with a fork or wire whisk--alternately, combine in the small bowl of a food processor. Season to taste.

(for the beer)
-------------------------------
1 bottle Widmer Drifter Pale Ale

Open beer. Enjoy together.

THE BEER:
We were out with the infamous Messrs. Jim LeMonds and Larry Moorehead at Porky's, a fine beer purveyor in our hometown of Longview, Washington, and we sampled this on draft--it's surprisingly awesome. Widmer is a decent beer, but this is a great pale ale. It has lovely sweet red grapefruit notes, hardly any bitterness, and finishes with lush malt and tangerine tones. If you can get your hands on it, throw some back. We think it would pair fabulously with the fresh, sweet, savory seafood dishes we made for our feast.

THE ADVENTURE:
We're in Washington! The feast was chez Farber residence, and we ate fresh shrimp and crab until the shrimp and crab were no more. Dungeness isn't available on the East Coast as far as we know, and it's the best crab ever. Here's my mom and dad--you'll notice my dad happens to be holding an advance reader's copy of a certain book.

Breakfast Strata with Beet Greens and Gruyere

2009-01-04T08:51:00.000-08:00

INGREDIENTS:

1/2 your leftover day-old French baguette, cut into 16 1/2-inch rounds
3 tbsp. olive oil
1 3/4 cups half-and-half
6 large eggs
leafy greens from 3 large beets, washed thoroughly and chopped, stems removed
1 onion, minced
5 cloves garlic, minced or pressed
6 oz. (2 cups) grated Gruyere cheese
2 oz. grated Parmesan
2 tbsp Dijon mustard
1 tbsp brandy (optional)
---------------------------------
1 bottle Maredsous 10 Tripel from Brouwerij Duvel Moortgat NV

1) Heat the oven to 225 and bake bread slices in a single layer until completely dry and crisp, about 40 minutes, flipping them midway through baking time. Don't skip this step--it's vital to the texture.
2) Heat 2 tbsp. of the oil in a skillet and saute the onion and garlic until translucent.
3) Add chopped beet greens, season, and cook until just wilted, about 2-3 minutes. Place greens in a small mixing bowl when finished cooking and set aside. Some water will likely accumulate in the bowl--drain this, pressing greens with a spoon or spatula.
4) Oil the inside of a casserole dish with remaining olive oil.
5) Arrange half the bread slices in a single layer. Cover with half the beet greens, then half the cheese. Repeat with remaining bread, greens, and cheese.
6) Whisk eggs in a bowl; then incorporate 1 tsp. salt, pepper to taste, Dijon mustard, half-and-half, and the brandy if desired. Pour egg mixture evenly over bread layers, cover with plastic wrap, and leave in the fridge overnight weighted down with a box of sugar, bag of flour, heavy plate, etc. Don't skip this step either.
7) In the morning, let the dish stand at room temperature for at least half an hour, while heating the oven to 325 degrees. Sprinkle the Parmesan over the top, then bake strata until puffed and golden, 50-55 minutes. Cool 5 minutes.
8) Open bottle of Maredsous 10.
9) Enjoy together.

THE BEER:
One of Gabe's favorite beers, and one of mine as well, we got turned on to this sucker when I worked at the glorious Markt restaurant, which served (and still does today) only Belgian imports. What a great beer this is, and if you're having a festive brunch (I firmly believe that stratas require the presence of houseguests), what could be better than drinking a delicious, yeasty, pear-and-passion fruit nosed, 10% alcohol brew? Maredsous 10 is a little bit lighter in viscosity than you get from many other Belgian tripel styles, and a few people tend to take exception to this, but I think it's an asset. You get some caramel in the mouthfeel, but the alcohol is never present and it doesn't veer (as a few of these do) toward wondering after a sip whether you'll ever taste anything else again.

THE GLORY OF STRATAS:
So long as you follow the directions for the custard, which is based on a template from Cook's Illustrated (www.cooksillustrated.com), you can put literally anything you want in a strata. Cheddar. Asparagus. Ham. Shrimp. Smoked salmon. Red bell pepper. Herbs. Sausage. Snausage. Velveeta. Leftover roasted veggies. Pesto. Shrooms. Marijuana. Sky's the limit, kids.

THE HOUSEGUESTS:
Look who was here when we made strata! Josh and Brian! Hooray! We wandered around Christmas shopping and ate many, many Corner Bistro Burgers (pictured--finest burger in NYC, in our opinion), and sang songs with the hilarious piano player at one of the last, best, and oldest piano bars in the Village (Duplex), and generally made merry. Can't wait to visit them in Seattle, and cruise Pike's Place grabbing fresh things for Josh to cook for us.

Christmas Goose Stew

2008-12-28T14:59:00.000-08:00

INGREDIENTS:
(This recipe can be altered easily to use two leftover ducks, and slightly less well with one leftover turkey. If turkey is used, try to select as much dark meat as possible.)

FOR THE STEW:
Leftover meat reserved from one roast Christmas goose
4 oz. bacon, diced
2 tbsp. flour
1 tbsp. butter
1 onion
4 garlic cloves, minced
4 cups of goose stock (see below)
1 tsp. dried thyme
2 dried bay leaves
1 tsp. Worchestershire sauce
2 tbsp. brown sugar
1/8 tsp. nutmeg
4 carrots, chopped on the bias
5 small Yukon gold or white potatoes, cubed
5 sprigs Italian parsley, chopped
Salt and pepper
-------------------------------------
2 bottles Anchor Steam 2008 Christmas Ale

FOR THE STOCK:
1 goose carcass, picked fairly clean
1 onion, roughly chopped
2 carrots, roughly chopped
3 celery stalks, roughly chopped
2 garlic cloves, smashed
10 whole black peppercorns
4 springs fresh parsley
1 tsp. dried rosemary
1 tbsp dried thyme
2 dried bay leaves

1) Combine the goose carcass and all the stock ingredients, divided into two large pots if necessary. Fill pot(s) with water until the goose is just submerged. Bring to a boil and simmer for 1 1/2 hours covered, then continue to simmer for 1 1/2 hours uncovered. Strain stock through a colander into a large bowl and refrigerate overnight.
2) The next day, use a wide spoon to scrape the solid fat from the surface of the stock. (Reserve fat for other recipes--it's divine.) Stock may be somewhat gelatinous when cold. You will likely have more than the four cups needed for this recipe; freeze the remainder and save for other soups.
3) Place the diced bacon in a large soup pot or Dutch oven and set burner to medium-high. Cook until bacon is crisp and fat is rendered. Remove bacon to a paper towel-lined surface and turn off burner.
4) In a sauce pot, melt the butter over med-high heat until foaming subsides. Add the flour to the butter and stir quickly to form a roux. When the flour is a deep, nutty brown, slowly add a cup of the goose stock, whisking to form a liquid thickener. Turn off heat.
5) Return the bacon fat pot to heat and add the onion and garlic, cooking until translucent, about 3 minutes. Open one of the bottles of Anchor Steam Christmas Ale and pour it in, scraping any brown bits of bacon fond off the bottom of the pot with the liquid. Take the mixture of stock and roux and add to the pot, stirring constantly.
6) Add thyme, bay leaves, and the remaining goose stock. Bring to a boil. Cover and simmer for 40 minutes on low heat.
7) Uncover pot and add the Worchestershire, nutmeg, and sugar. Grind plenty of fresh black pepper, and add salt to taste.
8) Add potatoes and carrots and simmer the stew uncovered for about five minutes. Stir in the reserved goose meat and bacon and continue to cook until potatoes and carrots are tender. Garnish the stew with 3 tbsp. chopped Italian parsley.
9) Open the second bottle of Anchor Steam 2008 Christmas Ale.
10) Enjoy together.

THE BEER:
When you're using a beer to cook your meal, you can bet the same brew would pair well with the food. The Anchor 2008 is well-rounded and dark, the consistency of a porter, with hints of allspice, chocolatey malts, and sprucey hops. 'Tis the season to pair beer with goose! Huzzah!

THE ADVENTURE:

HOW TO PURCHASE A CHRISTMAS GOOSE:

1) Set the alarm for early Christmas morning.
2) Throw open bedroom window and stick head out.
3) Find an urchin. Shout down to him (or her) "What day is it?"
4) When the urchin replies, "Today? Why, today is Christmas Day!" throw the urchin a shilling and tell it to fetch a goose.
5) Await arrival of goose. When the urchin returns, don't forget to tip him or her for prompt service. (Note: this is the easiest way to procure a goose, and one of the most cost-effective. Recommended. If you live in a town without a large urchin population, see other options below.)

ALTERNATELY:

1) Go to the Upper West Side, to Fairway Market or Citarella.
2) Pay WAY too much money for a goose. (Put it on your credit card to get points. This will make you feel better.)
3) Carry goose home on the subway in a backpack.
(Note: this is simultaneously the most expensive and the most arduous way to purchase your Christmas goose. Not recommended.)

