The Peasant Cook

Pintxos - Egg with Paprika and Anchovy

2010-10-13T23:58:00.000-07:00

So it's been a while...again. Documenting my current obsession - pintxos! Here's the first official pintxo I made. No need for a written recipe this time - the title of the post says it all!

I hear the Basque country calling my name....

Return of the Lazy Blogger...

2009-02-16T00:34:00.000-08:00

I feel deeply ashamed of my lack of commitment to this blog, which was clearly evident from my...ermmm, 5 month hiatus? Nevermind my hectic transition to a new company as a technical writer and my crazy decision to take another evening course (ala online format, the one saving grace) which began in early January. I miss writing about food and cookery and there wasn't a better night than tonight to start updating my blog again...

I'm not sure if I've mentioned it before in this blog, but I have a bit of a weakness for good cookbooks with interesting stories, vignettes, and excellent photography. So last night, after a delicious Valentine's dinner at Sai Z (sorry, no good pics to post), my sweetie pie and I went to Chapter's on Granville & W.Broadway, armed with a 25% e-mail coupon. Luckily for me, and after a bit of contemplating at the bookshelves, I chose to grab a copy of A16 Food + Wine by Nate Appleman, Shelley Lindgren, and Kate Leahy. I can't remember where or how I first heard of A16, but their unique Italian menu, which changes to the seasons, was intriguing enough for me to scope out periodically on their excellent restaurant website. Their wine and cuisine have this peculiarly mad focus on the Italian south - specifically the Campania and Puglia regions - which is refreshing considering the saturation of Italian joints that claim to cook to the Tuscan style. Even White Spot is jumping on the Tuscan bandwagon!

With a million Italian cookbooks out there, it can be hard for any new Italian cookbook to stand out with original recipes. This isn't to say that there aren't any interesting recipes to find in this book. One of the things I noticed was a fine mix of authenticity and Appleman's own personal touches as a talented chef. Flipping through this book also reminds me how Californians have it so good when it comes to locally grown fresh produce. It definitely helps when your local climate is close to that of the region of the cuisine you draw inspiration from. Highlights for me were his recipes for 'Tuna Conserva', 'Chicken Meatballs with Peperonata' (made famous at the restaurant), and more elaborate dishes like 'Ricotta Gnocchi in Brodo with Peas and Spicy Pork Meatballs'. There were also some authentic looking recipes for pizza, another specialty at A16. However, for me, the one pizza ingredient that separates the men from the boys, and one that I can never afford to have, is the wood fired pizza oven. If you happen to have a wood fired pizza oven in your kitchen and backyard, then you'll be super glad to know Appleman's pizza recipes are in the book. If not, meh is the word. I really appreciate Appleman's purist approach to his craft, which was clearly demonstrated in the chapter appropriately named "The Pig".

To my surprise, nearly 1/2 of this book is dedicated to southern Italy's wines, which should please the wine connaiseur. Then again, A16 Food + Wine isn't intended to be another Italian cookbook. Like Picard's Au Pied de Cochon - The Album, it's more of a memoir, a culinary journal that aims to capture the restaurant's spirit and philosophy. And captured it did!

Serious Pie

2008-09-02T20:50:00.000-07:00

Photo: Virginia Street - Please Use Other Door

An Ode to Pizza...

Pizza, pizza it's a treat.
Pizza, pizza is fun to eat!
Ooey-gooey cheese so yummy.
Crunchy crust goes in my tummy.
Pizza, pizza it's a treat.
Pizza, pizza is fun to eat!

-Anonymous

It's true. I love pizza, and pizza loves me back (sometimes). The real truth is, I love all sorts of pizza: from the 'authentic' pizza that comes right out of a wood fired oven at a Neapolitan pizzeria to the the last slice of crappy 'company-celebration' pizza that you eat when no one is looking in the office break room. It's all good to me. Does that make me a good pizzeria critic? Probably not.

Photo: Pizza making action at Serious Pie, Part I

On a brief trip to Seattle over the long weekend with my belle, it was made known to me that a must-visit to Tom Douglas' Serious Pie was in serious order. For those who don't know, and I make this comparison with no intention of discrediting anyone, Tom Douglas is sort of the restaurateur equivalent to Vancouver's Harry Kambolis. They are both known to love their respective cities and Pacific Northwest cuisine, champion the noble idea of farm to table, and make lots of money from their well-reviewed restaurants. But that's where the similarities end. Tom Douglas is especially successful in the latter, being the owner of a Seattle empire that oversees at least eight food establishments: six restaurants plus a catering company and bakery. 1994 James Beard winner, celebrity chef, and cookbook author -but seriously, what does he know about pizza?

