tacos and margaritas, enchiladas and sangria

You so wish you could come over for dinner when Laura and I are cooking. Check out this Cinco de Mayo spread we put together back in May:



My mother's taco recipe: ground beef with all the fixins on a flour tortilla.

mojito

Mojitos are my favorite drink ever. I do not remember where or when I had my first one, but I do know that I fell in love with mojitos in Madrid, when Marianne, Becky, Laura and I all ordered them at some random bar we wandered into off the street. I usually drink wine or beer, but that night I wanted something a little different, and something about a mojito just seemed so continental and sophisticated. Not to mention that a well made mojito is just so perfect! It's sweet without being syrupy, and I love the squirt of acidic lime juice. Of course, there's also the mint leaves, which make the drink what it is— amazing.

Since that time, I've discovered that mojitos aren't all that easy to find outside of Cuban or Spanish establishments, and that their quality can really vary. (The best ones I've had were the blackberry mojito they used to serve at the otherwise unimpressive Sweet Emily's, and the super affordable $6 one at Esperanto). Nothing is more disappointing than a bad mojito, and there's so many things that can go wrong. It's all about balance: too much sugar, or not enough, or an excess of lime juice or rum can totally destroy a mojito. Because they're hard to find and so often butchered, I've always wanted to make my own.

When Nathan and I bought a huge bunch of mint for our first Master Meal several weeks ago, I jumped at the opportunity to try my hand at my favorite drink. Nathan promised to pick up the seltzer, so I only needed to grab the traditional white rum and limes. I ran to the liquor store at 6:00 on a Sunday, and was thrilled to find they were still open. I walked one block north, and found that the supermarket had just closed for the night, and there was not a lime in sight. You know its a great neighborhood when they'll sell you liquor but not bread on a Sunday evening. Every bodega I entered seemed to sell lemons, but nary a one had limes. Despairing, I headed back to Nathan's, where I had one final burst of inspiration. Hoping against hope, I tried the Harlem BBQ in Nathan's building, going up to the bar with my sob story, clutching my bottle of rum and begging for a lime or two. The female employee was sullen and skeptical, but one of the guys got me a little plastic cup and tossed in a handful or two of lime wedges. Success! I was ready to begin.

Now, I've had some tragically bad mojitos in my day, so I was anxious not to repeat the mistakes that have left me so devastated in the past, (I'm not joking: good mojitos are transcendent, and knowing how good they can be, I want to cry when they fall far short of my lofty expectations). In order to prevent a mojito disaster, I read a couple recipes, and was confident that with a little trial and error, I could properly recreate my favorite drink.

This first thing to do is to make a simple syrup from equal parts sugar and water, heated in a small sauce pan until the sugar dissolves. This takes like 30 seconds of stirring, but you can use regular sugar if you think it's easier. Then you'll have crunchy grains of sugar in your drink, but I actually kind of like that. Anyway. Pour a small amount of simple syrup into your glass and add a bunch of mint leaves. Use a muddler to bruise the mint leaves, releasing the mint oils. We have muddlers we got for free at a Yelp event, but the back of a spoon would work too. Don't be too rough or vigorous, or the mint will turn bitter. Next, squeeze in a wedge or two of lime, and fill the glass two thirds of the way with crushed ice. I tried the first time with big ice cubes, but crushed ice has more surface area and keeps your drink colder. Finally, top off your glass with club soda or seltzer, (or champagne or prosecco to be really fancy), and stir. You can also add an extra sprig of mint for garnish, gently rubbing it between your hands to release the minty scent and flavor.

What I discovered is that while finding a good balance between the rum, sugar and lime is not rocket science, it was difficult to replicate the same perfect blend when making multiple drinks. I used to have two shot glasses, but I threw out the hot pink plastic "girls night out" one when I moved, and the glass one I got at a Yelp event broke in transit. Nathan doesn't have shot glasses either, so I had to eyeball it. Of the three I made that first night, the first was too strong, (I gave that one to Nathan), the second was perfect (and I selfishly drank it myself), and the third was too sweet (and I valiantly struggled through it). I still had plenty of mint leftover, so I made them again the next night with Grace and Laura. This time I made a small pitcher's worth, so everybody's was equally balanced and delicious. Love!