ALTERNATELY:

1) Find out where geese like to congregate nearest you. This could be the woods, Central Park, a nearby field, or even a friend's backyard.
2) Load rifle.
3) Shoot goose.
4) Pluck goose, then proceed with the roasting recipe of your choice.
(Note: this is the cheapest way to come by your Christmas goose, but it unfortunately involves the extra work of plucking and trimming the bird. It also requires that you possess accurate, steady aim.)

ALTERNATELY:

1) Get on the A train.
2) Go to Chinatown.
3) Ask for a goose. If they don't understand English, hold up the picture of the Christmas goose feast at the Cratchits' in your copy of A Christmas Carol. Point wildly at the image.
4) When the Chinese people still don't understand you, flap your arms at the elbow while turning in a circle. Honk vigorously.
5) After they have thrown you out, go to the next Chinese market down the block. Ask for two fresh ducks. Purchase ducks.
6) When you roast the birds on Christmas Day, post a guard at the entrance to the kitchen and allow no one inside. Plate the roast duck elegantly. When your friends exclaim, "It looks delicious! Is it duck?" smile benevolently and say, "There is nothing in the world as delicious as a slow-roasted Christmas goose."
(Note: this is an effective and inexpensive way to procure a Christmas goose. Be certain your kitchen guard can be trusted implicitly.)

ALTERNATELY:

1) Order take-out on Christmas Day. Tacos are nice. If you don't care for tacos, consider Beef with Snow Peas and Hot-and-Sour Soup.
2) Pay delivery man.
3) Eat take-out.
4) When asked how your Christmas dinner celebration went, and whether your goose was a success, adopt a dreamy expression and say, "There is nothing in the world as delicious as a slow-roasted Christmas goose."
(Note: this technique is fairly effortless, and lies in the lower range of cost. Recommended.)

Duck Breast with White Bean Puree, Blackberry Sauce and Endive Salad

2008-12-09T20:19:00.000-08:00

INGREDIENTS:

(Original recipes by Gabe all, so expect plenty of dashes, splashes, and handfuls of ingredients. ;-p)

DUCK COURSE:
1 duck breast (Mine was already marinated, but I wish it wasn't. I would have dry rubbed it w/ something delicious.)
1 tbsp. minced rosemary

1/3 cup no-crust 1/4 inch bread cubes tossed in dashes of cinnamon, allspice, salt and pepper
1/2 tbsp. bacon fat or butter

1 14 oz. can of white beans, rinsed
Pinch of chili powder
Pinch of cinnamon
Pinch of allspice
1 heaping tablespoon of tahini
Several tablespoons of extra virgin olive oil
Zest of 1 Meyer lemon

1/2 pint container of blackberries (pureed and strained through fine mesh strainer)
1/2 tsp. chili powder
Dash of cumin
Juice of 1 Meyer lemon
Dash of balsamic vinegar

ENDIVE SALAD:
2 Belgian endives
1 small shallot
Handful of arugula
1 Bosc pear
1/4 c. pine nuts, toasted

Juice of 1 Meyer lemon
A splash or two of balsamic vinegar
A drizzle of agave or honey
A tablespoon or 2 of extra virgin olive oil
Salt and pepper

1) Toast pine nuts until golden in a dry pan. Set aside for salad.
2) Toss the bread cubes w/ spices and place in a skillet on med. with butter or bacon fat (if you're the type of person to have bacon fat laying around) and brown, tossing occasionally. Reserve for duck.
3) Thinly slice endive and shallot and combine w/ arugula. Mix together the ingredients for the dressing. Reserve both separately until right before serving.
4) Cut and core pears. Slice into wedges, then place in pan with a bit of butter or oil and cook for 5 minutes on med-high heat until they start to turn golden. Right before you remove them from the pan, pour in a tablespoon or two of balsamic. It will absorb into, and add color to, the pears. Set the pears aside on the plates to be topped w/ dressed greens right before serving.
5) Pulse the blackberries in a food processor until smooth, press through a fine mesh strainer and mix juice w/ remaining ingredients. Reserve to drizzle on the duck plate.
6) Put rinsed beans, spices, and tahini in food processor, and start blending. Slowly drizzle in oil until completely combined and smooth, scraping down side if necessary.
7) Put the beans and lemon zest in a small pot, but wait to heat until the duck is resting after it has been cooked.
8) Place duck breast skin side down in pan on med-high heat. cook 10 minutes. Flip and cook on the opposite side about 8 minutes or until a thermometer reads 135-140. Tent w/ foil and set aside to rest about 5 or 10 minutes.
9) Heat beans. Toss salad w/ dressing and plate everything. Slice duck across the grain, place atop the beans, and sprinkle with minced rosemary.
10) Open the bottle (or 8) of Jolly Pumpkin/Nogne-O/Stone Special Holiday Ale.
11) Enjoy together.

THE BEER:
Dear God, this was a good pairing. This holiday collaboration is brewed with a 25% rye malt, white sage, juniper, and chestnuts, with very well-balanced pie spices and piney hop tones, so it went fabulously with the duck and rosemary white bean puree. A pairing worth remembering, and also a fine addition to our holiday beer lineup--not over-spiced, very balanced and full, bitter and sweet without ever getting syrupy, and as one blogger on beeradvocate.com put it, "packs enough of a punch to make some serious sea donkeys look like catches." Well, God bless us, and especially--at this festive and welcoming season of the year--the sea donkeys. God bless us, every one.

Spanish Lentils with Mushrooms, Chorizo, and Thyme-Scented Rice

2008-12-08T12:03:00.000-08:00

INGREDIENTS:
3 tbsp. olive oil, divided
6 oz. dry hot Spanish chorizo, diced into small cubes
1 onion, chopped
2 celery ribs, chopped
2 carrots, chopped
4 garlic cloves, diced
2 cups brown cap mushrooms, sliced
1 cup lentils of your choice--red, green, yellow or brown, soaked if necessary (small ones won't need it)
1 bay leaf
2 dry star anise pods
1 tbsp. paprika
1 cup white rice
1 tbsp. dried thyme
3 1/2 cups water, divided
Salt and fresh black pepper
------------------------------
Gouden Carolus Grand Cru of the Emperor

1) Heat 2 tbsp. of the olive oil until shimmering, and add spicy chorizo. Stir to brown, allowing chorizo to release some of its fat.
2) Add the onion, celery, and carrot and sweat for 3-4 minutes.
3) Add garlic, paprika and mushrooms and cook until mushrooms are just wilted, about 2 minutes more.
4) Add the lentils, along with the bay leaf, star anise, salt and pepper, and 2 cups of water. Bring the pot to a boil, then cover and simmer until the lentils are cooked. If the water is absorbed into the lentils before they are done, feel free to add more.
5) Meanwhile, heat the remaining tbsp. oil and saute the rice until opaque. Add thyme, salt and 1 1/2 cups of water, bringing to a boil; cover and turn heat to low for 15 minutes.
6) When rice is done and lentils are tender, spoon some rice over the lentils and serve with chopped fresh parsley, if desired.
7) Open Grand Cru of the Emperor.
8) Enjoy together.

THE BEER:
Whoa. This is the thickest bloody strong dark Belgian-style ale we've had in a spell of time. It's very sweet, like figs-and-dates sweet, with a deep mahogany purple color and not much in the way of carbonation. The alcohol, predictably for such a malty brew, is eleven percent, and unfortunately you can taste it in the finish along with a more pleasant hint of pepper. Plenty of raisin and clove here, all dark fruits and pie spices, not the most balanced beer we've ever tasted in our lives, but if you're into the strong Belgians and don't mind ingesting beer with a knife and fork, this Cru is for you.

THE MONSTER:
This is our monster; his name is Grendel. We just figured it was about time he made an appearance on the blog, since he spends a great deal of time in the kitchen, watching us cook from the top of his stepladder. This is his resting position. It's also his please-brush-my-spine position. Grendel has a lot of strong opinions about cooking, particularly when bacon, lunchmeat, or fried chicken are somehow involved.