Photo: Pizza making action at Serious Pie, Part II

Walking into the establishment, you can immediately catch the aromas of basil, garlic, and pizza dough crisping up in the slick looking wood fired oven that greets patrons. There seems to be almost always a long waitlist, and our visit made no exception. Serious Pie is not a big establishment but manages to squeeze in maximum capacity with its communal bar seating arrangement. This seems to be the trend now with hip eateries that aren't well-endowed with space but I guess the idea here is to encourage fresh conversation, sharing, and togetherness.
However, when we were seated, we were literally rubbing elbows and knees with our neighbors left and right. Sitting between two pizza loving obese walruses? Good luck. I respect the casual communal concept, but I prefer a bit more personal space and privacy in my dinner conversation.

Photo: Pizza with Buffalo Mozzarella and San Marzano Tomato

The menu is surprisingly small for a pizzeria, but this is likely from their confidence and focus in their product quality. There's a nice selection of starters and salads, and a choice of eight different pizza pies - all offered in one fairly generous personal size for the average eater. Judging from what I saw on the online version of the menu in comparison the one at the actual restaurant, you can expect a slight variation of ingredients depending on availability and season. Skipping the appies and going straight for the kill, we couldn't resist ordering the buffalo mozzarella and San Marzano tomato pizza and the more unique proscuitto, baby mizuna, and soft egg pizza. The wait for our pizza was a bit agonizing, especially when you're almost sitting directly over your neighbor's pizza. Fortunately for us (and our unsuspecting neighbors), the wait wasn't more than 10-15 minutes.

First, the crust. The outer edge of the crust on our pizzas was slightly charred, thanks to the extremely high temperatures of the pizzeria's wood fired ovens. This was actually good for flavor and foreshadowed the overall crispiness of the pizza crust - both top AND bottom. The relative thinness of the crust is typical of what some foodies would label as 'authentic Italian'. More impressive is how well seasoned the crust was. Most crusts I've eaten taste either like cardboard or plain bread. At Serious Pie, I would be happy to fill up on the tasty crust alone with a glass of wine.

Photo: Pizza with Proscuitto, Baby Mizuna, and Soft Egg

Second, the toppings. It's rare to see buffalo mozzarella and San Marzano tomatoes together on a pizzeria menu in North America - and here they are on one of our pizzas! This pizza didn't disappoint - the exceptionally fine mozzarella was sliced at the right thickness and melted wonderfully, spreading itself lazily over its tomatoey partner-in-crime - imported all the way from San Marzano, the kingdom of high pedigree tomatoes in Italy. Of course, I could have been easily fooled as I'm no tomato expert, but there was definitely a nice balance of tart and sweet from the tomato component.

The Proscuitto, Baby Mizuna, and Soft Egg pizza was equally delicious in its own unique way. Its lack of any sort of sauce is reminiscent of pizza bianca, and like pizza bianca, it is offset by a very well seasoned crust. Even better, was the accompanying soft boiled egg that sits on top of the pizza, nestled in the arugula-like mizuna and torn pieces of proscuitto. I discovered its hidden powers as I poked at it gently with my fork, breaking the yolk and letting it flow freely onto the 'pizza board' beneath. Mopping up the yolky sauce with whatever pizza I had left in front me of was a pleasurable brunch-like experience.

Service was brisk and professional with our waters filled promptly without asking. This is, without a doubt, a high-end pizza joint that takes its pies seriously. I will be back again, but most likely with six other friends. Not so much because I want to share the experience so badly, but because I'd rather accidentally rub knees with a friend than the strange fat guy with sauce all over his chin who couldn't keep his stocky left elbow out of my face.

Cast-Iron Grilled T-Bone Steak

2008-07-30T15:48:00.000-07:00

Photo: T-Bone grillin' away. Courtesy of Steph.

