An Old Classic Ngaio Marsh and Kedgeree

 

My problem is not a surfeit of books to read, but of Ngaio Marsh novels I haven't read.  I might be at the end, but now re-reading ones forgotten.  Like this latest, A Man Lay Dead.  The first in her 33 book Inspector Roderick Alleyn series.  From the Publishers:

"This classic from the Golden Age of British mystery opens during a country-house party between the two world wars—servants bustling, gin flowing, the gentlemen in dinner jackets, the ladies all slink and smolder. Even more delicious: The host, Sir Hubert Handesley, has invented a new and especially exciting version of that beloved parlor entertainment, The Murder Game . . ."

Crime comes to a country house: “Any Ngaio Marsh story is certain to be Grade A, and this one is no exception.” —The New York Times

I really don't think I've read a bad Marsh novel.  Anyway, to go with the Golden Age British theme, I made a dish from the era, Kedgeree.  And, as the guests in the story were under orders not to leave during the investigation, a lot of delicious country house food was consumed meanwhile.

Pumpkin, Chicken and Lemongrass - TGRWT #20

An organically grown, roasted pumpkin.  Isn't it lovely?

One of the most intriguing food events I've yet to come across, is called, "They Go Really Well Together", or TGRWT, and features a monthly challenge to combine two different foods, not ordinarily used together, in a recipe, and see how it works out.  I love things that stretch me in various areas, cooking included.  This month's combo is pumpkin and cooked chicken, with lemongrass as an additional option, hosted by John at Docsonz - the Blog.

This particular realm of the blogosphere seems to be inhabited primarily by chemists, doctors and chefs, so I'm definitely out of my orbit.  Zooming along irregardless with the big boys and girls.  The event was started by a Norwegian chemist, Martin Lersch, interested in molecular gastronomy, who states on his site, that it was: "to explore flavor pairings suggested by the hypothesis that if two foods have one or more key odorants in common it might very well be that they go well together and perhaps even compliment each other."

So, there you have it.  This month's pairing is actually not all that unusual - pumpkin and cooked chicken, even including the lemongrass.  You should just peruse some of the previous months for stranger ones.  I haven't gone through all of them yet, but it is one of my goals.  Anyway, this weekend, having some cooked chicken thighs left over, I took off the meat and reserved it.  Then used the bones, together with other saved chicken bones, and frozen vegetable scraps to make up a stock.  You can see where this is going.  Soup.

 Couldn't resist this picture, saved last year, the origin of which I've forgotten.

I  roasted a pumpkin, brushed with olive oil, for an hour (it was still slightly firm, so could have gone another 15 min.) and we had it with butter and blue cheese that night as a side.  The next night, all the  required ingredients were available, stock, chicken and pumpkin. The lemongrass was dug up from my garden.

As a side note, of which I'm quite proud, the seeds, separated out from the fiber, without too much trouble, dumped into a roasting pan with 2 tablespoons of butter and some seasoned BBQ salt, were stirred around,  then roasted at 400F for about a half hour, stirring several times.  I can't figure out why recipes tell you to wash them first??  I mean, what exactly is on those seeds anyway?  They've been enclosed inside a pumpkin, with a bit of pumpkin juice on them, which only adds to the flavor when caramelized with butter.  A very nice snack and too easy as well.

Ingredients
2 cups roasted pumpkin, cubed
2 tablespoons butter
1 tablespoon ground wattleseed (optional)
1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 teaspoon minced galangal ginger
2 teas. finely minced lemongrass (white part)
1 small clove garlic, minced
1/2 onion, diced
1 zucchini, sliced
juice of 2 lemons
6 cups chicken broth
Cooked chicken (I used the meat from 3 thighs)
A hearty grind of black pepper, salt to taste
Lemon basil shreds to garnish

So, the next thing, after the various elements (chemistry term) are gathered together, is to bring the stock to a boil in your soup pot, then reduce it to simmering.   I added my chicken in at this point to soften a bit more, then removed and shredded the meat before adding it back in.  Meanwhile, melt the butter in a medium pan, add the cubed (cooked) pumpkin and stir in the cumin and wattleseed powder (if desired -  I just bought some online, and am trying it out in various dishes  - an experiment). Cook til lightly caramelized, then remove and set aside. 

Heat the olive oil in your pan, then toss in the onion and zucchini, stir fry for a few minutes until the vegetables are softening, then add  the garlic, lemongrass and galangal (or regular ginger).  Cook maybe 5 minutes before putting everything into your simmering chicken stock, including the pumpkin.  Simmer 30 minutes or so to give all the flavors a chance to merge.  Add ground black pepper and additional salt to taste.  Garnish with shreds of Lemon basil.

