In the Rye

Lately it seems like there's no time for posting to my own blog, but I still manage to find a little time to write for others... come read my guest blog about the release of the new Bulleit Rye Whiskey on "Dishing".

Love in the Time of Sunchokes

I hadn't done it in some time, not since we moved in together, at least. Valentine's Day seemed like the perfect excuse, and the sunchokes at the market were calling my name anyway.

I don't cook at home often enough, and when I do it's usually not very impressive. I can do incredible things with ramen. Us moving in together was supposed to spur my cooking motivation; "I don't want to make something fancy just for me, but if someone else got to enjoy it too... ", but the hours in the day have a way of getting away from you. She's probably lucky that the Ballard Farmer's Market happened to be on a Sunday.

When I don't know what I want to cook a trip to the market always serves to inspire. It usually only takes one ingredient, and once I see it the menu starts to form in my head. This time it was the sunchokes. Also known as Jerusalem artichokes, these knotty root vegetables look a lot like ginger, and taste something like artichoke flavored potato. They're delicious when peeled and roasted, but I wanted to do something different: something that looked familiar at first, so that their curious flavor would be more pronounced when she tried it. A sauce was the perfect way to go. I still roasted them, but once they were done they went into the blender along with some chicken stock, Greek yogurt, and lemon juice. I'd prepared the whole sauce in my head before I even paid for the little guys, but what to serve it with?

Market pickings can be pretty slim in winter, but the one thing we always have in spades is potatoes: little ones, big ones, red, blue, and pink ones. Cora's always had a love for crispy potatoes, whether in French fry or hashbrown form, and I thought some fried diced potatoes would play nicely with the sauce. The next ingredient that caught my eye at the market was sunflower sprouts. I hadn't worked with them before, but I knew exactly where I wanted them to go. As I stood there staring at the mound of sprouts I mentally took a handful, tossed it with lemon, olive oil, and salt, then pictured myself tasting them with my crispy potatoes and sunchoke sauce. It worked, and now the only thing I was missing was the protein. My original thought was a game hen, but once I got to the grocery store I saw some beautiful pieces of sockeye salmon. This was pure luck, as it reminded me that we'd been sitting on a bottle of rosé we'd picked up on one of our trips... a bottle we'd bought and held onto specifically to pair with salmon someday. I closed my eyes and seared the salmon in my mind, then put it on top of my potatoes and sauce, under my sunflower sprouts. I paid and headed home with high hopes that the food I was about to prepare would be as delicious on the plate as it was in my head.

I got home and moved all the furniture out of the living room. I dragged the dining table into the center, tied a big red bow around it and put a bouquet of roses in the middle. Then I filled the living room with pink balloons and lit every candle I could find. I put on a shirt, a vest, a tie, and laid out a dress for Cora. I made sure to have appetizers out: hummus, tabbouleh, tomato salad, toasted pita, and marinated olives. I opened a bottle of champagne.

When she got home and came in the kitchen she knew something was up. Maybe it was the appetizers and soft music, or maybe she realized that I don't often cook in my Sunday best. Either way, she was definitely surprised when she walked into the living room to see that I'd converted it into our own private restaurant for the evening. So I sent her away to don her evening attire and got started on dinner. We shared our appetizers in the kitchen while I cooked and she talked about her day, and her excitement was obvious as she took pictures of everything from the table to the food to the balloons to me cooking. I finished the fish and plated the food, and we adjourned to our candle-lit living room.

Nothing gets my ego going quite like those moments when my food comes out just like I'd pictured it, and this was definitely one of those times. The salmon was cooked perfectly. The potatoes were crispy on the outside, browned along their edges, and soft like mash on the inside. The sauce was flawlessly smooth and creamy not unlike a good bechamel, with the yogurt making it thick and firm on the plate yet light and fluffy on the tongue. The sunflower sprouts were crunchy with a slight peppery flavor, and that along with the lemon juice balanced out the sweeter richer flavors of salmon, potato, and sunchoke. She loved it. I loved it. I'd totally nailed it.

