Beer-Batter Shrimp

There are some dishes that I used to believe could only be eaten in a restaurant, as I had no hope of ever having the ability to prepare them myself. Beer-battered shrimp was one of those things. Until this weekend. 

I found a skinny little cookbook amongst my collection called Cooking with Beer. It is of the flimsy little type that one finds at the grocery store checkout. The copyright date on this one is 2012, but I do not believe we have ever used it before. There were two recipes for shrimp. I chose the Coconut (fried) Shrimp rather than the Baked Beer-Battered Onions and Shrimp, although I did take the idea of using panko crumbs from the latter and substituting them for the crushed ramen noodles (ick) in the former.

This was relatively easy, and they fried up pretty quick. The dipping sauce was tasty too.

Pilaf for MENA Awareness

This week is MENA Awareness Week at our university. That is to say, our Middle East and North Africa program sponsored a series of special events to bring awareness not only to the region but to our center that studies the region and our U.S. Department of Education grant that is enhancing those studies.

I was gratified to be invited to give a talk about coffee in MENA as part of the virtual festivities. (See Qahua to Coffee on my Coffee Maven blog for a recording of my presentation.) As we started planning the week's dinners, I therefore decided to check Yashim Cooks Istanbul for ideas.

The book fell open to page 78: Hazelnut and Lemon Pilaf (findikli ve limonlu pilav). I have never been quite sure what "pilaf" means, but I knew this meant rice-plus-something and decided to have a look. The combination of savory flavors and simple preparation were appealing, so I added it to the menu, and we added a few items to the grocery list.

Some of the key ingredients, plus a side of apricots.
On our cow cutting board from a favorite Wisconsin cousin.
As regular readers of this blog know, food does not
always photograph well, so I often snap shots
of ingredients, especially if they are colorful.

I do not always put the full ingredient list on a blog post, but it seems worthwhile this time. The list as published:

basmati rice, 250g/8oz, well rinsed 
salt, 1 teaspoon
olive oil, 1 tablespoon
butter or ghee, 1 tablespoon
corriander seeds, 1 teaspoon
cumin seeds, 1/2 teaspoon
lemon peel, sliced into 3 "julienne" strips
fresh red chile, sliced into thin strips, 1 teaspoon (I used one jalapeño)
blanched hazelnuts, 4 tablespoons
parsley, bunch, chopped

I did not attempt to measure any of these, except the rice and water. I used 1 cup of the rice since we don't have a food scale, and used 1-1/4 cups of water (following package directions) even though it called for an "equal amount" of water. 

The instructions on lemon peel were especially confusing for me -- all of the peel or three little strips? I used about half the peel, making a couple dozen little strips. I do not regret my choice. 

I made a few minor substitutions as well, and completely overlooked the parsley. I will include it next time. Of the spices, we had one in seed form and the other already ground; this was fine. When I could not find hazelnuts in the store, I did that thing we now do instead of asking a grocer: I used my phone to Google substitutions and found that walnuts would work. When I got home and mentioned this to Pam, she reminded me that we had not only walnuts but also pine nuts. I was sure that this was getting farther from the author's intention, but it sure sounded good to me. (Note: after I wrote this, I read the page after the recipe, assuming that it was something about the cultural context of the recipe. It was ore about possible substitutions, and these included both orange for lemon and pine nuts for hazelnuts.) 

I am glad I followed the somewhat unusual preparation steps. I measured the water and brought it to a boil in a kettle while rinsing the rise in a sieve. I placed the rice in a small saucepan and poured the water over it. I added salted, put the lid on and was able to bring it back to a boil immediately. I lowered the heat and set the timer for 10 minutes. (I had gotten white basmati; the brown "Tex-Mati" we usually use has a much longer cooking time.)

While the rice cooked, I melted butter and oil over medium-low heat in our indispensable cast-iron skillet. I then added the spices, followed in a couple minutes by the lemon peel, pepper, and nuts. I continued to sautée these gently while the rice cooked, stirring frequently. I then "tipped" the rice into the pan, stirred while scraping the bottom, and then returned it all to a bowl (should have been the pan, but I had managed to scorch some of the rice). I gently fluffed the entire mixture and covered it with a dish towel, followed by the pan lid. I let this sit for 10 more minutes so that the flavors would meld.