Cast-iron cookware is a must have if you fancy grilling year-round, ESPECIALLY in rainy- gray Vancouver. Even for some of the warmer days of the year, pulling out the charcoal grill may seem way too much trouble. Having grilled foods with an anodized aluminum grill pan before with hit and miss results, with the pan having gone into the rubbish pile after less than a dozen uses, I have always wondered what the cast-iron fuss was about. Why are these heavy black clunkers, synonymous with free-ranging cowboy cooking over an open campfire, gaining popularity in so many Dick & Jane kitchens today? I quickly learned that it's all about the holding of heat - really really smokin' high heat. Forget about having to chicken-out on turning your stove dial beyond medium because the package instructions from your non-stick grill pan cautioned you to do so. With cast-iron, you can crank that dial to the max to get the necessary temperature for maximum grill flavor. One stern warning though - the nature of cast-iron, combined with high heat and fat (in the form of cooking oil or animal fat) can produce a lot of smoke during grilling, so you'll definitely want to have good ventilation in your kitchen.

Clean-up wasn't as bad as I initially thought; just soak with hot water (never use soap) for about 15 minutes and scrub away with your favorite bbq brush. And then rub the cooking surface of your pan with cooking oil to prevent rusting. If you're looking for one, I highly recommend the Lodge Pro Logic 12" Square Grill pan. For some reason, Vancouver retailers tend to mark Lodge products WAY up. I bought mine at a kitchen gadget store in Seattle's Premium Outlets about a month ago at a decent price and was looking forward to putting it to the ultimate grilling test: STEAK!

Widely heralded as one of the Aston Martins of steaks and second only to its bigger brother, the Porterhouse, the T-Bone is a real treat to grill. The T-Bone offers the lucky carnivore both the New York strip and tenderloin attached to the bone; the difference being a bigger tenderloin for the Porterhouse. I like to grill mine real simply to let the beefy flavor come straight through. No marinade, no heavy sauce - just olive oil, S&P, and a squeeze of lemon or a dab of creamed horseradish at the end. To get the best tasting T-Bone steak, you'll want to source organic beef and AAA when and where possible.

Cast-Iron Grilled T-Bone Steak for Two
Serves 2

Ingredients:

1 Thick-cut AAA T-Bone steak (around 24oz)
2 tbsp Extra virgin olive oil
Ground pepper and coarse sea (or Kosher) salt to taste
Lemon wedges

Season your steak generously with salt and pepper on both sides. Rub steak on both sides with olive oil (If you've refrigerated your steak, leave your steak out to sit to come to room temperature).
Lightly oil your cast-iron pan's cooking surface and put it on maximum heat on your stove
Once your pan shows signs of smoking, throw your steak on and let it grill, untouched, for roughly four-five minutes. For perfect criss-cross grill marks, turn your steak (tongs would be perfect for this) exactly 90 degrees, and grill for another three minutes.
Flip your steak and repeat the cooking instructions from step three. This will produce a rare steak.
Remove your steak and place on a wooden cutting board. Tent it with some aluminum foil and let it rest.
Carve it in nice thick slices and serve with lemon wedges or a side of creamed horseradish.

Enjoy!

Tomato and Bocconcini Salad

2008-07-30T12:37:00.000-07:00

Photo: Courtesy of Steph

I've had so many blasphemed interpretations of the classic Caprese salad in campy pseudo-Italian restaurants all over, it's unbelievable. I've had one that looked like a deconstructed hamburger: iceberg lettuce, tomato, onion, and minus the bun and beef patty of course. I've had another with rubbery bocconcini pearls, frisee lettuce leaves, and gobs of syrupy balsamic reduction. Never has anything so simple been so wronged. If you're preparing this at home, I highly recommend you do so during the summer months, when tomatoes are at their seasonal prime. This salad is perhaps the simplest and most flattering expression of its ingredients - make sure you get the best!

Tomato and Bocconcini Salad
Serves 2-3

Ingredients:

2 small to medium ripe summer tomatoes, sliced
1 ball Bocconcini cheese (around 150g), sliced
4 tbsp high quality extra virgin olive oil
1 small handful of fresh basil leaves
Sea salt to taste

Preparing the Basil Oil

Using a pestle and mortar, smash together some basil leaves and salt until a paste-like consistency forms.
Drizzle olive oil into the paste and mix vigorously until combined and smooth.

Assembling the Salad

Layer and intertwine cheese and tomato slices around your plate
Drizzle basil oil and tare up remaining basil leaves and sprinkle all over

Buon Appetito!

Smoked Salmon with Purple Yams

2008-07-30T12:01:00.000-07:00

Came home from work one day, completely famished. Opened the fridge and found some vacuum packed cold smoked salmon. Looked around the pantry - NO BREAD! What to do? Ah - purple yams! It must have been the work of fate. Nice quick fixer-upper and combination of smoky, salty, and sweet.