Macaroni and White Cheddar with Artichokes

2008-12-04T19:03:00.000-08:00

INGREDIENTS:

8 oz. of small dry pasta (I prefer cavatappi)
3 tbsp. butter
3. tbsp. flour
2 cups milk
4 cloves garlic, minced or pressed, set aside in a small bowl
6 oz. shredded white cheddar
3 oz. shredded Gruyere
1/4 tsp. cayenne pepper
1/4 tsp. chili powder
14 oz. diced artichoke hearts
2/3 cup bread crumbs
1 tsp. dried parsley
Salt and pepper to taste
-------------------------------
12 oz. bottle Kasteel Cru Lager

1) Preheat oven to 350 degrees and grease a casserole or glass pie dish.
2) Bring a pot of salted water to a boil and cook pasta according to directions for its shape, being very careful to drain when just al dente, or still firm. Toss with a little oil to prevent sticking in the colander and set aside.
3) Melt butter over medium-high heat until foaming subsides; add flour, whisking quickly to form a roux.
4) When roux is golden and nearly done (about 2 minutes), add minced garlic, whisking constantly for about 20 seconds (the roux is extremely hot).
5) Carefully add the milk and bring to a simmer. Add cayenne and chili powder. Stir constantly.
6) When mixture has thickened slightly, about 4-5 minutes, add 3/4 of the shredded mixed cheeses, stirring constantly. When cheese has dissolved into the sauce, add salt or pepper to taste.
7) Add pasta to the saucepot along with artichoke hearts, and stir to coat.
8) Pour mixture into baking dish. Combine the remaining 1/4 shredded cheese with the breadcrumbs and sprinkle evenly over the top. Season with salt, pepper and dried parsley. Bake for 20 minutes or until top has formed a golden, crisp crust. Cool for 5 minutes, and serve.
9) Open Kasteel Cru.
10) Enjoy together.

THE BEER:
Kasteel Cru is a French lager--I know, I know, generally that's just an all-around terrible idea, akin to a vintage Jersey City pinot noir methode champagnoise, granted, calm down, settle yourselves. Crack one open anyway. It's brewed with Alsace spring water (largely irrelevant) and champagne yeast (surprisingly tasty and surpassingly refreshing). A great beer for a rich dish, and this sucker is comfort food.

THE NEED FOR COMFORT FOOD:
Thanksgiving was a blast, but as Fate would have it, Gabe and I spent the Monday and Tuesday prior watching plumbers tear out all the pipes in our kitchen and bathroom at our landlord's behest. Then on Wednesday we watched sewage drip through the hole in our bathroom ceiling onto our toilet, making the prospect of using it rather less than usually desirable. Thanksgiving Day (we're up to Thursday now, yes?) the emergency plumber arrived, but alas! was sent away by our charming upstairs neighbors, who are apparently very kinky and like to dump waste on people's heads, but semi-anonymously and without consent or bothering with ads in the Village Voice. That's right, they wouldn't let the man in. Well, at long last the problem was resolved, right after our landlord told our upstairs neighbors that if they still weren't in the mood to let in an emergency plumber, he was going to find himself in the mood to shut off their water. Sometimes moods align themselves like that, I suppose.

So on Thanksgiving, when we had twelve people at the apartment, what did we do? Gabe took a page from MacGyver's book and made a plastic drainage system, while I composed a sign stating WE ARE THANKFUL FOR INDOOR PLUMBING. BATHROOM IS SANITIZED; IGNORE CEILING. And we made merry anyway. Purple doesn't look as merry as she could in that last picture, but that's just because she didn't know the camera was on.

Three Vegetarian Pizzas

2008-11-22T09:32:00.000-08:00

INGREDIENTS:

This dough recipe makes 2 pizza crusts; for four, make two separate batches in the food processor. We didn't bother to buy a pizza peel--instead, find a rimless cookie sheet, and be careful about pulling the pizza off the stone, since the cookie sheet lacks a handle.

FOR THE DOUGH (loosely adapted from Cook's Illustrated, March 2007):
1 1/4 tsp. instant yeast
1 cup water, room temperature
2 3/4 cups whole wheat pastry flour
1 1/2 tsp. table salt
2 tsp. sugar
Cornmeal, for dusting

1) Whisk the yeast into the water until dissolved.
2) In a food processor, blend sugar, flour, and salt until combined, about 5 seconds.
3) With machine running, slowly add liquid through feed tube, processing until dough forms a sticky, satiny ball that clears the sides of the workbowl, about 2 minutes or less. If dough remains too dry, add 1-2 tbsp. extra water.
4) Divide dough in half and form into smooth, tight balls. Place on floured surface at least 3 inches apart, and cover loosely with plastic wrap sprayed with olive oil or nonstick cooking oil. Let rise until doubled in volume, approx. 1 hour.
5) Adjust the oven rack to the lowest position. Set a pizza stone (they're 20 bucks at Bed, Bath and Beyond) on the rack, and heat the oven to 500 degrees, allowing stone to heat through, at least 40 minutes.
6) When dough has doubled, dust with flour and move to smooth work surface dusted with the cornmeal. Press one ball into an 8-inch disc, then gently stretch it with flattened palms into a 12-inch circle. Sprinkle the rimless cookie sheet with more cornmeal and transfer dough circle to cookie sheet.
7) Add toppings of choice.
8) Slide pizza onto hot stone and bake until edges are crisp and brown, 12-18 minutes depending on your oven. Peek at them, and when they look right, remove from the oven with the cookie sheet and place on a breadboard to slice.

FOR THE TOPPINGS:

Pizza con Verdure:

1) Tomato sauce, simmered until relatively dry and spread thinly.
2) Four-cheese blend, sprinkled evenly.
3) Sliced red bell pepper.
4) Sliced sweet white onion.
5) Quartered fresh yellow cherry tomatoes.
6) Red pepper flake, to taste.
7) Sliced fresh basil, added after baking and just before slicing.

Pizza with Pumpkin, Shittake, and Thai Choo-Chee Sauce:

1) A cup of coconut milk, simmered with Thai Choo-Chee paste curry base (according to package or to taste). After curry paste is blended into coconut milk, add 1 tbsp. fish sauce, 1 tsp. sugar, and salt if necessary. Cook curry on low until it thickens into sauce consistency, and spread over pizza.
2) Sliced pumpkin, sauteed with butter until cooked through.
3) Sliced shittakes, sauteed with butter until wilted and tender.
4) Sliced green onion.
5) Chopped toasted peanuts.
6) Fresh beans sprouts, if desired.
7) Chopped fresh cilantro, added after baking.

Pizza with Pecans, Gorgonzola, Dates, and Rosemary:

1) 2 cups shredded mozzarella cheese.
2) 6 ounces crumbled Gorgonzola or other blue cheese.
3) 6 ounces minced dates.
4) 3 springs of fresh rosemary, minced fine.
5) 2/3 cup toasted pecans, minced.
6) Fresh grated nutmeg.
7) Cracked sea salt.

--------------------------------
Southern Tier Krampus Imperial Helles Lager; Dogfish Head Palo Santo Marron Malt Beverage; Elysian Bifrost Winter Ale

THE RULE:
If you're cooking pizza, you best be drinking some beer.

THE BEERS:
Where to start? It was a party, so the usual tasting rules don't apply. The Krampus is a beautiful amber-colored, deep, hoppy lager, with 9% alcohol that you quite simply can't taste, this beer is so smooth. Strong grapefruit (not too bitter, though) caramel, and pine. The Palo Santo is a crazy rich, brown concoction with 12% abv. brewed in handmade Paruguayan Palo Santo wooden vessels--vanilla, dark malt, and toffee. Bifrost is a very drinkable winter brew, with a heavy body and a nice orange peel/coffee lingering bitterness. Tasty stuff. All three are good beers, and we drank them with pizza. No further pairing explanation necessary.

THE REVELERS:
This here is Gabe and his co-worker Brady, testing the acidity of the tomato sauce (or something like that). And to their right is One-Punch Hernandez, alias DeathLisa, who can break your spine just by looking at it. Her fist really is that big compared to her face, by the way--you might think it's depth of field in this shot, but that's an optical illusion. Her fist is on an even plane with her jaw. She has hands the size of Les Grossman from Tropic Thunder, which she brought to the party to prove to us that she isn't the only one with meat paws of this heft. There are others.

Croque Madame

2008-11-16T11:23:00.000-08:00

INGREDIENTS (for four people):

3 tbsp. unsalted butter
2 tbsp. unsalted butter, warm
3 tbsp. flour
2 cups whole milk
1/4 tsp. salt
1/4 tsp. fresh black pepper
1/8 tsp. fresh grated nutmeg
1 1/2 cups coarsely grated white cheddar cheese
8 slices sandwich bread
1 tsp. garlic powder
1 tsp. dried thyme
1 tsp. dried oregano
4 tsp. Dijon mustard
1/2 pound thinly sliced honey or maple turkey
4 large eggs
-------------------------------------------
Mimosas

(Salad is optional, but did you know your main course contains fewer calories when accompanied by a small salad or side of greens? Well, it does. That's science. This recipe is *liberally* adapted from a March, 2007 offering in Gourmet magazine.)