The result: savory rice with perfect texture. We topped with delicious plain yogurt (Stonyfield Greek), the lemon wedges as called for, some apricots, fresh mozzarella, and some delicious basil muffins Pam had made a few days earlier, and which I grilled for this meal. Later, I learned from the page-after material that the author recommends apricots, currants, or other fruits as possible amendments.

We found that a chilled Chardonnay in place of our usual Malbec was a perfect pairing for this meal.  

Skillet Chicken with Mushrooms and Caramelized Onions

I found this simple dish on the New York Times Cooking Page. I had all the ingredients on hand (except I used chicken breasts instead of thighs, and I used whatever kind of mushrooms were in my 'fridge).

The recipe doesn't say to put olive oil in the skillet before the onions, but I did anyway. It just didn't seem right otherwise. 

This recipe has a lot of "waiting" time that was a bit unnerving. For instance, once I put the onions in the skillet it says to let them cook "mostly undisturbed", same with once the mushrooms were added, and the chicken.

Those who don't like to read the descriptions of the dishes on recipe sites, miss out on suggestions such as the one I took to add a some spinach near the end of the cooking. It made the dinner a bit prettier, and healthier, but only those who don't skip right to the recipe will get this reward.

Mint Muffins

I was browsing through the Granny's Muffin House cookbook for something special to bake for Easter and was surprised to find a recipe for Mint Muffins. It had never occurred to me to bake mint into muffins. We had some fresh mint leftover from a meal we made the week before so I decided to use some to make this treat. As with most muffin recipes this was was pretty simple.

First I sifted together:

 2 cups flour
1 T baking powder
1/2 t salt
1/4 c sugar

Next, I stirred in one egg, 1/3 c. melted butter, and 3/4 c. milk

In a separate bowl I mixed 1/4 c. vinegar with 1 c. chopped mint leaves and then added the mixture to the rest of the ingredients.

After the muffin tin was filled I baked at 400 for 20 minutes.

These are reminiscent of the butter mints that you sometimes find on your way out of restaurants.

Tres por uno

 

Dining out does not matter.
But the pins do!
2017 Valentine Day from the Archives

We established a tradition decades ago of preparing Valentine's Day dinner together rather than eating out at a crowded restaurant. In fact, this is probably the reason we have several ribald cookbook titles on our shelves. While we have had some good meals in restaurants on the lovers' holiday, we more often spent our time struggling to find a table, perhaps finding one after a long wait ... and/or much driving around ... and getting a meal barely as good as something we could make at home. Or giving up all together and making something subpar late in the evening. Since we are apparently never going to get the hang of reservations, we just opt for treating each other to a nice meal at home.

Good thing too since a global pandemic made an in-home celebration a necessity this year. We selected three recipes, one from each of three different cookbooks: main dish, side dish, and dessert. Pam was in charge of dessert. James took on the other two. (Applies to the preparation and to the authorship of the next few paragraphs.)

A tomato dish accompanied by ... a tomato dish!

When we met, I was the tomato eater. I grew up eating tomatoes all summer. On hot days, we lived on sugary iced tea and sandwiches made of white bread, Real mayo, black pepper, and huge slabs of Mr. Foster's tomatoes. My brother and I would walk to the end of Owl's Nest Road and then up his long driveway. On his porch were baskets of tomatoes, stacks of paper bags, a scale and a money box. I dod not even remember what he looked like -- he was in the field, and the money box took care of itself. Prices early in the summer were 2 pounds/dollar, steadily decreasing. The highest number I remember was 13 pounds/dollar, after which people were encouraged just to take as much as they were willing. My mother canned a lot of these for use all year. But eating them fresh was best.

Again, when Pam and I met, I was the tomato eater and it was serious. I hardly think of the fruit at all (it is a fruit, just like coffee) without thinking of how central it was in our northern Virginia summers. Pam, however, was not a fan. Ketchup, pizza sauce, sure. But fresh tomatoes? No way.

Over the years, I maintained my prior level of interest in Solanum lycopersicum (though I learned the Latin name only about 8 seconds ago), while Pamela evolved from resistant to tolerant to obsessed over the course of a couple decades. She not only likes tomatoes: she now has a ranked-order list of tomato varietals she prefers ... and we cook with them often.

