Lucky Mike's The Good Life

April 2, 2011June 4, 2011

52 Foods Week Thirteen: Grapefruit

Is there anything better than 85° weather in March? The sun came out this week and had us lounging outside most waking hours. Davis’ Picnic in the Park, which kicked off two weeks ago, finally had proper weather, and we were so busy enjoying the warmth that I almost forgot to find this week’s food. Fortunately, with minutes to spare, I came across a stack of grapefruits that looked promising.

I really have never understood eating grapefruit. In my mind, citrus should be sweet, and covering fruit in sugar to make it so seems like an indulgence ill-suited for breakfast. All the same, I’ve come to realize that the properties I dislike in grapefruit as a food—bitterness and astringency—make it a complex and rewarding ingredient in cocktails.

When the sun comes out, I long for nothing more than a swimming pool and a refreshing drink. I am happy to lie poolside for hours on end, with an occasional dip to cool off. While Davis has an abundance of pools, few to which we have access have opened yet. I wanted to come up with a cocktail that reminded me of the poolside experience.

To capture a sunny day at the pool, I reached for ingredients that each evoke a sensory experience from a day spent swimming and sunning. Grapefruit provides the astringent dryness of chlorine on the skin.

Meanwhile, mint conjures the bracing feeling of jumping into cool water.

Using slightly sweet, gold rum as a base, I mixed 2 parts rum with 1 part freshly squeezed grapefruit juice. Then, in a cocktail shaker, I muddled mint leaves with a bit of sugar and a few dashes peach bitters.

I shook all the ingredients with plenty of ice to get it nice and cold. When it came time to strain the cocktail, I poured it into a salt-rimmed glass; a reminder of the most ubiquitous flavor of a hot day at the pool: a line of sweat on the upper lip.

The finished cocktail was light and refreshing, with a great balance between salty, bitter and sweet, a pleasing companion to a hot day. Unprompted, my wife said it tasted almost chlorinated, in a good way. Mission accomplished.

The Pool Deck Cocktail:

2 oz. gold rum
1 oz. freshly squeezed grapefruit juice
6-8 mint leaves
1/2 tsp. sugar or 2:1 simple syrup
2 dashes peach bitters
Salt for rim of glass
1 sprig of mint for garnish

Dip edge of cocktail glass in grapefruit juice then salt to completely cover rim.

Muddle mint leaves, sugar and peach bitters in cocktail shaker until sugar is dissolved. Add rum and grapefruit juice and shake vigorously over ice. Pour through a fine mesh strainer into salt-rimmed glass, stopping just below salt line. Garnish with a sprig of mint.

Take a look at all the photos here.

March 26, 2011June 16, 2011

52 Foods Week Twelve: Collard Greens

A few weeks ago, Capay Organic was blowing out collard greens for a dollar a bunch, because “no one cooks collard greens.” While I almost always get collard greens when I eat at Southern restaurants, I had never considered cooking them myself. Committed to being one person who does cook collard greens, I brought a bunch home and attempted to cook them Southern style, guided by little more than memory and some suggestions offered by the admittedly vegetarian woman working the Capay Organic table. That Sunday night, we made some cornmeal crusted rock cod and the collard greens. While they both turned out well, both dishes were first attempts, and I identified several things I wanted to do differently. We did a second run of the fish the next night, but the collard greens would wait a couple weeks.

Going into this, I really only knew two things about making collard greens: they should be a bit vinegary and you have to cook the hell out of them. My greens dealer had mentioned olive oil and garlic, which made plenty good sense. She also suggested balsamic vinegar and honey. The vinegar I was down with, but the honey didn’t feel like a direction I wanted to go. I opted for some dry sherry which would add a touch of sweetness and balance the vinegar while keeping things acidic. To add a bit of spice, I used a teaspoon each of ground mustard and coriander.

After the first attempt, Jen immediately hit upon the key ingredient that was missing—and, frankly, I was a bit embarrassed to have missed it—pork. I had somehow forgotten that collard greens are always listed in the not vegetarian section of our favorite Southern restaurant’s menu. For our second round, we were sure to correct this omission.

Browsing the Farmers’ Market after picking up two bunches of collard greens, we were pleased to learn of Bledsoe Meats’ new double-smoked slab bacon. John Bledsoe, the friendly and enthusiastic owner of Bledsoe Meats assured us we’d enjoy it (though he later scolded me for using slab bacon and not jowl bacon in my collard greens), and proudly described the 18 hours of smoking it undergoes.