1) To make the sauce, melt 3 tbsp. of the butter in a heavy saucepan over low heat, then whisk in the flour and cook roux until golden brown, about 3 minutes. Whisking constantly, slowly add milk and bring to a boil; continue to whisk occasionally at reduced heat for 5 minutes. Add the salt, pepper, nutmeg, and 1/2 a cup of cheese and whisk until cheese has melted into sauce.
2) Remove sauce from heat and cover directly with wax paper to prevent it forming a skin.
3) Spread 1 1/2 tbsp. of the sauce over 4 slices of bread, then sprinkle evenly with remaining cheese.
4) Spread mustard on other 4 bread slices, topping with the turkey. Combine both kinds of bread to form sandwiches.
5) Spread half the warm butter on the top of the sandwiches, adding half the garlic powder, thyme and oregano. Toast the sandwiches butter-side down in a warm skillet while spreading the remaining butter and spices on the other side. Flip and toast until golden on both sides, 3-4 minutes total.
6) Preheat the broiler. Spread remaining sauce on top of the sandwiches, coating evenly. Broil for 2-3 minutes, until sauce is bubbling and golden in spots.
7) Crack eggs into a heated skillet and season them with salt and pepper. Fry eggs, covered, until the whites are set but the yolks still runny, about 3 minutes. Top sandwiches with eggs, and serve with a light salad to reduce the calories in the sauce.
8) Open bottle of champagne and pour into flutes with 2 oz. orange juice. Enjoy together.

THE BEVERAGE:
All right, all right, it isn't a beer. But you know something? We're a big fan of beverages in general, particularly effervescent beverages, and those belonging to the category our friend Mark terms "sauce." Mimosa is one hell of a tasty sauce, and since we were having brunch, after all, the usual beer evaluation was deferred for next time. (I should point out here that Gabe will readily tell you, if you ask him, that the ideal brunch pairing of all time is a draft glass of Leffe Brun and a plate of blueberry pancakes.)

THE GUEST:
We happened to be entertaining a Canadian diplomat when this brunch took place; there's Nicole Joy-Frasier (wife of Jeff Teerlink, if you follow Longview, Washington's Flemish exchange student culture) on the couch. She had a very successful week at the Native Theater Festival downtown at the Public, and here we feature her in slippies, sipping a hot and comforting beverage. The back of Lisa Hernandez's head is showcased to great advantage by her teal v-neck, as I smugly anticipate the moment when she realizes Gabe is about to swing onto her back from the chandelier.

Sesame Chicken Salad with Napa Cabbage

2008-11-05T13:13:00.000-08:00

INGREDIENTS:

1 small head of Napa cabbage, sliced thin
3 spring onions, white and green parts, sliced thin
1 large chicken breast, cubed
2 tbsp. olive oil
1 1-inch piece of fresh ginger, minced
1 tbsp. sherry
1 package of Top Ramen (chicken flavor)
1 tbsp. tahini
1 tbsp. sesame oil
2 tbsp. soy sauce
1 tbsp. rice vinegar
1 tsp. brown sugar
Black pepper to taste
--------------------------
Rogue Double Dead Guy

1) Toast the Ramen noodles, crumbled into small pieces, until golden brown and combine with the cabbage and spring onions in a large salad bowl.
2) Heat the olive oil in the same skillet and add minced ginger and chicken. Saute until browned and chicken is tender and cooked through. While skillet is still very hot, add the sherry to the pan to scrape up any browned bits and ginger remaining. Reserve this liquid in a small bowl.
3) Add to the sherry and ginger the last 6 ingredients listed, and whisk into a dressing along with the chicken seasoning from the Ramen package. Toss with the salad and serve.
4) Open Rogue Double Dead Guy.
5) Enjoy together.

THE BEER:
Double Dead Guy is a "strong ale" from Rogue, and interestingly enough, despite their reputation for extreme beers, this is a pretty mellow copper ale. It has a nice, floral and honey nose with very low bitterness. It's drinkable, not memorable, and despite its marketing it's certainly not a doppelbock style. The taste is good, but it didn't stand up to the bright flavors of the salad ideally. Drink this beer with the knowledge you'll get a smooth, chill brew and not much else to say about it.

THE ELECTION:

We are so proud of our country, and so proud to be Americans. This video is footage of our neighborhood, on 160th and Amsterdam, just after the major networks announced Obama's victory. Everyone grabbed their biggest pots and loudest spoons and poured out of their apartments to dance in the streets. All the cars going past were rolling down their windows, honking and cheering, while a bunch of Dominican schoolkids raced up and down the street waving American flags. The resolution isn't so hot, but I'm in the hat and the yellow dress.

Then this morning I was flipping through a slideshow on Huffington Post about reactions to the election and I found this picture. It's a shot of the Obama campaign site on 52nd and Spruce in West Philadelphia, where I canvassed all day last Saturday. I tell you something--when you knock on somebody's door in an all-black suburb, and the next house down is abandoned because sometime in the last week it was strafed in a drive-by, and they're giddy at the prospect of voting--that's powerful. Yes, we can, people. Yes, we did.

Winter Risotto with Sweet Potato, Brussels Sprouts, and Blue Cheese

2008-11-04T12:01:00.000-08:00

INGREDIENTS:

1 large sweet potato, cubed small
10 oz. Brussels sprouts, chopped
1 carrot, chopped
6 oz. Danish blue cheese, crumbled
2/3 cup Arborio, Carnaroli, or other risotto rice
2 tbsp. olive oil
1 shallot, minced
5 cloves garlic, minced or pressed
3 tbsp. chopped fresh rosemary
Approx. 2 cups chicken stock, more if needed
Salt and pepper
----------------------------------
Bear Republic Brewing Co. Hop Rod Rye

1) Heat olive oil in a medium pot. Sweat shallot, carrot and garlic until fragrant, about 1 minute.
2) Add sweet potato and rice to the pot and toast for 2-3 minutes until rice is slightly translucent.
3) Add chopped rosemary and half a cup of chicken stock and stir constantly until the stock is absorbed.
4) Continue to add stock, half a cup at a time, stirring constantly and adding more when the liquid is nearly absorbed into the rice. It should take approx. 13-15 minutes for the rice to be cooked as the liquid is incorporated; if more liquid is needed, add more stock or water.
5) When the rice and sweet potato are nearly cooked (after about 10 minutes), add the chopped Brussels sprouts.
6) When rice is tender but still slightly firm in the center, add blue cheese and season to taste. After the cheese has melted in, spoon into bowls.
7) Open Hop Rod Rye.
8) Enjoy together.

THE BEER:
Oh, yum. Caraway and dark, sticky notes from the 20% rye used in the malt, a very well-balanced caramel sweetness against bitter orange rind hops, and a hint of fresh bread yeast. Bear Republic is in Healdsburg, California, and damn do they ever make a fine beer. If you're a fan of the rye IPA style (and when it's well done, it's one of our favorite beers of all time), this brew gets it exactly right. There's a reason this beer has won major gold and silver medals in festivals and competitions. Pairing a rye IPA (especially one of this magnitude and bittersweetness) with ANYTHING to do with blue cheese is a very, very good idea.

THE ADVENTURE:
You know what? Risotto is Italian comfort food, and comfort food is what's needed when the weather turns all crispy, and the leaves begin to fall, and you start grabbing a pashmina on your way out the door. No adventure here, kids. Predictably delicious, toothy, wholesome, and all around good. I (Lyndsay) used to work at a great Italian place called Osteria Laguna, and that's where I learned of the glories of risotto. Our chef Christina (an eighty-pound Venetian with a Rambo-style hair kerchief) made glorious risotto--beet and gorgonzola risotto, smoked mozzarella risotto, shellfish and tomato risotto, and it was always giddily perfect. The woman makes freaking beautiful food. I can't cook risotto like she can (I also can't yell nearly as loudly or project her levels of utter scorn), and so I salute her! She lives in Berkeley now with her wife and baby, but here she is posing like a rock star by our pizza oven and antipasto bar.

Chicken Mulligatawny, Cauliflower with Fenugreek, and Scented Rice

2008-10-24T14:27:00.000-07:00

All recipes in this posting are from the book Ajanta: Regional Feasts of India by Lachu Moorjani. His curries require an output for Indian spices to start with, but the dishes are authentic, amazing, and you will make a ton of them. We are even planning on dining at his restaurant when we visit the Bay Area.

The other picture is of our Nashville cousins. Aren't they genetically fortunate? Left to right, I present Shari, Bradley, Bailey and Madison. Shari was visiting us here in NYC for this Indian feast, so I thought it only right to introduce them formally.