All of which I am including not only as a rebuff to those who foolishly wish for brief posts on food blogs but also as an explanation for including two fairly simple tomato-based recipes in a Valentine dinner and having the nerve to call them special.

The main course was rosemary-scented lamb over pasta from Intercourses (see what I mean about titles?). Except that I cannot bring myself to cook lamb, and so used locally raised chicken breast instead. I am certain this resulted in a huge departure from the original intent of this recipe, but we liked the result very much. The preparation probably took less time that it took me to write what you've read so far (if you are still reading). I sautéed minced garlic with strips of chicken and bell pepper. I then deglazed the pan over high heat with white wine and added crushed tomatoes and a sprig of rosemary. Once heated through, I reduced the heat and stirred in salt, pepper, and two tablespoons of heavy cream. I tossed all of this with warm, freshly cooked rigatoni and garnished with Parmesan and freshly chopped rosemary, sage, and oregano. Yum!

Meanwhile, I somehow managed to prepare roasted Parmesan tomatoes from A Taste for Love. I heated the broiler, applied Pam (the cooking spray) to a shallow baking dish, and filled it with 1-inch thick slices of tomato. Given the small tomatoes on hand, this amounted to tomato halves. In a small bowl, I mixed chopped shallots, fresh oregano, and shredded Parmesan. I sprinkled this mixture on each tomato slice, drizzled olive oil over all of them, and placed it in the boiler (not to close) for several minutes, checking frequently. When the cheese was just browned, they were perfect.

Dessert: Three-Quarter-Pound Orange Cake

We have a favorite dessert from Molly Katzen's The Moosewood Cookbook: our award-winning variation of the Mocha Swirl Coffee Cake  and while we considered replaying this recipe for Valentines Day we opted instead to try something different. I read out loud to James the Table of Contents for Katzen's dessert section and after considering a few options chose Orange Cake (I added the "three quarter pound" designation to the heading since it used three sticks of butter rather than four).

I made a list of everything we would need for the recipe and dutifully added them to our grocery list. And, we actually remembered to pack them all up when getting ready to go to our beach house for the three-day Valentines weekend. What we forgot, however, was the bundt cake pan. We normally wouldn't run out to the store for one forgotten item so we made a short list of other things so we could justify the trip out. James successfully returned with not only the necessary cake pan, but some elusive frozen hash brown patties as well. 

I started by buttering the pan and then mixing three softened sticks of butter, and 1+1/3 cup sugar (the recipe calls for 1+3/4 but that seemed excessive). Once the butter and sugar were well mixed I added four eggs (beating after each one). Next I added 1 tsp orange rind and 1 tsp vanilla.

In a separate bowl I sifted together 3 c flour and 1 T baking soda, and 1 t salt. And in yet another bowl I wisked together 1 c. plain yogurt, 1/2 c. orange juice. Each of these mixtures were added to the butter and sugar mix by alternating dry with wet, stirring after each addition, until everything was well mixed. 

Once everything was mixed together it went into the Bundt pan and baked for an hour at 350.

The cake was left to cool while I mixed and cooked the glaze of 1/2 c orange juice, 1 T sugar, 1 T lemon juice, and 2 T Triple Sec. I put all ingredients into a saucepan, brought to a boil and then simmered for 3 minutes. When the cake was cool I turned it onto a plate and poured on the glaze. 

This made a lot of dishes and a lot of cake. We will be enjoying this for a while still.

Bundt Cake GIF from Bundt GIFs

Lagniappe

About those pins in the photo above. We found them very early in our marriage, at a pharmacy near our home in Oxford, Ohio. Being on graduate stipends at the time, they probably set us back half a day's pay at the time. We have cherished them ever since. We wear them occasionally throughout the year, but especially on two days: Valentine's Day and our anniversary. We love the compliments we get about them throughout those days. This year we forgot to bring them to our weekend house and then realized not much was lost -- as nobody else would see us to comment! Hence the file photo. 

Especialidad de la Casa

Meaning "Specialty of the House" -- this was the title Pamela suggested when she said I should include this dinner on the blog. It implies something a bit beyond the usual post, as no recipe was involved.

Rather, the concept for this dinner evolved in real time as I considered what to do with a few different leftovers. I set the chicken breasts (about one and a half of them) that were thawed but not used earlier in the week onto a plate and poked them with a sharp knife. I doused them with soy sauce and then smothered them in sriracha and returned the plate to the fridge for a couple of hours. 