Smoked Salmon with Purple Yams
Serves 1

Ingredients:

4-5 big slices of good quality cold smoked salmon
1 small purple yam (cooked), roughly sliced and quartered
2 tbsp of good quality extra virgin olive oil
1 tbsp lemon juice
Sea salt and pepper to taste

Preparing the vinaigrette:

In a small bowl, whisk together lemon juice and olive oil. Add salt and pepper to taste.

Assembling the plate:

Stretch out smoked smoked salmon slices and lay flat on a plate.
Scatter purple yam pieces on top of salmon.
Drizzle vinaigrette all over.

Enjoy!

Mushroom and Celery Risotto

2007-11-21T00:16:00.000-08:00

Photo: A pot of risotto (Courtesy of Steph)

There probably isn't any better way to prepare mushrooms in autumn than determinedly stirring a good ol' pot of risotto with vigor. For this dish, try finding a variety of mushrooms at your local supermarket. White button, crimini, shiitake, and portabellos would be good choices. If you're able to get your hands on some enoki mushrooms, don't be afraid to use them as they offer an extra dimension in texture to the risotto. The piece de resistance, if you are able to find them, would be of course dried porcini mushrooms. Good quality dried porcini can add an incredible depth of savoriness, or umami, as japanophile foodies would like to dub it. I buy my dried porcini in 20 gram packages at Bosa Foods, though I'm quite certain that most specialty food stores in Vancouver will carry them. And with all that umami, the addition of celery helps cut the richness with its fresh flavor and aroma.

Mushroom and Celery Risotto
Serves 4-6 as a primi course

Ingredients:

2 cups of aborio rice (approx 400g)
1.5L low-sodium chicken broth
2 glasses of dry white wine or vermouth (approx 480ml)
200g mixed variety of mushrooms, chopped roughly
2 tsp dried thyme
2 stalks of celery, chopped finely
1/2 medium onion, chopped finely
1tbsp minced garlic
2 tbsp unsalted butter
1 chunk of parmigianno reggiano for grating
extra Virgin Olive
flat leaf parsley, chopped
sea salt and pepper to taste

NOTE: If you are using dried porcini for this recipe, soak them in 250ml of hot water for 20 minutes. Reserve the liquid and use in place of 1 cup of white wine.

Preparing the Mushrooms:

In a skillet over medium heat, pour 2tbps of extra virgin olive oil and lightly sauté garlic. Before the garlic turns golden, add dried thyme.
Add mushrooms to skillet and sauté until completely brown and all liquid has been evaporated. This will take about 15-20 minutes. When done, set aside.

Preparing the Risotto:

In a saucepan, heat chicken stock to a slight simmer.
In another saucepan over medium heat, pour tbsps of extra virgin oil and 1 tbsp of butter together. Add onions, and celery and sauté until they turn translucent. Add a pinch of salt and pepper.
Add rice and stir to ensure that butter and oil coat each grain of rice.
Once rice turns translucent, pour in wine and turn heat to high setting.
When wine is almost completely evaporated, add 1 ladle of hot chicken stock and stir frequently to prevent rice from sticking to the bottom of the skillet. Use a wooden spoon.
When rice has absorbed most of the stock, add another ladle of stock and continue stirring. Repeat process until the risotto has developed a loose and creamy texture, and the grains are slightly al dente to the bite. Expect to stir continuously for up to 20 minutes.
Add 1tbsp butter and grate parmigianno generously over risotto. Stir.
Add cooked mushrooms and chopped parsley and stir to incorporate.
Now that you've become tired from all that stirring, plate up and enjoy!

Bon appetito!

Porcini

2007-11-06T01:17:00.001-08:00

Photo: Fresh porcini on display. Mercato Centrale, Florence - June 2007

Ah, autumn is here, the season of ephemeral beauty. The city sidewalks are abounded by rustling leaves, the trees adorned in red and gold , and the weather - well, wet and cold. Mushrooms for me is the ingredient of autumn. Though the majority of home cooks in North America have had their "funghi senses" dulled from overexposure to the humdrum white button mushroom, Italians have been dying and going to 'shroom heaven every autumn.

