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.