I'll leave you with this fun list of mojito dos and don'ts, (who knew a drink could have so many rules?) and this rather sad photo of the mojito I made. Indoor lighting is a bitch.


it was tastier than it was pretty!

cooking in harlem/chez panisse lobster

dinner on 5th ave

That was the first meal Nathan and I enjoyed in my new Harlem apartment. I have to admit, after a long and exhausting move, to a kitchen with 18 inches of usable counter space, I wasn't in the mood to prepare a big meal. Instead, I breaded and fried some pork chops, an easy favorite of mine. I also cooked up the extra egg and breadcrumbs afterward, which is always a yummy extra treat. For the starch and the veggie I sauteed some spinach and cooked up some tortellini. This time, I went for something a little more unusual than tomato sauce: I defrosted the lobster sauce I had made some months ago while preparing an Alice Water's recipe for lobster stuffed cabbage rolls. We paired it all with a Jose Reyes branded Cabernet that Lauren and Grace had so generously given me. Yes, Jose Reyes has his own wine. Let's go Mets.

a great way to kick off cooking in my new home

Nathan and I had made the initial lobster dish for his mom and his grandma, who had previously given me the Chez Panisse Menu Cookbook after we went to the restaurant for what was an absolutely amazing meal. When we tried to recreate Chez Panisse's amazing food in Chelsea, it was among one of the most time consuming and ambitious meals I had ever prepared. However, it did yield lots and lots of a very delicious and flavorful creamy lobster sauce, which was great over Borgatti ravioli, linguini and the tortellini pictured above.

As for Alice's cabbage and lobster, I think it was a particularly impressive meal, and so I've included the recipe, which Nathan and I followed pretty faithfully. However, Alice has a whole crazy menu with lamb and shit that she serves her lobster with as part of a four course meal at Chez Panisse. With a dish this labor intensive, that was obviously not happening. (As it was, we were cooking for four hours, much to Nathan's grandma's displeasure.) So, when Alice says it serves six, keep in mind that is as first course, not a main. We only accompanied our meal with a nice loaf of french bread, and it comfortably fed four, with lots of left over sauce.

So, without further ado:


Lobster in Cabbage Leaves with Roasted Peppers
(from Alice Waters' Chez Panisse Menu Cookbook, published in 1982)
serves 6

lobster in cabbage leaves with roasted red peppers

The Cabbage:
1 head savoy cabbage, about 1½ pounds
Cut out the cone-shaped heart of a firm green savoy cabbage. Remove the outer leaves and blanch the whole cabbage in boiling salted water for 2 to 3 minutes. Drain. When the cabbage is cool enough to handle, separate the leaves and blanch them for 1 to 2 minutes. Drain them and dry them well. Cut out the large ribs of 12 leaves and blanch them for 1 to 2 minutes. Drain them and dry them well. Cut out the large ribs of 12 leaves and trim them into rectangles about 5 inches by 3 inches.

boiled alive

To Cook the Lobster:
3 lively lobsters, 1 to 1½ pounds each
½ cup coarse sea salt
2 bay leaves
4 sprigs thyme
1 lemon
10 to 12 black peppercorns
Prepare a court-bouillon of 8 to 10 quarts water, ½ cup coarse sea salt, 2 bay leaves, 4 thyme sprigs, 1 sliced lemon, and 10 to 12 black peppercorns. Bring the court-bouillon to a rapid boil and cook the lobsters in it for about 3 to 4 minutes. Remove the lobsters. Strain and reserve the court-bouillon. When the lobsters are cool enough to handle, remove the meat from the tails and claws and reserve it. Remove the gravelly stomach sac and discard it; reserve the shells and the coral, if any.

dismemberment

The Lobster Bisque:
The reserved shells (and coral) from the cooked lobster
2 table spoons olive oil
¼ pound unsalted butter
2 medium carrots
2 medium onions
1 medium leek
1 celery rib
3 shallots
2 tablespoons Armagnac or Cognac
1 cup white wine
3 medium tomatoes
Heat 2 tablespoons olive oil over medium-high heat and saute the shells of the lobsters for 3 minutes. Reduce the heat to medium and add ¼ pound butter (and the reserved coral). Cook over very low heat until the butter melts. Trim and dice finely 2 carrots, 2 onions, 1 leek, 1 celery rib, and 3 shallots. Add the vegetables to the pan and cook over medium heat for 5 minutes. Increase the heat and flame with 2 tablespoons Armagnac or Cognac. Add 1 cup white wine, 3 chopped tomatoes, and water to barely cover. Simmer for 30 minutes. Break the shells in a blender and force the shells and sauce through a very fine sieve. Let the sauce rest for 5 minutes to allow the butter to rise to the surface. Skim the butter and reserve it.

