Daring Cooks November: Sushi

We. Love. Sushi.  And we've eaten (probably literally) tons of it in our two short lives. But, we'd never made it before.  So, we were pretty excited about this month's challenge.

The challenge had four parts:
Part 1: Making proper sushi rice – you will wash, rinse, drain, soak, cook, dress, and cool short grain rice until each grain is sticky enough to hold toppings or bind ingredients. Then you will use the cooked rice to form three types of sushi:
Part 2: Dragon sushi roll – an avocado covered inside-out rice roll with a tasty surprise filling
Part 3: Decorative sushi – a nori-coated rice roll which reveals a decorative pattern when cut
Part 4: Nigiri sushi – hand-shaped rice rolls with toppings

Of course, before we could start the challenge, we needed to gather our supplies. Turns out we needed to pick up quite a few things.

1. Rice vinegar (for some reason, I thought I didn't have any on hand. Turns out I ended up buying an extra... typical!)
2. Sushi rice (no, you can't be all creative and use Arborio... I don't care HOW Italian you are)
3. Seaweed: Kombu (kelp) and toasted nori sheets  (turns out I had some Kombu from the last time I made miso soup... but I really did need the nori)
   
4. A sushi rolling mat (you don't absolutely need one, but it makes you feel very cool and official -- and we did find it made the process of rolling much easier)
5. Sushi meats:  We found unagi (barbequed eel) in the frozen section at our local Asian grocer; we also found sashimi grade tuna and salmon at Grasch Foods in Brookfield
   
6. Sushi veg: cucumbers, red carrots, beauty heart radishes, shiitake mushrooms, sweet potato, avocado
7. Miscellaneous items: black sesame seeds, lumpfish roe, wasabi powder (46% true wasabi), and sushi ginger

A few words of advice.  If you're going to make your own sushi rice in the traditional manner, be sure you allow yourself enough time.  You'll need time to rinse, drain, soak, cook, and cool your rice. 

Despite much eye-rolling, Peef was Exceedingly Gentle with the rice -- rinsing and draining them carefully so as not to split the grains.  And he exhibited a Saint's Patience when it came time to dress the rice with the prepared sushi vinegar mixture and fan the rice until it had cooled.

One look at the rice told us that all the work was well worth the effort -- the grains were perfectly cooked -- sticky-yet-separated -- and they had a gorgeous sheen.  The rice also had great flavor. The flavor of the vinegar was present, but not pronounced...  we were ready to roll!

Off to the fun part!!  First, we tackled the dragon/caterpillar roll.
In retrospect, we maybe should have started with something a bit more straightforward... But, despite some initial challenges with the sticky rice, and a few exclamations while arranging the roll on the plate, I think he turned out to be pretty cute.

The roll itself wasn't much to look at (even with the red lumpfish roe on top), but once we embellished the dragon with the avocado scales and gave him gorgeous fuschia-colored armor, things came together nicely.  A couple of red carrot slivers and a bit of fancy scallion-flame work, and we were pretty pleased with ourselves.

Next, we put together our decorative sushi. We decided to go with the traditional (and relatively straightforward) spiral roll.  We filled our roll with sweet potato, seasoned & cooked shiitake mushrooms, beauty heart radishes, and cucumbers.  So pretty!!

And finally, we put together a few lovely nigiri sushi -- salmon, tuna, and mixed vegetable.

I was particularly pleased with the look of the mixed vegetable sushi, which really featured the gorgeous veining in the radishes, and the lovely color of the red carrots.

After we'd finished the prerequisite rolls for the challenge, we did a couple more rolls just for fun.  First, a shiitake mushroom sweet potato uramaki, or "inside out roll" (we called ours the "autumn roll").

And then, spicy tuna maki. We made our spicy tuna with chopped tuna, mayo, and rooster sauce and embellished the roll with a bit of scallion.

And the best part?
Why -- eating the sushi, of course!