Recalling a visit to Florence's Mercato Centrale in June of 2007, I had the chance to closely examine, touch, and smell porcini, or boletus edulis, in its many forms and shapes. They were everywhere, and in amazing abundance. Peak harvesting season normally begins in the very late summer and into the autumn months. The ideal growing conditions found in Tuscany's pine forests seem to spoil many Florentine foodies, all of whom prize the coveted porcini for its meaty yet smooth mushroom flavor.

Photo: Dried porcini on display. Mercato Centrale, Florence - June 2007

For the rest of us who don't have easy access to these brown-capped jewels of the forest, there's porcini in its dried state. And by dried, I don't mean a necessarily lesser state of being. They are indeed a robust ingredient in their own right, and known to be more intense in flavor than fresh. The same is true for dried shiitake mushrooms, often prized over their fresh counterparts by Chinese cooks for the same reasons. If you ever get the privilege of choosing from more than one kind of dried porcini mushrooms at a store, do as what Rose Gray and Ruth Rogers would do: "Look for pale cream-coloured stems and light brown caps. Thickly sliced, darker coloured porcini are oven-dried, which seems to affect the flavour." Yes, dried is nice; however, any proud Tuscan mushroom forager would still argue that fresh porcini can't be beat.

Click here to watch Daniel Rose prepare a delightful Porcini salad at his Paris restaurant, Spring.

Bucatini all'Amatriciana

2007-09-22T13:51:00.000-07:00

During my travels in Rome earlier this Summer, I was lucky enough to eat spaghetti carbonara on a good number of occasions. Spaghetti carbonara, to me, was the all-day breakfast pasta of Rome. One can hardly tire from the marriage of eggs and bacon, and to have it tossed with perfectly cooked spaghetti was definitely a plus. On a lunch break during a visit to the Vatican, I had the chance to sample another Romanesque pasta. This was of course, spaghetti all'Amatriciana. The sauce was a wonderful and simple combination of a couple of my favorite ingredients - tomato and bacon. Today for lunch, I set out to recreate the experience.

After some research, I discovered that bucatini is 'traditionally' the preferred pasta for making this dish. Luckily, I had a package of Barilla bucatini ($1.69) on hand from a recent trip to Duso's at the Granville Island Public Market. As well, contrary to my prior understanding of pancetta as being the principle pork product of choice, it turned out that guanciale (cured pig jowl) is to be used for authenticity. I have never seen this cut of cured pork for sale ever in Vancouver, nor was I prepared to go on an urban hunt for it. Hell, what is a jowl anyway? Pancetta had to do for now - and it would be, I believe, just as tasty.

I was seeking good quality pancetta, and didn't want to drive too far to find it, or use regular bacon as a substitute. I was able to find some at Tonina's Deli & Cafe, and managed to score a decently priced block of pecorino romana too with the help of a friendly store clerk. I then quickly returned home, pumped up and ready to cook.

Bucatini all'Amatriciana
Serves 6 as a hearty Primi course

Ingredients

200g pancetta (or guiancale if you're lucky)
600-700ml your favorite tomato sauce
3-4 cloves of garlic, finely minced
1 small yellow onion, sliced
4-5 tbsp olive oil
1 tsp red pepper flakes
500g dried bucatini
Freshly grated pecorino cheese
Chopped flat leaf parsley to garnish

Bring a big pot of salted water to boil.
In a saute pan, cook onions in olive oil until translucent (5-6 minutes), and then add garlic, pepper flakes, and pancetta.
Continue sauteeing until the pancetta has rendered most of its fat - drain half of the fat out of the pan.
Add tomato sauce into the pan, lower heat, and simmer for 10 minutes.
In the meantime, add the bucatini into the pot of boiling water and cook until al dente.
Add cooked bucatini into the heated sauce and toss quickly to coat. Add pasta cooking water if necesssary to loosen the sauce and noodles.
Divide amongst six bowls and top each with grated pecorino, a sprinkle of parsley, and an optional drizzle of extra virgin olive oil.

Bon appetito!