lobster bisque simmering

To Assemble the Lobster Packages:
The prepared cabbage leaves
The reserved lobster meat
The reserved lobster butter
12 chervil sprigs
The strained court-bouillon
Allow one half of a claw and one quarter of a tail for each package. Lay the 12 cabbage leaves flat on a worktable. Place the lobster meat, red side down, in the lower center of the leaves. Drizzle some lobster butter over each package and put a sprig of chervil on top of each. Fold the bottom of each leaf over the lobster, then fold in the sides and roll forward over the top of the lead to make a tightly closed package. Steam the packages to 8 to 10 minutes over the simmering court-bouillon.

cabbage lobster rolls in the steamer

The Sauce and the Garnish:
The lobster bisque
½ pound unsalted butter
1 small red pepper, roasted, peeled, and cut into ¼-inch dice
12 chervil sprigs
Reduce the lobster bisque by half over high heat and whisk in ½ pound butter, cut into bits and softened. Remove the sauce from the heat.
Place the lobster packages on warm plates and spoon the sauce over them. Garnish with the diced peppers and chervil.

Labor intensive, but undeniably delicious, successfully preparing this dish gave Nathan and me a huge sense of accomplishment. However, we did make a couple of changes and had a few difficulties which I guess I should make note of:

1. We did not trim the cabbage leaves into rectangles, which seemed overly fussy and a waste of perfectly good cabbage. I see no reason you should either. I also am not sure what savoy cabbage is, but I used a slightly purply looking one I had gotten from the food co-op, and it was just fine.

2. The trickiest step was breaking down the bisque in the blender. Alice says to break the shells in the blender, so we wasted a good deal of time trying to do this in a leaky food processor. Personally, I don't see the point. In our attempts to force the shells through a sieve, we wound up with some tiny tiny but still crunchy pieces of lobster shell, which was kind of gross. If I made this again, I would strain the sauce and remove the shells, making sure they didn't have any of the vegetables lodged inside. Then, I would go to town with my immersion blender. I probably wouldn't even use the sieve, although I'm sure it'd be smoother and more velvety that way.

3. We couldn't find chervil, which I must admit I've never cooked with, so I don't really know what it tastes like or if it would have improved the dish. I do know there were supposed to be chervil sprigs in each cabbage roll, and that fresh thyme sprigs were not a great substitution-- the stems are too woody.

4. We had spent hours getting everything done, and rolled and steamed all our little lobster packages only to discover that we should have been reducing the bisque by half all along. By this point, we had one very impatient and hungry grandmother on our hands, and bisque that was taking forever to reduce. We ended up serving it in a thinner, more broth-like state, without the extra half pound (!!) of butter. It was like a cabbage lobster roll in a bowl of lobster soup. I reduced the large amount of leftover broth the next day, and it was definitely better for it, although it was still really delicious and incredibly flavorful as we served it.

5. OK, there is no note five, but I felt strange leaving off at four, so let me just say that I'd probably just make the bisque part of this recipe and do something else with the lobster. I might just even eat it plain with melted butter. Yum. Or make lobster roll sandwiches, which I love. This is not to say that the cabbage rolls weren't tasty, but they did hide the beautiful lobster, and I'd like to try serving my lobster in a different way next time. However, I'd DEFINITELY use the shells to make the amazing and delicious bisque. So. Good.

not the liveliest lobster, but still slightly startling, right Nathan?

an old standby

spaghetti carbonara

One of the first things I ever tried to make myself for dinner was spaghetti carbonara. It is deceptively simple: just linguine, eggs, half and half, grated romano cheese, parsley, bacon, garlic, salt and pepper. However, the proportions of these things are extremely important. Perhaps unsurprisingly, my general tendency to wing things, which generally serves me well, often is my undoing when it comes to carbonara.

Unfortunately, this particular evening was a prime example of poorly proportioned carbonara-- dry, and short on bacon. Plus the problems were exacerbated by two less than ideal substitutions: spaghetti for linguine and a particularly pungent parmesan for romano. Nathan will disagree with me but I really feel that the creamy sauce coats the flat linguine noodle much better than it does a round spaghetti strand. That being said, I think that this linguine's biggest problem was the parmesan, which we got from Whole Foods. Normally, I use grated Romano, which is cheaper, but I'm always happy when restaurants serve parmesan. The grated cheese is a big part of the recipe, but with parmesan, it became quite overpowering. I'm not sure whether to chalk this up to simply adding too much cheese, or to the parmesan being more strongly flavored than the romano and therefore serving better as an accent than as a main component of the sauce. You live you learn, although that's not to to say it still wasn't pretty tasty.