INGREDIENTS:
Chicken Mulligatawney (slightly altered from book):
3 tbsp. oil
1 inch piece ginger, chopped
6 - 8 cloves garlic, chopped
3 dried red chili peppers, broken in pieces
3 onions, cut in quarters and thinly sliced
1 1/2 lbs. boneless skinless chicken breasts, cut into 1 inch pieces
2 potatoes, peeled and cut into 1 inch cubes
2 tsp. coriander powder
1 tsp. turmeric
2 tsp. poppy seeds
1 tsp. paprika
1/2 to 2 tsp. hot chili pepper powder
2 1/2 tsp. fennel powder
2 tsp. black peppercorns
1 1/2 tsp. cumin powder
1 1/2 tsp. salt
13.5 oz. can coconut milk
1/2 cup water
1/4 cup curry leaves
2 tbl. lime juice
1 tsp. Garam Masala

1) Heat the oil in a 6 to 8 quart saucepan. When hot, add ginger, garlic, and chili peppers. Fry for 10 to 15 seconds.
2) Add onions and saute over med-high heat, stirring every 2 to 3 minutes, until slightly brown, about 10 minutes.
3) Turn to high heat. When pan is hot, add chicken and stir until all the chicken pieces are nicely browned. Continue browning until most of the moisture has evaporated.
4) Add cubed potatoes and all the spices; cook for 3 to 4 minutes. Add coconut milk and water, bringing the mixture to a boil. Reduce heat and add curry leaves, then cover and simmer for 20 minutes, or until the chicken is tender. Mix in lime juice and Garam Masala to finish.

Cauliflower with Fenugreek:
1/4 cup oil
6 to 8 cloves garlic, chopped
1 inch piece ginger, peeled and chopped
2 onions, chopped
3 tomatoes, chopped
2 tsp. cumin powder
2 tsp. hot chili pepper powder (substitute all or part w/ paprika to make the dish mild)
3 tsp. coriander powder
1 1/2 tsp. turmeric
1 1/2 tsp. salt
3 tbsp. dried fenugreek herb
2 potatoes, peeled and cubed into 1 inch pieces
1 1/2 lbs cauliflower, cut into florets
1 cup frozen peas
2 tbsp. lemon juice

1) Heat the oil in a 6 quart saucepan. When hot, add garlic and ginger. Fry for 10 to 15 seconds. Add onions and saute for 8 to 10 minutes over medium high heat, stirring occasionally.
2) Add chopped tomatoes. Stir and cook for 5 minutes. Add all the spices, salt and dried fenugreek. Stir and cook for another 2 to 3 minutes.
3) Add potatoes and cook partially covered for 7 to 8 minutes, stirring every 2 to 3 minutes. Add cauliflower and continue cooking, covered, over medium heat for about 20 minutes, stirring every 3 to 4 minutes. If there is too much moisture, cook with lid removed. If there is too little moisture and the vegetables start to stick to the bottom of the pot, cover and reduce the heat. Continue to cook until the vegetables are tender, adding the peas for the last 4 minutes of cooking.
4) Add lemon juice.

Rice with cardamom and cinnamon:
1 cup basmati rice
1 1/2 cups water
1 tbsp. oil
1 tsp. cardamom seeds
1 stick of cinnamon

1) Heat oil in a pot until shimmering, then add cardamom seeds. Cook for 30 seconds. Add rice. Toast rice for 3 to 4 minutes, until aromatic and opaque.
2) Add cinnamon stick and water, bringing liquid to a boil.
3) Cover and reduce heat to low. Cook for 15 minutes covered, then fluff with a fork.
4) Open He'brew Lenny's RIPA.
5) Enjoy together.

THE BEER:
A spectacular rye-based double IPA, He'brew's Lenny's RIPA is brewed, to quote its makers, "with an obscene amount of malts and hops," and is "the straight dope for the growing minions of our nation's Radical Beer junkies." Sign us up! They're on to something. In addition to being brewed with Warrior, Cascade, Simcoe, Crystal, Chinook, Amarillo, and Centennial hops, it's later dry-hopped with Amarillo and Crystal. Thus you get great pine and citrus in the nose, followed by thick, malty sweetness for mouthfeel. This is beer that drinks like a meal--a rich, 10% alcohol treat with hints of pumpernickel, toffee, grapefruit and pepper. Indian food has big flavors, and this beer can go three rounds swinging.

THE ADVENTURE:
Shari-Lynn Sample and her fine upstanding young man Robb were visiting us the last time we made this dish! Just look at them. I stole their picture from Shari's myspace page. Aren't they cute? Isn't it kinda sick? Cousin Shari is one of our favorite houseguests, whenever she visits, because she's definitely pretty enough to take outside and show to your friends, and she can walk all day, and she's super fun and nice, and she's friends with Grendel Puss-Gato, and you never know when she'll fall asleep. It's like an endearing form of narcolepsy. Awesome. And this time she brought Robb, so that's a major bonus.

Sweet Potato and Quinoa Salad

2008-10-16T19:40:00.000-07:00

This beautiful (if I do say so myself--don't you just want to put your face in it?) salad was inspired by a similarly simple recipe in Donna Hay's gorgeous Off the Shelf: Cooking from the Pantry. We changed several elements, but a shout out to Donna in any event; her food is visually striking, healthy, and simple. Woot woot!

INGREDIENTS:
1 cup quinoa
1 1/2 cups vegetable stock
2 sweet potatoes, peeled and cubed
1/2 pound green beans, trimmed and chopped
2 tbsp olive oil
2 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
1 tsp. Thai roasted chili paste OR harissa OR Italian red pepper tapenade
1/2 cup chopped fresh mint
1/4 cup lemon juice
1 tbsp. honey
Salt and fresh black pepper
-------------------------------
Avery Brewing Company's Ale to the Chief American Pale Ale

1) Pre-heat oven to 375 degrees and line a baking sheet with foil.
2) Toss cubed sweet potato in the regular olive oil, seasoning if desired. Roast the potato on the baking sheet in the oven, uncovered, for 30-45 minutes depending on how large your cubes are. Remove from oven when cooked through and well browned, and set aside in a large bowl.
3) Place quinoa in a mesh sieve and rinse thoroughly--there is a substance called saponin that coats the outside, and can taste bitter if not rinsed off.
4) Combine quinoa and vegetable stock in a pot and bring to a boil. Cover, reduce heat to low, and simmer 20 minutes until water is absorbed.
5) While quinoa is cooking, blanch green beans in boiling salted water until tender and bright green. Rinse with cold water and set aside with sweet potatoes.
6) Combine the last five ingredients, along with salt and pepper to taste, in a small mixing bowl or dressing shaker.
7) Fluff the quinoa and add it to the vegetables. Toss with the dressing.
8) Open Ale to the Chief.
9) Enjoy together.

THE BEER:
This beer is gorgeous. It's a lovely pumpkin orange color when poured, with resiny hops balanced by caramel-cereal malts. They brewed it as a special tribute to the lucky man who replaces Still-President Bush in November, and what a fine gesture it is! The floral sweetness rocks with the slightly spicy dressing of the salad, and the pine-bitter finish does well by the honey-tossed quinoa. Ale to the Chief indeed, and may he sip this fine vintage for solace while sitting in the Oval Office pondering how to get us out of this small fiscal snafu.

THE NOBLE QUEST IN YOUR PANTRY:
Donna Hay's books inspire great one-dish meals that can come together using practically anything in your refridgerator and shelves. Of course, I AM assuming that your refridgerator contains more than ketchup, Pabst, and month-old celery, but really, this recipe would work just as well with a can of chickpeas instead of sweet potatoes, rice instead of quinoa, and chives for mint. Go to town. Actually, no--don't go to town. That's the point: stay at home. You've ingredients enough.

THE AGONIZING ANTICIPATION:
Can we just vote tomorrow and know which guy Ale to the Chief is hailing? Would it be ok to corrall all the "Undecideds" at this point and build a nice compound for them where they can wander around trying to decide whether or not to take a shower, or whether they prefer to wear socks on their hands or their feet, or whether they should keep breathing? Vote for whomever you want. Seriously. But can we just get it over with now? Listen: you have two options. There's an old white conservative and a young black liberal. There you go. As Dave Sedaris put it, being undecided right now is like having this conversation on an airplane:

FLIGHT ATTENDANT: Hi. Would you like the chicken, or the pile of excrement with shards of glass in it?
UNDECIDED MAN: Hmm. Well, how is the chicken cooked?

Seriously, what are these people waiting for? Do they want McCain to come over to their house with Joe the Plumber and clear their clogged toilet? Do they want Obama to bring Bill Ayers to their backyard and punch him in the face? Are they waiting for either candidate to come back triumphant from an epic quest to find George Bush's Magic Wand? Do they know the Magic Wand doesn't exist???

My head hurts.