Seared Salmon with Crispy Potatoes and Sunchoke Puree

Sunchoke Sauce

• 1/2 lb sunchokes, peeled and cut into 1" chunks
• 1 Tbsp Canola oil
• 1/3 - 1/2 cup chicken stock
• 1/4 cup Greek yogurt
• 1 Tbsp lemon juice
• salt and white pepper to taste

Potatoes

• 2 cups potatoes, diced (if you can't find multi-colored potatoes then use Yukon golds)
• 1/4 cup Canola oil
• salt and pepper to taste

Salmon

• 1 lb fresh sockeye salmon, pin bones removed
• 2 Tbsp Canola oil
• salt and pepper to taste

Sunflower Sprout Salad

• 1 cup sunflower sprouts (or substitute other hearty sprouts or micro-greens)
• 1/4 cup parsley, coarsely chopped
• 1 Tbsp extra virgin olive oil
• 1 Tbsp fresh lemon juice
• salt to taste

To prepare the sunchoke sauce preheat an oven to 400 degrees. Toss sunchokes with oil, salt, and white pepper then roast until completely soft all the way through, about 40 minutes. Transfer to a blender, add remaining ingredients, and puree until smooth. Set aside. To cook the potatoes preheat a skillet over medium high heat, add 1/4 cup oil and let this preheat as well, about a minute. Add potatoes and cook, stirring regularly until almost cooked through, about 5-10 minutes, depending on size, then turn up to high and cook until the outsides are browned and crispy. Remove from pan with a slotted spoon and keep warm in your oven. In a separate oven-safe pan over medium high heat add 2 Tbsp oil. Season the salmon with salt and pepper and sear flesh side down until it just begins brown. Flip salmon and transfer to the oven to finish cooking, 5 minutes or more depending on thickness. While the salmon is finishing combine sprouts, parsley, lemon juice, and olive oil in a small bowl. Season with salt. To serve pour the sauce onto the plate first (it may need to be re-warmed in a microwave briefly), top with potatoes, followed by the salmon, and finally the sprouts in a small bundle on the very top. Enjoy with wine and the loved one of your choice.

An Old Fashioned Cocktail

The Old Fashioned is one of my favorite drinks; perhaps due as much to its history as its palatability. This was the first mixed drink to earn the title of "cocktail" and for years it was known simply by this name. It wasn't until bartenders really started mixing together all different sorts of concoctions that customers had to specify their drink request as "an old fashioned cocktail". Now, after 200-some years of mixological advancements most people have forgotten all about this dinosaur of a drink. Don't get me wrong, I love seeing all the different tipples that a good bartender can create these days, it's just that sometimes all a body needs is something simple, balanced, well chilled.

A classic recipe might go something like this:

• 1 sugar cube (or 1 heaping teaspoon granulated sugar)
• 2 dashes Angostura bitters
• 1 1/2 oz Rye Whiskey
• water as desired
• Lemon twist

Muddle sugar, bitters, and whiskey in an old fashioned glass to dissolve sugar. Add a little water, fill glass with ice, and stir well. Garnish with lemon twist.

Notes:

• I like to use simple syrup (1:1 water and sugar, boiled to dissolve then cooled) instead of sugar when I can. While probably not historically accurate it saves the step of muddling the sugar and makes for a smoother, thicker texture.  in this case sub 1/4-1/2 oz simple syrup for the sugar, and omit the water if desired.

• The real point of this drink is the bitters. Originally these tinctures of barks and roots were consumed for their medicinal value and were too unpalatable to be drank on their own. For a little variation it can be fun to pick up a few different kinds of bitters (Fee Brothers has a line of flavors like cherry, lemon, orange, rhubarb etc.) and try them in place of the traditional angostura. You'll be surprised how noticeable the differences can be.