Interested in trying it out for yourself?
Sushi - instructions for sushi rice and rolls

The November 2009 Daring Cooks challenge was brought to you by Audax of Audax Artifex and Rose of The Bite Me Kitchen. They chose sushi as the challenge. 


©BURP! Where Food Happens

Indian Summer Eggplant Lasagnette with Cherry Tomato Sauce

Autumn this year sucked.  It was cold, dreary. Prematurely grey.
But, I was being a good sport. I turned the heat on in the house. I wore my winter jacket outside (sometimes with a scarf).  And I had myself all geared up for cold weather comfort food.

And then, something strange happened. The frosty 36ºF days suddenly became balmy 69ºF days. The sun came out. Woodland creatures crept out of their premature hibernation and began to frolick once again. And a day lily in my garden burst into spontaneous autumn bloom (seriously, folks -- I wish I had taken a picture).

For some reason, it seemed wrong to blog about risotto when I could pull out the stops and hearken back to one of those luscious late summer dishes that makes your head swim with lusciousness.  And so, I changed my mind.

Instead of hauling out the photos of that risotto, I took a mental journey back to those warm September days when the garden was ripe with cherry tomatoes. I thought back to the delicious end-of-summer lasagnette that's become a tradition at our house. Layers of delicious fried eggplant, roasted cherry tomato sauce, tangy goat cheese, salty parmesan, and plenty of Italian parsley. 

Yeah, this was the sort of food I was in the mood for.
Just look at those gorgeous fruits. Succulent. Sweet. Bursting with pure tomato flavor.

On this particular occasion, I took about 4-6 cups of the tomatoes and placed them on a roasting pan in a 425ºF oven with a few nice long sprigs of fresh rosemary.

They sweltered, and burst.  Their sugars caramelized and their juices mingled with the flavors of the rosemary branches.

I sauteed about 2 cups of red bell pepper and about the same amount of onion in olive oil. I added 2 cups of uber flavorful homemade chicken stock, a bay leaf, and all those luscious tomatoes.  And I let the sauce simmer away for about 30-35 minutes. 

Meanwhile, I turned my attention to the eggplant I'd picked up at the farmer's market. And took a sip of the glass of wine Peef poured me while I was making the sauce.

I sliced it thinly, salted it liberally, and then left it to drain for about a 1/2 hour or so; then, I rinsed them briefly and dried them thoroughly.  Now, I know that there are skeptics among you -- skeptics who scoff at salting eggplant. Who claim that eggplants don't NEED to be salted.  And maybe that's true.  But, I'm not into doing extra work if there's no pay off.

In this case, I didn't salt the eggplants because I feared they were bitter; rather, I wanted to draw out some of the moisture from the fruits.  This accomplishes three things:  1) It firms the flesh of the eggplant, which renders them texturally more pleasing for the lasagnette; 2) It adds a bit of flavor to the dense eggplant flesh; and 3) A salted (and dried) eggplant will absorb less oil when fried.

I seasoned some flour with salt, pepper, and garlic, and dredged the eggplant. When every slice was nicely powedered, I shallow fried every last piece of it in olive oil.

A few pieces got snarfed up straight out of the hot pan. But, most of them made it to the paper towels to drain. After all, both Peef and I knew what was coming.

While the eggplant was frying, the sauce was busily transforming itself into something positively fabulous. Peef took our stick blender and gave the sauce a whir to smooth things out a bit. He let it simmer for a little while longer, until everything had reduced and thickened. And then, he pulled everything off of the heat. He added a few tablespoons of chopped fresh oregano, Italian parsley, and fresh basil.  Finally, he stirred in a pat of butter to give everything a bit of extra richness.

Then, the assembly of the lasagnette began.  First a layer of sauce on the bottom of the pan.

Then, layers of eggplant, crumbled fresh goat cheese, chopped parsley, and parmesan cheese.  And repeat. Keep layering until you've used up every last bit of eggplant.  Then, top with bread crumbs and additional parmesan cheese. Bake at 375ºF for about 30 minutes, or until the lasagnette is browned and bubbles slightly along the edges.