I sliced off a couple 1/2″ thick slices of the bacon, then cut those into cubes for a quarter pound of deliciously smoked lardons. Rather than olive oil, I sautÃ©ed the lardons until they were about half cooked, then removed them to another pan to finish. I added chopped garlic to the bacon fat, then the rough chopped collard greens, sherry, balsamic vinegar, mustard and coriander. After stirring the greens around for a couple minutes, I added the now crispy lardons, mixed everything together, and covered to cook for an hour.

While I can’t claim to have made true Southern collard greens, I was quite pleased with the way they came out. The greens were vinegary and toothsome while not being tough, and the bacon (even if it wasn’t jowl) added a smokiness and heartiness that really rounded out the dish.

Michael’s Northern California Style Collard Greens:

2 bunches collard greens
1/4 lb. smoked slab bacon cut into 1/2″ cubes
3 garlic cloves minced
1 tsp. ground mustard
1 tsp. ground coriander
1/2 cup dry sherry
1/2 cup balsamic vinegar

In a large skilled or braising pan, sautÃ© bacon until half cooked. Transfer bacon to another pan to finish cooking and add garlic to pan with bacon fat. SautÃ© garlic until soft, then add chopped collard greens, mustard and coriander. Toss in pan to mix and cook for 2-3 minutes. Add sherry, vinegar and cooked bacon. Mix and cover. Cook 1 hour. Add salt to taste.

More photos of the entire process here.

March 18, 2011June 4, 2011

52 Foods Week Eleven: Deglet Noor Dates

Just east of Palm Springs and the jutting San Jacinto Mountains, lies the Coachella Valley. Known to many as the home of a large music festival, it is also the largest date producing region outside of the Middle East. Two winters ago, we visited the valley and stopped at Shields Date Garden, in Indio, CA, whose small store is as much a paean to the date as it is a retail outlet. At Shields we tasted nearly a dozen date varietals, most of which are difficult—if not impossible—to find in grocery stores outside the valley. Because a trip to Indio is impractical on an average Saturday morning, I was thrilled to discover Siegfried Dates at the farmers’ market. They offer many date varietals from Coachella growers, including some delicious Deglet Noors from Leja Farms.

Deglet Noors are a fairly robust date varietal, recommended for cooking. While we were selecting out dates, another purchaser mentioned she was going to use her Deglet Noors in a pork dish, and leaving the market, we initially had similar ideas; however, when I realized that Monday was Pi Day, my thoughts turned to baking a date-pecan pie.

Based on a quick Google search, there seems to be a canonical date-pecan pie recipe, sourced of all places from Cooking Light. I am a bit skeptical about the “light” claims for this pie, but my wife assures me that the recipe is “light for a pie.” As I am far more versed in eating pies than baking them, I am trusting her on this point, but I would consult your a nutritionist or physician before making this, if calories and fat are a mortal concern.

Using a pretty good store bought pie crust (again, I am not a baker) makes this recipe ridiculously easy. I chopped the dates and pecans (Pawnee pecans from Chico, CA), then sprinkled them evenly on the bottom of the pie crust.

For the rest of the filling, I mixed brown sugar, molasses (which I used to replaced the dark corn syrup the recipe calls for), eggs, a little flour and a touch of vanilla and salt. When poured into the pie crust, this lifted the date and pecan pieces, suspending them in a rich, dark mixture of fat and sugar.

I baked the pie for 45 minutes, then removed it and added a layer of whole pecans to the top. It needed about 15 more minutes in the oven to finish.

I think the pie came out looking pretty sharp.

We served the finished pie with a healthy dollop of unsweetened whipped cream.

To complement it, we opened a cellared bottle of Full Sail Brewing’s 2009’s Black Gold Imperial Stout, a delicious, bourbon barrel aged imperial stout from one of Oregon’s premiere breweries.

2009 Full Sail Black Gold Imperial Stout

This is an awesome pie recipe, and I consider this a first run with it. I found the cup and a half of molasses to be a bit too strong, and in the future I plan to try a half cup of molasses and a 1/2 cup of bourbon brown sugar simple syrup (1/2 cup brown sugar dissolved in 1/4 cup bourbon). I also have a strong desire to add a little chopped bacon to the filling. The pork-date alliance is too strong to resist.