• The first old fashioneds were probably most commonly made with made with rye, since that's what grew in the in the northern, more densely populated states. That said they're also delicious with bourbon, but they'll be sweeter and less spicy/fragrant. I like Wild Turkey (they make a rye and a bourbon) but if your guests are brown booze greenhorns then you might want something milder like Maker's Mark. Old Overholt rye is delicious as well and usually only $16-$18 a bottle.

• Some people debate over whether it's correct to use soda, still water, or none at all; soda wasn't easily available when the drink became popular, and since the drink was commonly imbibed in the morning for its medicinal value I would guess it was usually diluted with a little water. I prefer it with soda, but its really a matter of personal taste. 

• Don't bother with a bright red, near-flavorless "maraschino" cherry. The the original maraschino cherry (a marasca cherry preserved in its own liqueur) didn't become commonplace in the U.S. until the late 1800s, and it bore little resemblance to the artificially colored and sweetened Queen Anne cherries you'll find masquerading as maraschinos today.  Fresh or dried cherries soaked in brandy are a great do-it-yourself alternative. Adding the citrus of your choice is fine, but again, citrus was not as widely available in the early 1800s as it is today.

If you want to see a great modern adaptation of this classic drink then check out this video from "Raising the Bar" by Jamie Boudreau on Small Screen Network.




If you want to know more about the history of the mixed drink check out "Imbibe!" by David Wondrich, a comprehensive look at how our favorite libations came to be.

Just for fun I've copied the first known printing of the "cock tail" and its ingredients below:

The Balance and Columbian Repository

Communication.

To the Editor of the Balance. Sir, 
   I observe in your paper of the 6th instant, in the account of a democratic candidate for a seat in the legislature, marked under the head of Loss, 25 do. cock-tail. Will you be so obliging as to inform me what is meant by this species of refreshment? Though a stranger to you, I believe, from your general character, you will not suppose this request to be impertinent.
    I have heard of a forum, of phlegm-cutter and fog driver, of wetting the whistle, of moistening the clay, of a fillip, a spur in the head, quenching a spark in the throat, of flip & c, but never in my life, though have lived a good many years, did I hear of cock tail before. Is it peculiar to a part of this country? Or is it a late invention? Is the name expressive of the effect which the drink has on a particular part of the body? Or does it signify that the democrats who take the potion are turned topsycurvy, and have their heads where their tails should be? I should think the latter to be the real solution; but am unwilling to determine finally until I receive all the information in my power.
    At the beginning of the revolution, a physician publicly recommended the moss which grew on a tree as a substitute for tea. He found on experiment, that it had more of a stimulating quality then he approved; and therefore, he afterward as publicly denounced it. Whatever cock tail is, it may be properly administered only at certain times and to certain constitutions. A few years ago, when the democrats were bawling for Jefferson and Clinton, one of the polls was held in the city of New York at a place where ice cream was sold. Their temperament then was remarkably adust and bilious. Something was necessary to cool them. Now when they are sunk into rigidity, it might be equally necessary, by cock-tail to warm and rouse them.
    I hope you will construe nothing that I have said as disrespectful. I read your paper with great pleasure and wish it the most extensive circulation. Whether you answer my inquiry or not, I shall still remain,
    Yours,
        A SUBSCRIBER    

 [As I make it a point, never to publish anything (under my editorial head) but which I can explain, I shall not hesitate to gratify the curiosity of my inquisitive correspondent: Cock tail, then is a stimulating liquor, composed of spirits of any kind, sugar, water and bitters it is vulgarly called a bittered sling, and is supposed to be an excellent electioneering potion inasmuch as it renders the heart stout and bold, at the same time that it fuddles the head. It is said also, to be of great use to a democratic candidate: because, a person having swallowed a glass of it, is ready to swallow any thing else.