Spicy Turkey Corn Soup

2008-09-28T17:02:00.001-07:00

INGREDIENTS (can easily be halved, as this makes a *very* large batch, suitable for freezing part or serving to around 8-10 guests):

1 pound raw turkey breast meat, OR 1 pound leftover turkey meat--either way, diced bite-size
2 oz. (1 link) hard Spanish-style chorizo, diced small
2 tbsp. olive oil
1 large onion, diced
2 celery stalks, diced
1 carrot, diced
1 red bell pepper, diced
6 cloves garlic, minced or pressed through a garlic press
2 medium tomatoes, diced
3 ears fresh corn, shucked and cleaned
2 large yellow (Yukon gold is nice) potatoes, cubed
6 cups good chicken stock
1 tsp. dried thyme
2 bay leaves
1 heaping tsp. turmeric
2 tbsp paprika
1 tbsp smoked Hungarian sweet paprika (can substitute regular paprika, totaling 3 tbsp.)
1 tsp. cayenne pepper
1 tsp. red pepper flake
1 tsp. chipotle pepper power
1 tsp. chili powder
1 tbsp sugar or agave syrup or honey
1 tbsp rice or white wine vinegar
Salt and pepper
--------------------------------
Oskar Blue's Breweries' Dale's Pale Ale

1) Cut the ends off the fresh ears to provide a flat surface and stand them upright, shaving the kernels off. I get about 5 total knife strokes per ear.
2) Heat the oil and cook the diced chorizo until crisp and its fats are released, about 3 minutes.
3) Add onion, celery, and carrot, stirring until sweated, 4 minutes.
4) Add garlic and cook 2 minutes more.
5) Add tomatoes and all the dry spices and herbs, toasting for 2 minutes.
6) Stir into thickened sofrito and spice mixture the potatoes, red bell pepper, and chicken stock. Bring to a boil; then cover and simmer gently for 10 minutes.
7) When potatoes are nearly done, add corn and either raw or leftover turkey. (If using diced raw turkey, I suggest adding it with the corn because it will poach in the boiling liquid only briefly, not getting tough. If using leftover turkey, feel free to add it at the outset to enrich the stock.)
8) When corn and turkey are cooked and tender (about 4 minutes), turn off heat. Add sweetener of choice and vinegar, adjusting to taste and adding salt and pepper as needed.
9) Open Dale's Pale Ale.
10) Enjoy together.

THE BEER:
I think Dale's Pale Ale is about the best drinking canned beer around. It's super hoppy; they add Centennial hops after boiling, so the nose is very herbal, and it tastes as much like an IPA as it does an American Pale Ale. Nice rich copper malts and a killer finish. All in all a great beer, and how rocking is it that it comes in a can?

THE POWER OF SOUP:
Soup rocks Lyndsay's world. Soup is delicious. There's hardly anything she likes quite as much as eating soup. There will be many more soup offerings to come in this blog, she suspects. Tremble at the forbidden delights of bisque and chowder! Feel the might and the glory of soup.

Thai Basil Beef with Chili Rice

2008-09-18T12:26:00.000-07:00

Serves four--by the way, the ground beef can easily be replaced with ground pork.

INGREDIENTS:

FOR THE BEEF:
1 1/2 lbs. ground beef
1 white onion, chopped
4 cloves garlic, minced or pressed
1 lb. fresh green beans, trimmed and cut bite-size
3 tbsp. nam pla or Thai fish sauce
3-4 tbsp. fresh lime juice
2 tbsp. soy sauce
1-2 tbsp. brown sugar
1/2 tsp. to 1 tsp. (to taste) ground white pepper
1 bunch fresh Thai basil OR regular basil OR (despite the title of the recipe) mint works well, chopped rough

FOR THE RICE:
1 cup white rice
1 tbsp. olive oil
1 tomato, diced
1 onion, diced
1 tbsp. naam prik pow or Thai chili paste
1 3/8 cups chicken stock
1/8 cup fish sauce (you should have 1 1/2 half cups liquid total, combined in a measuring cup)
1 small bunch fresh chives, minced
------------------------------------
Stone 08.08.08 Vertical Epic Ale

For Beef:
1) Mix the fish sauce, lime juice, and soy sauce in a bowl with the brown sugar. If you desire more sugar, add to taste. Set aside.
2) Heat oil and cook the onion until sweated, 2-3 minutes. Add garlic and cook until fragrant, about 30 seconds.
3) Place ground beef in pan and saute over gentle heat 10-15 minutes, stirring and breaking constantly, until all the beef has cooked.
4) Drain any excess liquid.
5) Raise heat to med-high. Add the beans and the liquid and stir frequently, allowing the beans to cook until tender and bright green as the liquid absorbs into the beef.
6) When beans are done and liquid absorbed (more or less), turn off heat. Add the chopped fresh Thai basil and sprinkled white pepper, stirring both into the beef.

For Rice:
1) Heat oil and sweat onion, 2-3 minutes.
2) Add tomato. Cook until most of the liquid has been lost, about 5 minutes.
3) Add white rice and Thai chili paste to pot and stir (adding a little oil if necessary) until rice is opaque and coated with the other ingredients, 3-4 minutes.
4) Pour liquid into rice and stir, bringing to a boil.
5) Cover and cook for 15 minutes with the heat on very low.
6) Fluff before serving, incorporating the fresh chives.
7) Open Stone 08.08.08 Vertical Epic Ale.
8) Enjoy together.

THE BEER:
So Stone is doing ten years of beer, all to be tried in a vertical tasting on 12.12.12. They are all different and created to age. Sadly I've only been collecting since 06.06.06; so, I'll be missing the first four. This years was a delicious hoppy Belgian-style beer. The aromatics had some notes of strawberry with a light pine scent. On the palate you really get the floral and berries from the belgian yeast, but the citrusy hop flavors really cut through the banana. The florals and hop bite really balance out well against the strong Thai spices and the richness of the beef. The licoricy notes of the Thai basil accented the hops nicely.

THE ADVENTURE:
I (Lynds here) want to point out a potentially deadly activity when cooking both the beef and the rice dishes, to be avoided with all your power as you would avoid a Tijuana street dog who seems to have just brushed his teeth and finds water disturbing.

--Generally salt your onions while they're sweating? Don't.
--Like to put a bit of salt in the beef as it cooks? Not this time.
--Feel tempted to salt the green beans as you add them? Eat a Lay's.
--Often salt your rice before popping the lid on? DROP IT. Put the little girl with the umbrella down. Nice and slow-like. That's it.

See, we're dealing with fish sauce here. We're actually dealing with quite a bit of fish sauce, and whenever that happens, oversalting is as easy as breathing. So just don't touch the salt until the end, when you taste both. If they need salt, knock yourself out. Or amp the soy sauce a notch, which is also nice. Thai cooking is very heavily influenced by the Chinese.

THE FAMILY:
Jerry and Gail were here when we made this dish! Huzzah! We had a great time wandering through NYC steadily eating and drinking things, which is what generally happens when we have guests in town. Gail has two new dresses, a closet of shoes, and Jerry found an Italian suit for $45. I tell you, it's worth the price of a plane ticket for the shopping out here. Look at them. They dressed up all pretty for the 50th Street subway station. (It was for a Broadway play with my friend Mackenzie in it, actually, A Tale of Two Cities, but they look much more industrial-couture urban-decay chic in the subway. All formal wear looks better in the subway.) Anyway, we had a great time. I don't know when Gabe missed his parents more profoundly: when they left, or when he went to take a picture of the twice-baked potatoes without Jerry's new camera and SLR lens.

Broccoli-Cheddar Twice Baked Potatoes

2008-09-16T20:21:00.000-07:00

INGREDIENTS:
(The parenthetical amounts are completely guessed at. The written amounts are how we actually cook, throwing in whatever's in the fridge and the cupboards. But Lyndsay thought people wouldn't make this without measurements. So I put some in there just for you ~~anal~~ careful folk. Remember, have fun with cooking.)

Two medium sized russets
A handful of sharp white cheddar, grated (1 cup)
A similar amount of diced broccoli (1 cup)
A decent splash of milk (2 tbsp.)
Mustard powder to taste (1/2 -1 tbsp.)
Some chopped chives (2 tbsp.)
Two pinches of cayenne
A tiny splash of apple cider vinegar (1/2 tsp.)
A little extra-virgin olive oil (1 tsp.)
A sprinkling of paprika
Salt and pepper to taste
----------------------------
Red Hook ESB

1) Preheat oven to 375 degrees.
2) Wash, poke several holes, then oil potatoes. Put in oven on foil lined baking sheet until cooked, about 45 minutes-1 hour. A fork will pierce them easily when done.
3) While potatoes are cooking, steam broccoli 1-2 minutes, remove, rinse in cold water, and squeeze out extra liquid. Finely dice.
4) Remove potatoes from oven, let cool enough to handle, then cut off the top 1/4. Scoop out the insides except for a 1/4 inch shell all around.
5) Put shells back in oven to crisp while mixing the stuffing. (No more than 15 minutes.)
6) Mash potatoes (dice the skin if you'd like to include it), then combine with the remaining ingredients. Remove shells from oven and stuff. Return to oven for 20 minutes, turning oven up to 450 during the last five to brown if necessary.
7) Top with more chives and paprika if desired.
8) Open Red Hook ESB.
9) Enjoy together.