The pie making is documented in full here.

March 10, 2011June 4, 2011

52 Foods Week Ten: Shitaki Mushrooms

Sometimes the most important thing you cook is a side dish. We were invited to a pork dinner that we knew would be fantastic. The hog itself, tucked into our friends’ industrial freezer, was already stuff of legend. All we had to do was choose whether to bring a side or a dessert. We chose side.

Browsing the Farmers’ Market the morning of the meal, I happened upon some glorious shitaki mushrooms. I’m generally bullish on mushrooms of all kinds, and the shitakis that Solano Mushroom sells may be the most impressive I’ve seen. They were nice and full and appeared to have been very gently handled. I happily snapped up half a pound of them, then browsed the other tables to figure out what I was going to cook with them. Visiting the folks at Capay Organic, again, I picked up two bunches of rosy chard, as well as some collard greens for a Fifty Two Foods practice run.

Having both leafy greens and mushrooms in hand made for an obvious choice—creamed chard with mushrooms—since mushrooms take to cream so well, and there’s nothing quite like creamed chard for a hearty yet refreshing side dish.

I sliced the shitakis into good sized slices, then sautÃ©ed them in butter and garlic until they softened and the juices ran out.

The garlic I sliced very thin, and cooked slowly in the butter before adding the mushrooms, allowing it to soften and caramelize a bit. It tasted a lot like roasted garlic, but instead of soft, thick pieces, they were thin and crispy. The garlic alone was absolutely delicious.

In another pan, I sautÃ©ed a minced shallot in olive oil, then added the chard stems, which cooked for 5-10 minutes before I added the roughly chopped chard leaves. I added a bit of white wine, then covered the chard to let it soften for another 10 minutes, or so, before adding the entire contents of the mushroom pan.

Finally, I added two ounces of heavy cream and stirred everything together for a couple minutes.

The shitakis added a fantastic earthy taste to the chard, elevating a dish that already would have been tasty to a profound complexity. It paired very nicely with the pork we had, but could also have served well alongside any roast or grilled meat. Check out all the pictures here.

March 5, 2011June 4, 2011

52 Foods Week Nine: Fennel

There aren’t many foods I have a distinct memory of first discovering. There are, of course, many meals I remember that gave me a new appreciation for a food that was already familiar, but very few instances whereupon having something for the first time I also fell under its spell. For years, I knew nothing of fennel—beyond its seeds, which are key to so many Italian meat dishes—scared off by the fear that the root and stalks would be too licoricey for my taste. That all changed the first time I had roasted fennel root.

About a year after my wife and I began dating, she briefly worked near a weekday farmers’ market. One night she brought home a collection of root vegetables, including a large, milky fennel bulb. While I generally do most of the cooking, the market’s haul were her babies and she prepared a simple meal by roasting the sliced vegetables with olive oil, balsamic vinegar and some herbs. Having never before tasted fennel root, I was impressed and relieved by it’s mellow, sweet flavor. It quickly became a regular in our vegetable rotation, especially in the colder months, when hearty, roasted vegetables help to warm the belly.

Since eating at the very tasty Ubuntu Napa a month ago, I’ve been eager to make a meal where a vegetable that is typically served as a side moves center stage. Fennel seemed like a perfect choice, with the bulbs standing in for a shoulder roast, in a slow braised preparation.

I bought 4 medium fennel stalks from Capay Organic at the Davis Farmers’ Market. The bulbs I got were each a nice palm size, allowing them to be easily handled whole.

I washed and trimmed each fennel bulb, and chopped two cherry bomb peppers, a fairly mild pepper varietal that nicely balances sweetness and heat.

I sautÃ©ed the peppers in a few tablespoons of olive oil until their skin began to pucker, then added the fennel bulbs, searing them on each side just as I would a roast.

Once the bulbs were seared on all sides, I placed them upright in the center of the pan, added about 8 ounces of beer (Sudwerk Pilsner) and reduced the heat to low.

The fennel cooked for about 40 minutes, until it was soft but still nicely intact. While they cooked, I took advantage of the plentiful fennel fronds by placing about 4 ounces of them in a pint of vodka to make what I hope will be a heady, dry anisette.

We plated the fennel alongside a spicy potato with mustard seed recipe we got from Sunset, and poured a reduction of the braising liquid over it.

Checkout all the photos here.