Serve up the lasagnette in generous slices with a bit of extra cheese. Maybe a nice salad alongside.

A pan feeds 6-8 easily. Leftovers are amazing. And it freezes beautifully.  In fact, we just ate the last of this batch a couple of weeks ago in the midst of a cold snap. And it was perfect.

Thick Roasted Cherry Tomato Sauce


©BURP! Where Food Happens

Cold Comfort: Root Veggie Stew with Beef

This weekend, we both were able to breathe a sigh of relief.

Sure, there were leaves to rake... and a house to clean... but after all was said and done, we finally found ourselves back in the kitchen. And craving a bit of good old fashioned comfort food.

I have fond memories of coming home from elementary school and being greeted by a warm bowl of succulent stew -- tender beef and chunks of potato and carrots surrounded by a delicious brown sauce flavored with onion and bay leaves.  Mom always ate her stew like soup -- in a bowl, with a spoon. Dad always piled his stew on top of the bread like a big, open-faced sandwich -- slicing through each bite and eating it with a fork.  And me?  Well, I remember eating all the vegetables first so that I could savor the few pieces of stew meat in the bottom of the bowl, and use my bread to sop up the delicious sauce.

Some things never change.
The weather has been sunny, but chilly, here in Wisconsin.  When we ventured out to the farmer's market on Saturday morning we were surprised by the bone-chilling wind that greeted us when we got out of the car.  Wow!  Those farmers are sure dedicated folks!  And we were glad.  Our stash included loads of great stuff -- fresh mustard greens, red kale, end-of-season broccoli, winter squash, Ida Red apples, and rutabaga.  The big question became "What would we make with our loot?"  Well -- stew, of course!

The stew I make these days still resembles the one I grew up with... but I've taken a few liberties with the ingredients. Taking my cue from all the great chefs who remind us that a fantastic dish is contingent upon fantastic ingredients, we start off with a pound of our favorite grass-fed beef. This beef not only tastes better than your average supermarket meat, but it's seriously nourishing.  Among its benefits, grass-fed beef is a great source of vitamin E, omega-3 fatty acids (7 times more than grain fed beef), vitamin C, and beta-carotene. Grass-based farming is also great for the environment (excellent article here at Mother Earth News, if you're interested).  Healthy as it is, we're still judicious with our use of red meat. We use the beef primarily as a flavoring for the stew (rather than as the main event), so we can get away with using only about one pound of meat for 6-8 solid servings.

Another update to our beef stew involves... and you've probably guessed it... BEER!  Yes, indeed.  One of our favorite "stew brews" just happens to be one that's made right here in the Dairy State.  Tyranena "The Devil Made Me Do It" Coffee Imperial Oatmeal Porter.  Dark and sweet with plenty of coffee flavor, this beer really bumps up the flavor quotient in our stew.  And it's mighty nice for drinking on the side too...

And then there are the veggies -- a couple of nice rutabaga, a few delicious carrots, and a handful of Yukon gold potatoes.

We chop the veggies into nice, rustic chunks.  This stew cooks for quite a while in the oven, so we don't want everything turning to mush (anyone have BAD memories of overcooked carrots in their mom's beef stew??... yeah, that's exactly what we want to avoid).

Toss the cubed beef with a quarter cup of flour seasoned with salt & pepper.

And now, the cooking begins.

Brown the stew meat in large, oven-safe pan (a Dutch oven, if you have one).

When everything is nicely browned, remove the meat and saute a couple of sliced onions in the same pan.  When the onions are just about tender, add 8 cloves of chopped garlic and saute briefly.

You'll notice all sorts of delicious browned bits developing as the onions cook.  Feel free to giggle with delight -- all those crusty bits are going to impart some seriously amazing flavor to our stew.