THE BEER:
Red Hook ESB is not amazing, but it is a nice, solid session beer. It has good caramel malts and finishes with just a hint of the hops near the back of the palate. We thought the subtle sweetness would match well with the simplicity of a baked potato. Also, Red Hook ESB and Long Hammer IPA are only $6.99 a sixer at the grocery right below our apartment, that never hurts.
That's one of the few good things about our grocery store. They must be compensating for the inedible meat products.

THE SHOUT-OUT:
This post is dedicated to our good friend Lish, who requested more veg options. Nice one, Lish. We enjoyed it. Requests rock, and we're not sad there isn't any meat in this latest invention. (It would taste even better with BACON. Shhhh.) But nice one, Lish. Good on ya.

This recipe would be great for a lunch, or a nice light dinner with a side salad. Feeds two.

Simple Paella

2008-09-07T15:20:00.000-07:00

INGREDIENTS:

2 tbsp. olive oil
3-4 oz. (2 links) Spanish-style hard chorizo, halved and sliced
8 oz. cleaned raw shrimp, thawed or fresh
2 onions, chopped
8 cloves garlic, chopped
1 celery stalk, chopped
2 red bell peppers: one chopped, one minced
1 14.5 oz diced tomatoes (Muir Glen is best), minced, liquid reserved separately
1 cup chicken stock
8 oz. frozen (or fresh!) green peas
1 cup long-grain white or basmati rice
8-10 strands of saffron
3 tbsp paprika
1 tbsp cayenne pepper (optional)
1 1/2 tsp. dried thyme
2 bay leaves
Salt and pepper
-------------------------------------
Legacy Midnight Wit

1) You should have about 3/4 cup tomato liquid from the can; place this in a large liquid measuring cup. Add chicken stock (about 1 cup) until your total liquid comes to 1 3/4 cups. Set aside.
2) In a wide skillet, heat oil and saute chorizo until the edges crisp and the oil is colored with chorizo spices.
3) Add garlic, and saute 1 minute.
4) Add celery, onion, and minced red pepper, stirring until softened, about 4 minutes.
5) Add diced tomatoes, saffron, cayenne, paprika, thyme, bay leaves, salt and pepper. Cook for 2 minutes, stirring frequently.
6) Add rice to skillet and stir constantly 3-4 minutes, to season rice and brown it in oil before the liquid is added.
7) Add the combined tomato juice and chicken stock. Add chopped bell pepper and bring the mixture to a boil, scraping any bits off the bottom.
8) Cover and reduce heat to low, cooking for 15 minutes.
9) Uncover and add peas and shrimp to the cooked rice. Stir to incorporate, re-cover, and leave at low heat for 2-3 minutes, just until the shrimp have turned pink and the peas are tender.
10) Open Midnight Wit.
11) Enjoy together.

THE BEER:
Drinking one now, just to remember right.... Lyndsay says foamy. And also, soap (a common [but not {necessarily} bad] ailment of the wit bier style)... lemon... bready... dried coriander... unripe apple. The citric notes cut very effectively through the richness of the chorizo, and the floral yeastiness complements the saffron, garlic and shrimp. Mmmmm.

P.S. Lyndsay (with serious reservations and spelling adendums) wants to make it clear that Gabe wrote this section.

THE VACATION THAT WILL NOT LET ME LIVE IN AMERICA IN PEACE:
I love America. I love America so much that I will stand flat-footed in front of you and say that Portland, Oregon is the Vice Beer Chancellor to Brussels, Belgium's Commander-in-Brew (and yes, we have been to both Belgium and Germany, and Germany gets Secretary of Heady and Pleasant Frosted Steins as Lofted by the Barrel-Shaped.) So when Gabe and I went to Barcelona, Spain, I expected to enjoy myself. I did not quite expect it would ruin me on everywhere else. Here's an example of a typical day in Barcelona:

11:00 am: Waken. Wonder whether to have Spanish or Catalan food for lunch.
1:00 pm: Have Spanish or Catalan food for lunch.
2:00 pm: Remove the champagne flutes Gabe purchased on the second day from his bag, and taste a new variety of cava (methode champagnoise Spanish sparkling). Drink outdoors. Laugh that no one can stop you. Laugh along with the locals who are laughing at you for drinking out of a glass champagne flute outdoors because no one can stop you.
3:00pm-7:00 pm: Stare at Gaudi exhibits and Modernista art.
9:00pm: Decide whether to eat Spanish or Calatan food for dinner.
& etc., etc., etc.

So the point has been made, and Spanish food is just bloody excellent, and making it (especially in this way simplified yet very tasty fashion) makes me want to go back to Spain. Except...then where would I find delicious beer?

Spanish beer: NOT OK. Some palatable lagers, but how good can it be when half the time you're mixing it with lemon tonic water?

Suffice it to say that the pairing of non-Spanish beer with Spanish food shouldn't daunt us. And if you get a chance, go to Barcelona. And then stay there.

Baked Shells Stuffed with Spinach and Goat Cheese

2008-09-07T14:34:00.000-07:00

INGREDIENTS:

6 oz. (about 1/2 a box or 20 shells) jumbo pasta shells, cooked al dente

FOR FILLING:
2 tbsp. olive oil
14 oz. goat cheese
1/2 cup toasted dry breadcrumbs
2 eggs
3 cloves garlic, minced
12 oz. fresh spinach, stems removed and finely chopped
1 tbsp. dried oregano
1/2 tsp. ground nutmeg
1/2 walnuts, toasted and minced
Salt and pepper

1) Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
2) Heat the olive oil and cook garlic until it releases its aroma, about 1 minute.
3) Add spinach and saute, removing from heat when spinach is wilted and bright green, approx. 2 minutes more.
4) Stir hot spinach and garlic into goat cheese in a medium bowl--the spinach should melt the cheese enough to soften.
5) Incorporate remaining ingredients, season to taste, and set aside.

FOR SAUCE:
2 tbsp. olive oil
1 14.5 oz. can diced tomatoes
1 16 oz. can tomato sauce (for both of these, I prefer Muir Glen brand)
8 cloves garlic, chopped
1/2 tsp. red pepper flake (more if desired)
1/4 cup vodka
1 tbsp sugar
1 cup whole milk
Handful fresh basil, torn
Salt and pepper
----------------------------------------------
Boulder Beer Company Cold Hop

1) Saute garlic in the heated oil until slightly browned, about 2 minutes.
2) Add tomatoes, tomato sauce, pepper flake, sugar, and vodka.
3) Simmer the sauce while stuffing the cooked shells with the pasta filling, stirring occasionally, about 10 minutes.
4) Add milk to sauce. With a hand or standing blender, puree about half the sauce and return it to the pot.
5) Season to taste (the salt will balance the sugar), and add basil off heat.
6) Line a casserole, jelly roll pan, or baking dish with the stuffed shells. They should nestle closely. Cover with the vodka sauce.
7) Tent with tinfoil and bake for 20 minutes.
8) Open Cold Hop.
9) Enjoy together.

THE BEER:
Beers coming out of Colorado, long a bastion of the microbrew community, can tend toward the daring or the mainstream at will. This one happens to lean in the latter direction, but it's still a good beer--the combination of English-style malts and cold hops isn't nearly as daring as it might sound, but it does taste very mellow and refreshing on the palate. Not a lot of bitter hops, but the floral quality melds very nicely with the golden, full flavor profile of British malts. It's clean, it's high gravity, it's not something you necessarily want to serve with a pasta this rich, but in the end we liked the simplicity of the well-balanced brew (even though it finished rather swiftly) with the acidity and savory cream of the pasta.

THE ADVENTURE:
Moments of great alarm abounded for me during this seemingly calm Italian comfort food recipe, which I--Lyndsay--really did write myself. I was super proud that I came up with it, and then the shadows fell over the darkening world. Moments of quiet, stationary (we only have a one-bedroom apartment) panic ensued. Terrifying, soul-searching, agonizing moments like:

What if the cooked pasta sticks together?
Answer: toss it in a little olive oil, or EVOO as that Food Network gnome puts it.

What if there isn't enough stuffing for the shells??
Answer: throw some shells away. And calm DOWN. Really, what do individual shells cost? 10 cents?

What if I die from salmonella after tasting the stuffing to see if it's well seasoned???!?
Answer: how many times have you tasted raw cookie dough, you smacktarded dumbass? Also, if one were more intelligent than I am, one could taste the pre-egg confab and get a pretty damn close guess.

I hope this little Q&A settled any fears or doubts you may have about this recipe, which is really very satisfying and could serve four with a side salad, as written.