On the Flipside

This Christmas my boss gifted me a book called "Fix the Pumps" by Darcy O'Neal. Our job involves a lot of cocktail making and as such we all enjoy learning about their history, but this book isn't about classic cocktails. Instead, it covers another famous tipple that is now all but forgotten: the classic fountain soda. As I read I was surprised to find out how little I knew about these once popular concoctions: the techniques used by soda jerks mirror those used by classic bartenders, many of the ingredients are no longer readily assessable, and a few of them would startle you if you found them in your carbonated beverage today. Example: a whole egg. Long ago it was not uncommon for a jerk to, at your request, shake up a soda incorporating this famous breakfast protein. The result is far from what you would think; soft and smooth in texture with a stable "head" of foam from the whites resting on top. 

The technique is also common to a category of alcoholic drinks known as "Flips". The term flip was first used in the late 17^th century to describe a mixture of beer, rum, and sugar, heated with a red-hot iron. Over time, the proportion of eggs and sugar increased, the beer was gradually left out, and the drink ceased to be served hot. The end result was a simple mixture of alcohol, sugar, water, and whole egg, shaken until chilled and frothed, and usually finished with a little grated nutmeg.

So when I heard about "Mixology Mondays" on this blog and saw that the flip was their theme for this month I couldn't help but join in the fun. Here's a little explanation of this "monthly online cocktail party" from their site:

"Mixology Monday is a monthly online cocktail party. Since launching in April 2006, Mixology Monday has attracted scores of participating bloggers and thousands of curious readers, all coming together on a monthly basis to share drink recipes and related information in a friendly online environment.

The process is quite simple: each month, a host, working with the moderator, selects a theme for the upcoming event; past themes have included Rum, Winter Warmers, Fizz, and Aperitifs. The event is announced on various blogs... and on or before the event date (a Monday — hence the name), participating bloggers join the party by posting a drink recipe or other post related to the theme."

I already had eggs on the brain to begin with... now it was time to put them in a glass.

Sunrise Flip

You can make a decent non-alcoholic drink by omitting the tequila at the beginning and adding 1 1/2 oz soda water after the drink is shaken, before transferring it to your serving glass.

• 1 1/2 oz silver tequila
• 1/2 oz clove-infused simple syrup (recipe follows)
• 1/2 oz orange juice
• 1/2 oz lime juice
• 1/4 oz pomegranate juice
• 1 whole egg

Combine all ingredients in a cocktail shaker and fill about halfway with ice (it's important to use less ice than you might normally to mix this drink, as the water that melts off makes it harder for the egg to froth properly). Shake hard for a good 30 seconds (again, we're trying to make the egg extra frothy). Strain into the glass of your choice, slowly lifting away from the glass as you pour to make a nice, thick head. Top with freshly grated nutmeg.

Clove-Infused Simple Syrup

• 1/2 cup granulated sugar
• 1/2 cup water
• 25-30 whole cloves

Combine all ingredients in a small pan over high heat and bring to a boil. whisk to dissolve the sugar and remove from heat. Let steep for an hour and cool before using.

This month's host of "Mixology Monday" has been the Cocktail Assembly.

Stumpo Sauce

I’m back to the grindstone after a great Christmas break spent with my parents and siblings, my nephew and nieces, and my bro-in-law. I think we all know the holidays aren’t about the gifts or the parties or the excuse to start drinking first thing in the morning; they’re about family and friends, inviting into your home those folks you might not try so hard to see any other time of year, and posting things like “Merry Christmas!” or “Happy New Year!” on the Facebooks of people you’ve probably never spoken to in person. I’m sure we've all found a few messages like this in our notifications or mailboxes (electronic or otherwise) over the course of the last month or two.

This recipe came about from a Facebook message I received written by an old family friend that I have still yet to meet, Phil Stumpo. In fact, up until last month I knew him only by his music and his marinara. My family has been making what we always called “Stumpo Sauce” for as long as I can remember. When I asked my parents for the recipe they provided it from memory. Once upon a time I think it was hand written on a scrap of paper, which now is surely tucked into one of our family's old recipe binders somewhere never to be found again; sacrificed to the recipe gods.