Add a tablespoon of dried thyme to the onions, and stir well. Deglaze the pan with 4 tablespoons of red wine vinegar and a cup or so of the beer. Scrape up those crispy bits as the mixture comes to a boil. They should come off the bottom of the pan surprisingly easily as the vinegar and beer do their thang.

Add the remaining cup of beer, along with 3 cups of good quality beef broth, 2 tablespoons of Dijon style mustard, 2 bay leaves, and 2 tablespoons of brown sugar. Bring the liquid to a boil.  Then add your reserved beef, chopped vegetables and three sprigs of fresh rosemary (if you've got 'em).  When everything is boiling again, you can cover your pot and transfer the stew to a preheated 350º oven.

Check your stew after about an hour and a half.  If the vegetables are tender, you're good to go. If things need a bit more time, you can let it go for another half hour or so.

If the stew seems too thin for your liking, you can remove some of the vegetables and use your choice of methods to thicken the sauce (I like pureeing a few of the vegetables, or adding a roux and simmering it for a bit).  Otherwise, just spoon into bowls and serve.

Now, seriously... where's my chunk of crusty bread?  It's time for dinner!

Recipe:  Root Veggie Stew with Beef



©BURP! Where Food Happens

Poetic Disappointment: Raspberry Chocolate Ice Cream

Really? How could ice cream be bad?
I'm still asking myself this very question. After all, it seemed to have everything going for it -- chocolate, cream, awesome raspberries. But, somehow, it just fell... well, flat.  I'm still perplexed.

The sad story began on a Saturday in August. The raspberries were as close to perfection as they come -- big, ripe, juicy and local. We'd just procured them from the market, and had nibbled a few out of hand just to be sure.  Sheer perfection so far as we could tell.
And we had a nice, fresh container of whipping cream, just begging to be made into something wonderful.
A bit of sugar, some cocoa powder -- the anticipation began to mount.

We cooked up all the good stuff on the stove until the sugar was fully dissolved, and then we took everything off of the heat and added those luscious raspberries to the mix.  The pan sat on the stove, covered, for a while -- giving the raspberries just a smidge of time to soften.

And then everything went into the blender...

... where it was whipped into an oblivion.

It was gorgeous stuff -- light, fluffy, silky.  It looked like a dream.  We scraped it into a bowl, chilled it, and then gave it over to the ice cream machine.

It looked pretty perfect when it came out. 
But the flavor?
Flat. Strange. Not-quite-right.


We tasted. And retasted.  And scooped. And licked.
It didn't really get better.

But, we really HATE wasting food. So we made the best of things. It took us a number of weeks -- but we ate every last bit of the ice cream. The second round was "enhanced" with a bit of chocolate syrup (which made it passable).  The third (and final) round accompanied a batch of seriously fudgy brownies (so good, we almost didn't notice the ice cream).

As you might have noticed, we were so disappointed, we didn't even take photos of the final product... but we did write a little bit of bad poetry.

Ode to Chocolate Raspberry Disappointment
Oh you --  brown creamy treat,
For which we had high hopes.
We sacrificed ripened fruit in your image.
We whipped you in our blender,
Praying for whirled peace.
In exchange, you gave us Brain Freeze.
And an appetite for disaster.

Cold and sweet, but not satisfying.
Like a winter day in August.
We masked you in chocolate syrup.
And still you would not satisfy.

Oh you --  brown creamy creamy treat, 
You are not worthy of our pleasure.
Your looks deceive and taunt us.
Chocolate Expectation flaunts
What it can never hope to deliver.
Your whipped creamy goodness
Is but a facade.

And so, we sing of your deceit.
And warn our neighbors.
We spare even the landfill your presence --
And eat what we cannot savor.


©BURP! Where Food Happens

Winter Farmer's Market -- in Milwaukee!

Eating locally in Wisconsin can be a challenge -- particularly during the winter months. But, a new development will make it easier for a great many of us. Milwaukee has decided to sponsor a winter farmers' market!