Making Ravioli: Hard Lessons Learned

2007-09-13T15:33:00.001-07:00

Photo: Naked ravioli - Sep 8, 2007

After many childhood years of consuming ravioli alla Chef Boyardee from a tin can, I've always wanted to try my hand at making ravioli from scratch. How difficult could it possibly be, I thought. Make the filling, knead the pasta dough, roll out some fresh pasta sheets, portion the filling, fold, press, cut with a pastry roller, and voila right? Well, it turned out that I was wrong - it was much more time consuming and laborious than I thought it would, causing much vexations and annoyance for all parties involved (ahem). I think it was partly due to the amount of ingredients we had. There was enough to make 8-10 servings, rather than the intended 4-6. We had so much filling that Steph was able to fill leftover cannelloni shells with it. And there we were, spending a Saturday night, from 8pm to 11pm, on the art of ravioli making. Like how a nonna would in her Italian matriarchal household, except she'd do it on a Sunday afternoon in half the time, and because making ravioli on a Saturday night would be for nutcases. Yes, it was my fault; however, the results of our labor were no less than satisfying. After boiling some of our plump ravioli (finally), and saucing them lightly with jarred tomato sauce, I found the pasta component to be surprisingly al dente and the filling delicious.

Photo: Plump ravioli - Sep 8, 2007

And then disaster struck. The proper way of preparing freshly made ravioli for freezing was of course to line them individually on a floured baking sheet before bagging or storing. Rather than following professional advice, I unwittingly stacked the remaining ravioli we had so lovingly made on top of another in a pile on a glass plate. As they sat on the plate for half an hour, what resulted was an unappetizing looking 'ravioli pie'. At the moment of discovery, I was overcome with pissedivity, sadness, and disbelief. Oh ravioli, how will I share thee with the rest of the world now?!

Ravioli of Ham, Spinach, Mushrooms, and Ricotta
Serves: 6-8

Recommended special equipment and tools:

Hand crank pasta machine
Fluted pastry roller
Baking sheets

Ingredients for the dough:

3 1/2 cups of all-purpose flour
6 large eggs

Ingredients for the filling:

350g Cow's milk ricotta cheese.
400g Frozen spinach, chopped.
200g Cooked ham, chopped into tiny cubes.
350g Button mushrooms, finely chopped.
1 Small onion, finely diced.
1 Large egg.
2 Tbps Extra virgin olive oil
Salt and pepper to taste

To make the pasta dough:

Pour flour into a large bowl and make a well in the center.
Crack eggs into the well, and start mixing them into the flour with a fork.
As soon as the dough stiffens into a ball-like shape, take it out of the bowl and onto a lightly floured board.
Knead the dough with your hands until it becomes a well formed elastic ball that is neither too sticky or too dry. Add extra flour or a few drops of water if necessary.
Saran wrap the dough and let stand for about 20 minutes at room temperature.
Tare the ball into 4-5 smaller pieces and run them through your pasta machine several times until you have thin (but strong) sheets of pasta. You will want to roll out one sheet and make one batch of ravioli at a time before rolling out another sheet to prevent drying of the dough.

To make the filling:

Defrost your spinach and parboil for about 3-4 minutes. Drain and squeeze as much excess water out as you can out of them.
Lightly sautee onions and garlic in a hot fry pan (med heat) with olive oil for about 3-4 minutes. Add mushrooms and brown for about 15 minutes and until liquid in pan has completely evaporated. Let stand to cool.
In a bowl, combine ricotta, chopped ham, cooled spinach, and cooled mushrooms. Mix thoroughly with a spoon.

To form the ravioli:

Place your sheet of pasta onto a floured board, and with a spoon, place a teaspoon (or up to a tablespoon if you dare) of the filling at the vertical center of the sheet.
Place as many portions as possible on the sheet, while ensuring sure each portion of filling is at least 3 cm apart.
Fold the sheet over, and press firmly to seal each package of filling.
With your pastry roller, cut the ravioli into squares. Using your thumb and forefinger, squeeze the edges and remove any air pockets or bubbles.

IMPORTANT: Place your handmade ravioli on a floured baking sheet. NEVER stack them on top of another!

To cook the ravioli:

In a pot of boiling salted water, toss in your ravioli (about a dozen) and wait for about 5-6 minutes. When cooked, the ravioli should float to the top.
Drain with a metal colander and serve with your favorite tomato sauce, or a brown butter sauce accented with your favorite herb.

Bon appetito!

Labour Day Weekend - Seattle's Ballard District

2007-09-09T13:46:00.000-07:00

On a recent visit across the border in Washington state during the Labour Day weekend, I couldn't help but notice the symptoms of America's number one ailment. Plastered on the window panes of almost every Mcdonald's we passed by on the interstate, were posters promoting an incredible American McDeal: Four Chicken McNuggets for $1.00. I was thinking, if the average McPerson were to eat 8 McNuggets as a meal in one sitting, you could spend less than 10 bucks on dinner for a family of four. Not to mention that you'd be giving yourself a break from chopping, cooking, and pot washing, and more time to do important things like watch America's Top Model. Such beauty in our McWorld - but enough bantering for now.