I've asked my dad for the exact recipe for my own future reference and to also benefit our non existent readers. Unfortunately, even that's a bit sketchy on the exact ratios. What he's written down is a quarter pound bacon and "lots of garlic," one egg and four tablespoons half and half. I'm not sure how much cheese he uses, or even how much pasta that's for. I know he normally doubles those quantities, so maybe that is what he uses for a half pound linguini? Haha, I guess this is where I get my tendency to just add ingredients haphazardly without measuring. I will add that it is a good idea to reserve some of the pasta water to add to the sauce if you find that it is too dry. This probably would have helped me out on this particular occasion.

We accompanied our pasta with a fresh green salad that we made up at Whole Foods. This is generally a good plan for us since we don't have to buy a whole head of lettuce, which will often go bad before it is used up. We make sure not to add too many heavy toppings to keep the weight and by extension, the price, down. For example, we can make up a hard boiled egg once we get home if we so desire. Usually Nathan is on salad making duty, but on this night I took the helm. I used all three salad mixes they offered at the salad bar: spinach, arugula and micro greens, and topped it off with some red onions and plenty of croutons and blue cheese. I don't recall exactly, but I think we just dressed it with some simple olive oil and vinegar.


blue cheese salad

I'll leave you with a shot of the lovely Picket Fence wine that completed our meal, which Nathan got from his dad for Christmas. I won't tell you what our evening activity was that night, but the eagle eyed reader will take note of the subtle clue in the following photo.


picket fence wine

french toast success

oven baked amaretto pannetone french toast

Despite my doing a totally half assed job, this boozy baked french toast recipe came out pretty awesome. No measurements, just milk, beaten organic food co-op eggs, some cheap ass amaretto, brown sugar, cinnamon, vanilla extract and a dash of salt mixed together and poured over buttered slices of pattetone. I was deathly afraid it would be too dry/too boozy, but instead got the slam dunk breakfast I had hoped for.

I love when a yummy french toasty is all crispy on the outside and runny on the inside. Unfortunately it was taking a longer to cook than the prescribed half hour (I kept underestimating how hot to set the oven) so I popped it under the broiler to finish off and the edges on one side started to burn a little. Minor damage, but still a shame. I normally would have been more patient, but Laura needed to leave for work so I tried a short cut. Unless your bread is at very even levels in your pan, I don't recommend the broiler for this one.

That being said, the broiler is a new-found love of mine. My mom doesn't have a broiler in her stove at home, because there is a drawer for storing pots and pans under the oven. I'd broiled things in the toaster oven, so I knew that broiling meant that the heat was coming only from above, but I only recently discovered/realized that the drawer under my oven is meant to serve as its broiler.

My stove is an ancient gas range which I have to light manually by lighting the pilot and then opening the bottom drawer and lighting the burner there, which is prone to ignite in a rather explosive manner if the gas is left running for more than a few seconds. I never would have thought to cook anything in that bottom drawer had it not been for witnessing my Aunt Cathy utilizing her similarly designed broiler to cook our beloved garlic sweet potatoes, from Mark Bittman's first Thanksgiving column in the New York Times, dating all the way back to 1997. My broiler can crisp things up pretty fast, so you've got to keep an eye on it, but it is pretty darn useful! I'm a little embarrassed it took me so long to discover it, but I'm sure glad that I have!


fruit studded french toast

my sweet tooth wins this round

I ran into a college acquaintance while walking along the parade route yesterday. We both still live near Fordham's Rose Hill campus in our post-undergrad lives. He claims it helps him to save on rent so he can splurge on food, drink and wardrobe. Unfortunately, I too save on rent, but that doesn't mean I have dough left over for anything too indulgent. That's why it's a problem when I learn about $9 slices of almond cake with walnuts and heavenly looking frosting. One day, I will try it, and I bet it will be worth it--unlike the Haagen-Daz Bailey's Irish Cream Milkshake I spent $6.45 on last night while waiting for the LIRR in the bowels of Penn Station. Epic disappointment. Bailey's has a nice flavor when you are sipping an alcoholic beverage, but quickly becomes cloying and overwhelming when served as a 1500 calorie shake. You don't get drunk, just full. It was purchased in the spirit of St. Patrick's Day, but I should have gone with my old standby, the Mint Chip Dazzler. I will never abandon you again, Dazzler. I know now that nothing could be better that your layered depths of mint chocolate chip ice cream, hot fudge, whipped cream, Oreo cookie crumbs and chocolate sprinkles. Give me that coronary in a cone!