I caught wind of the market a few weeks ago; but, at that point the listing of vendors had not yet been released. This morning, I was excited to find an announcement in my inbox indicating that the market will feature locally grown produce, meats, and other food products from a whole host of vendors that we absolutely LOVE.

Some of the familiar favorites include:

• Bolzano Artisan Meats Wisconsin’s first (and only) purveyor of dry-cured meats (located right here in Milwaukee)
  
• JenEhr Family Farm Our favorite organic farm, located in Sun Prairie, WI.
• Jeff-Leen Farm Awesome fresh eggs and pastured beef from Random Lake, WI.
• Oly’s Oats Wisconsin-milled oats and grains.
• Pinehold Gardens Another lovely organic farm, located in Oak Creek, WI. These guys not only grow great veg, but they sponsor the annual pig roast we attend every year.
  

A couple of other vendors we're excited about include:

• Golden Bear Monarchs Elk Farm How great will it be to be able to get locally raised elk... and pheasants??!! (Beloit, WI)
  
• Rolling Meadows Sorghum Mill Local producers of sorghum, maple syrup and honey (Elkhart Lake, WI)
  

The market will be held on Saturday mornings from 8am-12pm from November 7, 2009 thru April 24, 2010 at the Tommy G. Thompson Youth Building at the Wisconsin State Fair Park.

More information available at MCWFM.org.


©BURP! Where Food Happens

Frantic Food: Oven Roasted Rattatoille with Herbs de Provence

I positively ADORE autumn.
Normally, October is the time of year when I take stock of my life, get organized, and settle into the idea that winter is approaching. I make soup, take time to watch the leaves fall, and reminisce about autumns past. I don't even mind the fact that I have to put on a sweater -- the crisp air is somehow part of the experience. We take leisurely strolls through the woods, pick apples at the orchard, and spend our weekends clipping spent blooms and cleaning up the gardens.

NOT this year. October has been a BLUR.
So far, we've been out of town almost every weekend so far this month; when we're home, our weeknights have been flooded with late meetings and work events. On top of everything, my dear baby brother is getting married on Saturday -- so we have been enrapt in all the necessary pre-nuptual activities.

Needless to say, our cooking has suffered. And our blogging?... well, you've seen the blogging.
We were lucky that the Daring Cooks challenge was announced a month ahead of time so that we could make time to get that done at the end of September. Most other nights, we're throwing things together in a whirlwind. Eating leftovers from the freezer. Sticking to the standards. And trying to prevent our already curvaceous figures from becoming downright corpulent.

Thank goodness for the farmer's market!
It's been a few weeks already -- but one of the best dishes we've managed to scrounge up was a gorgeous roasted rattatouille. Delicious. Nutritious. And perfect not-so-frantic food for a fairly frantic weeknight. Fairy tale eggplant, ripe zucchini, cherry tomatoes... Delectable.
We chopped everything and coated it in a liberal wash of olive oil. In the spirit of ease, I also tossed in a small handful of my very favorite all-purpose seasoning, Herbs de Provence.

When it was all mixed, I tossed it into a fairly toasty oven (425º if my memory doesn't fail me) and let everything roast up until it was perfectly tender. In the meantime, I sauteed an onion until it was nice and caramelized (truth was, I forgot to throw it in with the other ingredients).
When everything was cooked, I stirred it all together and scooped it into bowls. A chunk of crusty bread, and we were all set.

Have I shared with you that roasted veggies are just about my favorite thing in the world? Seems there's nothing better than a load of colorful produce that's been cooked until it's all caramelized and sweet. An ordinary zucchini takes on serious personality when it's kept the company of an ultra-sweet cherry tomato in the blaze of a hot oven. And you'd never accuse roasted eggplant of being slimey -- oh, no! It wouldn't win any beauty contests, but its flesh is positively silky and so very sweet... eggplant haters wouldn't recognize it if they didn't know better.

But, I digress. I've got to think of something quick to make for dinner.


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