Berkshire Pork Chops with Green Beans, Homestyle Potatoes, and Sweet Pan Sauce

2008-08-27T09:31:00.000-07:00

INGREDIENTS:

FOR THE PORK:
2 Nieman Ranch Berkshire Black pork chops (preferably 1 1/2 inches thick, mine were only just over 1)
2 tbsp. goose fat, or other high heat oil
1/4 cup salt
1/4 cup brown sugar
6 cups water

FOR THE SAUCE:
2 plum tomatoes
2 small minced shallots
2 cloves garlic
2 tbls. balsalmic
1/4 cup bianco vermouth
dash of agave syrup or sugar
Salt and pepper

FOR THE BEANS:
3/4 pound green beans
1/4 onion, minced
3 cloves garlic, sliced
1 tsp. olive oil
Salt and pepper

FOR THE POTATOES:
1 large red potato, julienned
1/2 onion, thinly sliced
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 tsp. dried thyme
1 tbsp. goose fat
Salt and pepper
----------------------------
Green Flash Le Freak

For Potatoes:
1) Heat goose fat.
2) Add julienned potatoes.
3) Cook over medium to med-high heat until potatoes brown, about 10 minutes.
4) Add onions, minced garlic, thyme, salt & pepper.
5) Cook until onions are done to your liking.

For Green Beans:
1) Cut trimmed green beans on the bias into thin slices. (This is great for making large, tough beans more tender.)
2) Heat the oil and cook onions and sliced garlic for 2-3 minutes until translucent.
3) Add beans and cook for a few minutes until crisp-tender and bright green; season to taste.

For Pork Chops:
1) Mix salt and sugar in a gallon zip-lock bag with the water.
2) Add pork chops and brine for about 1 hour. (Maybe slightly more, but not less.)
3) Preheat oven to 450 degrees, with a baking sheet on the bottom rack.
4) Remove pork chops, pat dry, and season.
5) Heat goose fat in pan until smoking; add pork chops, browning 3 minutes each side.
6) Place pork chops on heated baking sheet to finish cooking in the oven, until meat thermometer reaches 125 to 127 degrees.
7) Remove, tent, and let rest for about 5 minutes.

For Pan Sauce:
1) Add minced shallots and garlic to pork pan; cook for about thirty seconds.
2) Add 1/4 inch diced tomatoes and balsalmic, cooking for 1 minute.
3) Add bianco vermouth and scrape bottom of pan to remove all browned bits.
4) Reduce liquid in pan by half.
5) Garnish pork immediately with potatoes, green beans, and pan sauce, and serve.
6) Open Le Freak.
7) Enjoy together.

THE BEER:
A crazy beer. It blends Belgian yeasts with big west coast hops... not an easy task. The flavors will often clash like a Euro-American showdown over a Burberry sale rack. Both give off strong herbal notes, but banana and bubble gum rarely blend well with straw and pine sap. They actually go very well together, but it's like drinking two different beers at the same time. First the hops nose, then you taste and get the malty spice, followed up by the bitter IPA finish. I wouldn't have paired this with pork except that the pan sauce was a sweet balsalmic reduction, which I thought would stand up to this beer. This beer, however, might just be enjoyed most on its own, savoring the subtle undulation between styles.

THE WORK INVOLVED: Lyndsay here, and let me just say that one- or two-pot meals are really my cup of tea, lacking a dishwasher as I do, and being in my soul of souls the kind of (lazy) person who figures it all tastes good in a dogpile together anyway, right? Gabe is a lot more likely to make separate sides, separate sauces, separate fish and meat courses for God's sake, so this was all him. It's a Tuesday night meal for the ambitious, or the second-date hosting, or the rabid brining enthusiast, and to my mind a fine-ass spread for American fare small-scale dinner party. Pork chop and pan sauce recipes were stolen with shameless pride and affection from America's Test Kitchen (linked through our site, or pick up The New Best Recipe).

Thai Cashew Chicken

2008-08-25T10:49:00.001-07:00

INGREDIENTS:

2 medium boneless, skinless chicken breasts cut into small pieces
1 red onion, sliced thick
1 carrot, sliced thick on the bias
5 cloves fresh chopped garlic
1 generous bunch chives, chopped
1/2 cup cashew nuts
2 tbsp. dried red chili
2 tbsp. soy sauce
1 tbsp. oyster sauce
3 tbsp. good chicken stock
2 heaping tbsp. Thai roasted chili paste (naam prik pow)
1 can water chestnuts
2 tbsp. cooking oil
salt and fresh pepper to taste

Accompaniment: white jasmine rice
-----------------------------------
24 oz. Sierra Nevada Harvest Fresh Hop Ale, 2007 Edition

1) Heat cooking oil, preferably in either a wok or a cast iron skillet for high heat.
2) Add minced garlic and dried chili and cook 1 minute.
3) Add chicken and brown on all sides.
4) When browned, add soy sauce and oyster sauce to season. Cook 2-3 minutes.
5) Add carrots, onion, water chestnuts, and chicken stock, stirring occasionally.
6) When vegetables are tender and chicken is cooked through, add cashews and 2 large tablespoons of naam prik pow. Stir into sauce, which should thicken nicely.
7) Turn off heat and combine with fresh chives.
8) Serve with white jasmine rice.
9) Open Sierra Nevada Harvest Fresh Hop 2007.
10) Enjoy together.

THE BEER:
The 2007 is the 11th Edition of Chico, CA based Sierra Nevada's Harvest Fresh Hop annual line. What the hell? Why the devil would anyone age a beer with "Fresh Hop" in the title? Well, when 24 oz. is lingering at the back of Morton Williams, and miss-marked for $3.50 instead of $5.99, that's when you drink a year-old fresh hop beer. The hops still emit a nice woodsy/marijuana hop aroma, very herbal, and the hops on the palate veer toward the pine end of the spectrum. Still some nice malts in there, good caramel color, and beyond worth the asking price.

THE ADVENTURE: First of all, I learned this recipe at a cooking class in Chiang Mai, Thailand, and the sweetness goes like gangbusters with a nice hoppy brew. Finding naam prik pow may sound like an impossible and tiresome quest to folks who lack neighborhood Thai grocery stores, but I'll just pass on the advice given me by my Thai cooking instructor. "Let's say I live in the States, and I run a Thai restaurant, and you come ask me where you can find naam prik pow. What am I going to say to you?? NO!?" (Maniacal Thai laughter--which for the record doesn't come off as very evil.) So, um, they'll probably hook you up at your local Thai joint, because it's an essential ingredient.

The Midnight Salad

2008-08-24T00:18:00.000-07:00

INGREDIENTS:

1 large vine-ripe yellow tomato
6 fresh basil leaves
1 tbsp. extra virgin olive oil
1 tbsp. aged balsamic vinegar
cracked sea salt and pepper
-----------------------------------
22 oz. He'brew Jewbelation Eleven

1) Cut tomato into bite size pieces.
2) Chiffonade the basil.
3) Drizzle olive oil and Balsamic vinegar.
4) Add sea salt and cracked black pepper to taste.
5) Open He'brew Jewbelation Eleven.
6) Enjoy together.

THE BEER: First of all, it's from He'brew, which is made in Saratoga Springs, NY and is the ale/other category of the Shmaltz Brewing Company, whose lager beers fall under the Coney Island label. It's dark, velvet chocolate with a good dose of coffee, brown sugar, vaguely smoky, not too strong on the tobacco end, with hints of fruit (primarily prune) and just a tiny trace of tar. Very meaty, strong beer, which Gabe matched with an acidic, vinegar-lightened dish. Why? It tastes delicious. The darkness of the beer was offset by the strong light tones of the salad.

THE ADVENTURE: It can be a dicey proposition, one fraught with self-recrimination and heartache, to pick a tomato when There Be Bandits About. After all, they know you want the ripe tomato. The thieves long for the same heightened flavor. They will wait until the last moment possible, just before you pick it, and abscond with your tomato. They will not look back. Except to check for other near-ripe tomatoes. Oh, sure, you could pick an unripe tomato. You could also buy hydroponically-genetically-fundamentally-spiritually altered tomatoes from the great tomato beds of Mars, and eat them after they've gone through re-entry. But why do that? One's timing must be perfect to preempt these Lawless Community Gardeners.

THE RECIPE IS GOD-AWFUL SIMPLISTIC BUT DELICIOUS: Also, it was a literally post-midnight snack. One does what one can, after all. And the tomato was begging to be picked. If I'd been a Tomato Bandit, I'd have marked it days ago as "ripe" for the "plucking."

Our departed Belgian comrade in beer drinking (he didn't die--he has merely determined to live in Belgium) left us with some lovely Delirium Tremens glasses, from which the He'brew done got drunk from when it got drunk. Forgive us. We just watched Tropic Thunder.