Growing up my family loved to be creative in the kitchen, especially when it came to dinner; we didn't often make the same thing twice unless it was really worth it. There are only a couple handfuls of recipes that stick out in my head from my childhood, so when I got this particular “Merry Christmas” in my mailbox followed by “…have been enjoying your blog” I jumped at the opportunity to ask if I could post the recipe here. I sent what my parents had given me to Phil for fact checking and updating, and what he returned to me is what you see below. It’s a deliciously hearty marinara sauce that goes especially well with your favorite tortellini. I’ve left the recipe essentially in its original form, and added my notes below.

“Stumpo Sauce”

• 1 pound Italian sausage links sliced 1-2 inch thick
• 1 pound leanest ground hamburger
• 2 chicken thighs with skin
• 3 Tbsp extra virgin olive oil
• 1 small white onion, chopped
• 1 celery stalk, diced
• 1 small carrot, peeled and diced
• 2 garlic cloves, finely chopped
• 6 large whole garlic cloves, peeled
• 2 pounds mushrooms, thick sliced
• 1 cup Italian parsley
• 1tsp dried Oregano
• 6-8 fresh basil leaves, coarsely chopped
• 1/2 tsp red pepper flakes
• 1Tbsp ground black pepper
• 2 cans tomato sauce, 28 oz
• 1 can diced tomatoes, 28 oz
• 2 cups red wine
• 10 oz chicken stock
• salt to taste

In large preheated sauté pan, add 2 Tbsp oil and sear both thighs skin side down for 4-5 minutes or until skin is dark brown...turn over for another 4-5 minutes, remove and reserve. To remaining oil and drippings add another Tbsp of oil and sauté 6 garlic cloves on all sides until golden brown, being careful not to burn. Remove cloves and reserve. 

Into the pan add diced garlic, carrot, onion, parsley, and celery. Stir until softened then sprinkle with dried oregano, salt, and red and black peppers. Stir together, add sliced sausage and cook until brown, then add crumbled ground beef and stir until it's almost fully cooked. While ground beef is still a bit pink add sliced mushrooms and wine and bring to boil, then reduce heat and let simmer for 10 minutes. 

When liquid has reduced by 1/3, add sauce, tomatoes, and half of the stock, stir and let simmer for 10 minutes. Drop in seared chicken thighs and continue to simmer for 30-40 minutes on low heat, adding stock a little at a time as sauce reduces. At this point, taste sauce for salt and adjust if necessary, then take the six cloves of sautéed garlic you have reserved and smash them into a paste. Incorporate this into the sauce and then add chopped basil and simmer gently until the chicken thighs start to fall apart...that's when you know it's done. (FYI, thighs only there for flavor, or for the chef's enjoyment...not to be served).

Notes:

• The chicken thighs add a much richer flavor to this sauce then the chicken stock ever could by itself thanks in part to the browned bits that stick to the pan when seared, however since you wont be serving them they could be omitted if desired. (If i remember correctly my parents would use pork chops instead of chicken, and at the end cut them up and stir them back into the sauce. Such is the nature of hand-me-down recipes: evolving as they're passed along.)
• The step of sauteing whole garlic cloves, reserving them to incorporate at the end, then sauteing more minced garlic to leave in the sauce during cooking may seem unnecessary, but it is certainly not. The minced stuff you leave in lends a subtle background note, while the smashed cloves stirred in at the end give you a brighter "roasted garlic" kind of flavor. Both are important to the sauce.
• As a rule, never cook with a wine you wouldn't drink, especially when your adding a full two cups to the dish. Its flavor will have a big effect on your finished product. I have found that both Yellow Tail and Barefoot are good brands for these situations. They're easy to drink and wont break the bank.
• Don't try to hurry the sauce along during the reducing and simmering process; it needs to cook low and slow to reach its maximum potential. Stir occasionally during this time to make sure nothing is burning at the bottom of your pan.