Photo: Exploring the Ballard Sunday Farmers Market (Seattle, WA)- Sep.2, 2007

Despite the fatty and salty Saturday night meal at the Red Lobster in Lynnwood (a passable suburb outside of Seattle), there's the foodie side of Seattle that I've grown to love and admire. Pike Place Market has always been a favorite of mine and a must stop when in town. Its vibrancy, historical whimsy, and choice of excellent food stuffs rivals that of Granville Island. On a late Sunday morning, the sun shining and the air slightly kissed by a returning Autumn, me and my girlfriend stumbled upon a Farmers market in the Ballard district of Seattle by sheer luck. Smack dab in the middle of charming and quaint Ballard Avenue was a long line of local farmers and purveyors showing off their produce, flowers, and crafts from their stands. Many of the locals were out and as cheesy as it might sound, there was a real communal atmosphere, and everyone was there to be wowed and inspired.

Photo: Rainbow chard for sale, Ballard Farmers Market - Sep.2, 2007

Photo: Locally grown Raspberries for sale, Ballard Farmers Market - Sep.2, 2007

For lunch, we stopped by at a very happenin' Ballard tea house, Miro Tea, the tea drinker's answer to the omnipresent Starbucks. Their tea selections were mind-blowing, and it became obvious that this was indeed for the hardcore. We shared a Green Tea Mojito (served in a stylish Bodum glass), delightfully refreshing - and noshed on a fresh and tasty Chicken Wrap and a grilled Italian Ciabatta sandwich. The quality of the ingredients were excellent, and reflected the bounty that could only come from the fortune of setting up shop across from a Farmers market. If you ever find yourself in the Ballard district in Seattle, I highly recommend this place for a sensual tea experience, and a quick bite for breakfast or lunch.

Photo: A glass of Green Tea Mojito. Miro Tea - Sep.2, 2007

Photo: Grilled Italian ciabatta sandwich. Miro Tea - Sep.2, 2007

Pacific Sardines

2007-08-26T17:34:00.000-07:00

Caption: Fresh local sardines from Chong Lee.

Oh boy do my fingers smell fishy. I just spent the last hour performing a tedious and painstaking task, one that even the local fish mongers probably cringe from the thought of doing. Yes, that's right, gutting and filleting fresh sardines. Earlier today, I purchased about 8 good sized fresh local Pacific sardines at, Chong Lee (3308 East 22nd Avenue), an Asian supermarket in the Vancouver East side. They were a real bargain at $1.49 a pound, and it was an absolute delight to be able to find them. After doing some online research, I learned that the BC sardine fishing industry was just making a comeback in the past decade, as stocks had collapsed in 1947 due to overfishing. The slow replenishment of stocks had only begun in 1995. Hooray for the comeback of Sardines!

It's generally hard to find sardines in the major supermarkets since they don't sell very well in Vancouver. The sardine is widely perceived as the poor person's fish - small, disproportionate gut to flesh ratio, tendency to spoil quickly and preconceptions stemming from the canned variety - all contribute to its poor image. Apparently, 60% of harvested BC sardines is exported to Japan as a food product. The rest are exported to other parts of the world as tuna bait. Only a very small amount is consumed domestically in BC (BC Seafood Online). Too bad, so sad.

For me, sardines, like mackerel, are seductive. Their flesh is packed with so much briny flavor, and their oily and savory character just make them really satisfying to eat. However, it's not for everyone, as their deep taste of the sea is unapologetic and on the border of being 'fishy'. Nonetheless, to take full advantage of their flavor, I decided to lightly grill them over my portable gas bbq in the backyard. In Sicily, sardines would be gutted and simply grilled whole. However, in this instance, I took the unorthodox approach, and threw the tiny marinated fillets directy over the flame on my grill. Flipping them can be tricky, but with due care, the results can be exceptional.

Caption: Marinated fillets of sardines, ready for the grill.