When it was time to cook, I heated oil in our indispensable cast-iron skillet over a high flame while I sliced the chicken into thin strips. I then sprinkled liberally with dried thyme and when the chicken was seared and nearly cooked through, I thinly sliced a crisp, granny smith apple and stirred it in. As I usually do when cooking with apples, I sliced the top and the bottom off, discarding them, and then used a corer to make 8 sections. I sliced each lengthwise into two or three thin slices, leaving the skin on. By discarding the tops, I get about half the skin and most of the flesh, making for a nice compromise on texture.

Apple-chicken-thyme, in progress

I then added a bit more oil and a cup of cooked rice that was already in the fridge. Once heated through, I plated this and opened -- as one might guess -- some Malbec. This was so simple and delicious that we will savor today's leftovers (with a shared quesadilla) and will put this in the Casa Hayes-Boh dinner rotation!

Rare Baked Scallops

Careful readers of this space will know that our menu choices are often inspired by the National Day Calendar -- and that we often do not consult it early enough to make a solid plan. In these unprecedented times, we have to balance among three factors: our desire to get the meal right, our willingness to improvise, our ability to improvise, and our willingness to risk an extra grocery run.

To these usual considerations, we added a bit of seaside snobbery to the decision matrix for Friday's dinner. The most important scalloping harbor on the planet is minutes from our weekend kitchen -- we do not subject fresh scallops to heavy-handed preparations, and we certainly do not BAKE them. But Friday was -- for whatever reason -- National Baked Scallops Day -- so we decided to make an effort. Even the calendar page suggests that baking is not the best way to treat scallops, but I must admit I did not even read the recipe posted there.

Rather, I turned to our weekend-kitchen bookshelf for Scallops: A New England Coastal Cookbook by Elaine Tammi, Karin Tammi, and Chris Schlesinger. This is more of a scallop bible than just a cookbook. I decided that if these authors had ideas for baking, they would be good enough for me

I found "Baked Scallops with Bacon Bits" and decided to proceed without the bacon. Even though it turns out we did have enough free-range bacon on hand to have provided these bits, they were certainly optional. I also concerned myself with an ingredient from the recipe on the previous page in the cookbook, "Baked Scallops and Leeks." My lazy reading conflated the recipes, but I do not regret it. Having no leeks -- and being willing only to go to the fishmonger, not the grocery -- I decided to use an onion, but with the mildest preparation possible. So it came to be that I sautéed a thinly sliced onion over very low heat with a lot of butter. I spooned this into the bottom of a small baking dish.

I cleaned the scallops carefully -- removing that muscly "foot" from each one makes a BIG difference in any scallop meal. I then used this recipe's key innovation: poaching. I simply poured boiling water over a bowlful of scallops and let them rest for two minutes before draining. Scallops are so sensitive to heat that even this very mild form of cooking made them all opaque. I neglected to add a bit of vinegar -- again, I was not so much following this recipe as allowing it to exert a bit of influence on a freelance effort.

I then prepared a "wash" by whisking an egg with a bit of water and Tabasco. using indispensable tongs (click-click!), I drenched each one and then dredged it in flour. The recipe called for dredging in bread crumbs as well, but I opted to sprinkle them on top, and then to drizzle just a bit of melted butter over the entire dish. I baked 15 minutes at 400F and then broiled (from the center of the oven, not top-rack) for 5 more minutes.

Baked scallops -- a rare sighting that might become
more common at Whaling House

The result: perfect! I am convinced that the gentle poaching was key -- it gave the scallops just enough of a cooking start that the baking time could be limited and toughness avoided. This paired nicely with a chilled Chardonnay from our favorite local vineyard.

The other key: my favorite librarian, life partner, and co-blogger has asked that I mention an additional key to the success of this dish. I like putting bread crumbs on casseroles; Pamela does not. But some while ago, she realized that panko crumbs are different. She liked this dish because I used panko and not the "toaster shakings" I might otherwise have imposed on the dish!

Lagniappe

Please see my 2018 post Hot Island Hot Spot for information about the McIlhenny efforts on behalf of the rapidly disappearing coastal lands of Louisiana and Tough Shape for more thoughts on the importance of coastal erosion there.