fry them, fry them...FRY THEM!!!

One from the deep sea archives...

i.e. a pretty good video tutorial (if yer paying attention) about battered, deep fried mollusks and crustaceans...

Curried Chickpea, Cabbage & Cagney Stew

co-starring...

RICE!

also starring...

AnELABORATE BROTH!!!

In this healthy and warming thriller, private detective Don Forkwrench (Cagney) runs into trouble when he accidentally witness the stick-up of a neighborhood grocery.

burrito baby, the movie

The question has been posed...

If you throw your burrito into the air, does it get fuller?

Guest starring the Don, watch "Burrito Baby" and find out!






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obligatory traffic generating language:

How to roll a burrito, fold in the corners and stuff, Don Corleone eats burrito!

Hip hip hoooray!

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complicated lentil soup

How much is Philadelphia? When is jar? How long have you been wearing log cabin?

These are some of the things I've been hearing lately, and I don't understand them. I hover above a pot of soup and I hear things like, "where is hot?" and "why is Cleveland?" and I wonder about my neighbors, about what goes on in their weirdo minds. The walls are so thin. It's not that hard to hear them.

Last night was Halloween, in case you didn't know. This is some complicated lentil soup I made. We'll call it "compy lents" or something like that. It doesn't look complicated, which is why it IS complicated. Looks can be deceiving. Where is koko?


OK, enough of that. Here's what's involved:

I started with beef stock. I used a bone, probably from the shin, a good, fatty bone and some mire poix, i.e. 2 part onion, one part carrot, one part celery. I made the stock, chilled it, and then skimmed the congealed fat off the top and reserved the fat. Then I strained the stock and reduced it a bit more.

Welcome back congealed fat. Now it is your turn to be dumped into bottom of my biggest soup pot. Hello small dice or brunoise of carrot. i.e. lightly caramelize carrot in pure beef fat (pbf).

Once caramelization has begun to occur, it is time for powdered spice dumping time: into the fatty mixture (which I extended with some EVOO) go the garam marsala (tiny bit) and madras curry powder. Out comes wooden spoon to keep stuff moving around (to avoid burning spice). Then, once the fatty mixture and the spices have had some time to get accquainted, several big dollops of tomato paste, and yes, the old cooker-roo of the paste until it's rust-a-rooni-o. Got it?

Then the strained stock, then the lentils. Then boil the hell out of it and add more liquid as the liquid evaps. (Are you getting this?) If you want to cook the lentils until they fall apart, go for it. It'd be good. I didn't. Then, at the very end, season with salt, and squeeze lemon juice into the soup. How much? Use your tongue to figure that out. It comes pre-equipped with taste buds. Oh, btw people, if you aren't using your tongue to figure out how to cook, what's wrong with you?

Anyway, that's pretty much the complicated lentil soup. I was going for this Indian soup some cook invented for an important British dude, and I pretty much got it on the nose (not the soup), but I have no idea what the soup's called, only it's taste. Thanks, tongue. When is Massachusetts?

red curry

Well, my life has been feeling more and more empty lately. I wake up in the morning and think, "oh yeah, another day. I know what this is about," and then I get my coffee. Then, after my coffee, I do a bunch of things, and then, finally, I watch a movie. What a routine: coffee, bunch of things, movie. Cooking is sometimes included among that "bunch of things," but writing about cooking is included less and less. Well, last Saturday was a particularly empty-feeling day (not to mention rainy and miserable).

Or maybe it was Sunday. I cannot remember. In any case, I went on an Indian bender last weekend. It started with samosas (they turned out real nice) and ended with this red curry. The girl who sold me the shrimp at the River Valley Market said, "draw the shrimp, draw the shrimp," and so I went home and drew the shrimp (not particularly nice shrimp, I might add).


So that's my "artist's conception" of the dish. I was actually pretty proud of the shrimp. See, I've been drawing shrimp for several years, but I always drew them from the side-view (see the two big shrimp in the middle). This time, however, I made a breakthrough and drew one from the top-view (see the shrimp on the left). Peas, being spherical, pretty much look the same from every angle; hence, I have mastered drawing peas. And the cone of basmati rice? Well, maybe in a couple more years I'll get that right. Anyway, this is how the actual food looked:


Unfortunately, it is impossible to draw flavor. It is possible to draw bouillon cubes and other such condensed flavor items, but flavor itself eludes the pencil, or, in this case, the marker. Anyway, the red curry sauce is quite an ordeal. Rather, making the red curry sauce is quite an ordeal. In brief, this is how you do it:

Caramelize onions in, preferably, clarified butter or "ghee"

Once caramelized, add some minced ginger and garlic, just a bit

Then add powdered spices: curry powder, garam marsala, powdered coriander, chili powder etc etc

(curry powder and garam marsala, by the way, are spice blends)

Then add some tomato paste and cook until rust colored

Then add water or stock

Then cook a bit and put everything into food processor, puree

Then pass everything through a fine sieve

Then return to pot

The result is a curry sauce that is dynamic, rounded, very flavorful.

Choose other descriptive words.

Eat.

hangover food: chili on rice

I have to say that the traditional hangover breakfast, i.e. greasy eggs, hash browns, etc, is really not the best thing for a hangover. Pretty much everybody knows this, but since lately I've been wondering why the heck so many people persist in doing so many stupid things, you know, following unspoken protocols and so forth, well, I figured it wouldn't hurt to take a stab at the greasy diner food myth, or, rather, not stab it at all, but replace it altogether.

Anyway, here's one alternative: chili on rice.

Fried rice actually: you crack an egg into left-over, cold rice, stir it together, and cook the "cake" in a skillet...

admittedly, in oil!

wilting mustard greens?

I harvested all my mustard greens the other day, like several pounds of them, brought them in, pulled the leafy bits off the tough stems, washed them, drained them, and set about wilting them in this curious way. Uh, I wanted to make some Vietnamese pickled mustard, but uh, well, did I really think this would work? My first attempt was actually with a space heater!