Grilled Sardines with Lemon Wedges
Serves 4

6-8 good sized fresh sardines
2-3 tbsp of good quality extra virgin olive oil
1 finely chopped clove of garlic
Zest of 1 lemon
Zest of 1 orange
1 tsp of dried thyme
Freshly ground pepper
1 tsp sea salt

Gut, rinse, scale, and fillet each of the sardines. Take care to not remove too much of the flesh during the cleaning process.
Prepare the quick marinade. In a small bowl, combine olive oil, chopped garlic, zest, dried thyme, and ground pepper. Whisk lightly.
Pour marinade over sardines. Let sit for 1-2 hours.
Before grilling, sprinkle a bit of sea salt on the flesh side of the fillets.
On a hot grill, lay fillets skin side down for 1.5 minutes. Flip once, and grill for 30 more seconds.
Plate grilled fillets on a single platter. Serve with lemon wedges, and crostini on the side.

And lastly, don't forget to check out the BC sardine festival! Check details below.

Flashback: Foodstuffs in France and Italy

2007-08-21T21:35:00.000-07:00

After coming back from a short backpacking vacation with my girlfriend in France and Italy, and having a small taste of the vibrant cuisine from their long lineage of culinary fanaticism and ingenuity, I was left hungry and thirsty for more. Yes, the touristy sights of the iconic Eiffel Tower in Paris, the Coliseum in Rome, the Rialto bridge in Venice, and the Statue of David in Florence were more than enough reasons to visit - but nothing made more of an impression than simply eating and drinking.

Back home in Vancouver, produce flown in from Mexico that was put on display at the local Safeway looked bland and uninteresting compared to the fruit and vegetable stands I found in the open air market of Campo Dei Fiore in Rome. The case of the tomato makes an excellent example. Never have I seen tomatoes so red in color, and never have I tasted tomatoes so tomatoey. Beautiful, local and organic produce at its very seasonal best. Most importantly, it is available to anyone who can appreciate it.

Caption: Tomatoes on display at a fruit and vegetable stall in Campo Dei Fiore, Rome - Photo taken on June 9, 2007

Caption: A busy day at Campo dei Fiori, Rome's most popular open air market. Photo taken on June 9, 2007 - courtesy of Steph

Bread, sandwiches, and pastries - baked goods that I'd hardly pay attention to when food shopping in Vancouver - had this certain carbohydrate-induced robustness and buttery lustre to them when proudly displayed in the storefront window of a boulangerie in Paris. And it didn't matter where you were in Paris. You could be in a foodie friendly part of Paris (i.e. Rue Mouffetard), or in the roughest part of Paris - you'd always find yourself looking at really good looking, smelling and tasting foodstuffs. With such wide access to great ingredients, its no wonder the French and Italians have the knack for serving great food simply. Yes, I do believe it - Great dishes always begin with great ingredients.

Caption: Rue Mouffetard, one of Paris' oldest streets, lined with cafes, bakeries, butcher shops, and fresh produce stalls. Photo taken on June 13, 2007.

Caption: Warm and crusty loaves of bread on display in a bakery on Rue Mouffetard. Photo taken on June 13, 2007

This is not to say that Vancouverites back home can't accomplish the same type of cooking, it's just harder and trickier to source the same quality of ingredients. Mainstream food culture is completely different here in North America. We have grown accustomed to shopping in big-box supermarkets like the Great Canadian Superstore, IGA, and the ubiquitous Safeway. True enough, their tomatoes often aren't as tasty as they should be, the selection of plastic wrapped meat is shitty, and Hungryman microwavable dinners are for the lazy, but by God, it's convenient. Honestly now, who has the time to spend hours dawdling in an open air farmer's market on foot, without a shopping cart and aisle numbers to refer to? Or the patience to hop from one specialty food store to another, looking for that award winning Tuscan extra virgin olive oil that costs nearly $30 a bottle? A foodie of course!

I do consider myself a foodie of sorts (but far from being hardcore), and have ambitions of indulging in gourmet cooking when the occasion arises. While I do realize that I don't reside in a farmhouse on the rolling hills of Tuscany, where the sun constantly shines, and the olive groves flourish - I can still gather inspiration from my travels along with a stronger sense of culinary boundlessness, though in an amateurish way.

To be fair, Vancouver is not a town that is exclusively dependent on big-box supermarket chains. There is a food culture here, born from a mosaic of different cultures from around the world. Chinese is the second official language here. Sushi here is like what Tex-Mex is to the United States. It is proclaimed by local food writers that the modern tapas movement started here. And the long-time advocacy of buying and consuming locally grown organic produce is as successful as ever. Not to mention of course, the myriad of excellent restaurants and ethnic hole-in-the-walls that offer great value for the money. So yes, it can be nice to cook, eat, and live in Vancouver.