 

I believe this could be called a Thai Pacific Fusion dish.  We all really enjoyed the flavor combination, pungent, yet not overpowering, umami, spicy and rich, as I did not remove the chicken fat.  There wasn't all that much.  So, take as much off your stock as you want.  I think a little adds flavor and the unctious element.

 

But, the next day, as a further experiment, the flavors having melded even more, I did remove fat from the top, and going with the Asian theme, stirred in about 3/4 cup coconut milk (one of those small cans) . So, ended up with fat after all.  But, the taste was just that added element up the scale of goodness. The only thing I'd possibly add would be turmeric when stir frying the vegetables, just for the color.  Not to mention health benefits.... Also, hindsight being what it is, I would definitely add more lemongrass. It combines well with the chicken and pumpkin, just needs to be more assertive.  Next time I'd add 2 or more tablespoons of the minced white lemongrass bottoms.  And, there will be a next time.

Tricked by Truffles Omelette

Our current Cook the Books selection, Peter Mayle's French Lessons, it turns out, is not really a language course, but a cultural tour of some odd French festivals, fairs and markets (a Catholic mass to auction truffles, for instance). I found it moderately interesting, though his novel, Hotel Patis was a much more entertaining read.

Mr. Mayle, by the end of his gastronomic researches, is apparently ready for a purge, and it is here, at the Eugenie-les-Bains spa, with chef Michel Guerard of cuisine minceur fame, that the food descriptions begin to sound a bit more appealing.  As the restaurant has three Michelin stars, it is no wonder. In fact, it sounds like the ideal getaway for a gastronome, or expense account  foodie.  My dream job.

Though for a dish inspired by the book as a whole, I thought of  his description of the the perfect omelette on page 35:

"It was a vibrant bright yellow, the yellow that only comes from the yolks of eggs laid by free-range hens, and the consistency had been exquisitely judged by the chef, just on the firm side of runny....  the plump, moist, soft-skinned golden envelope that slides so cleanly from the pan." 

 This might be my challenge, paired with something I've long been wanting to try - truffles.  From what I've read it seems that truffles are well matched with egg and pasta dishes.  So, maybe a souffle or an omelette?? The first step, and what proved to be more difficult than  I had imagined, was finding the truffles.  Out of season apparently, and immoderately expensive when in season.  But, I thought maybe a small jar of trouffle honey, or perhaps a very small preserved truffle?? It could be considered my early Christmas present.  I ended up ordering a tiny, wee jar of truffles (Summer variety) preserved in salt, 2 of them, about the size of marbles, truffle butter (Winter) and a small jar of truffle honey.

The initial truffle experiment was with veal chops, which were browned nicely on both sides, then finished a few minutes in the oven.  In the pan, with the crusty bits, I added some Merlot, a little Balsamic vinegar and a small amount of beef stock; reduced that down til syrupy, then swirled in, off the heat, little knobs of truffle butter.  Very flavorful, though can't say that we really tasted truffle. Still not sure exactly what that should be. The flavor must have been overpowered by my lovely pan reduction sauce.  It sounded nice though.  Merlot and Balsamic Reduction with Truffle Butter.

I  read somewhere, in the course of my  research, that the more delicately flavored Summer Truffles shouldn't be cooked, which eliminated a souffle from the running.  So, the next  attempt was an Omelette aux Truffes, which I served with Asparagus Spears in a walnut oil and Spanish Sherry vinaigrette, and a crusty loaf of French bread.  This will be my Cook the Books entry for our current event, hosted this round by Jo at Food Junkie, Not Junk Food.

Here you see the melting chevre escaping our omelette, and the black bits would be the trouffles.

I pretty much followed the directions given by one of my favorite cooking authors, Alice Waters, so as not to do my usual scrambled eggs thing.

First, I  prepared the ingredients, so there would be a casual flow, and not panicked disorder, as is quite common.  I steamed the asparagus, mixed up a vinaigrette, and then while a cast iron skillet heated on medium low for 3 to 5 minutes,  grated the two little truffles, crumbled my lovely, salted chevre and beat the eggs lightly, adding minced parsley, salt and freshly ground black pepper.

Next, I put a lump of butter in the pan and let it melt and sizzle, swirling it around.  Before it browned, the eggs were poured in.  The edges began to set almost immediately, and, as advised, (like me and everyone else hasn't done this before?) I pulled the sides in toward the center with a spatula, letting the uncooked egg  flow under on the hot exposed bottom, lifting edges, tilting the pan, etc.  When it was mostly set I placed crumbled, soft cheese across the center and cooked another moment or two.

Then, the grated truffles were sprinkled down the middle, before folding the omelet in half over itself.

Finally, the lovely, oozing creation was carefully slipped onto a serving plate, where it happily befriended our asparagus in their vinaigrette.  Alice recommends dragging a piece of butter over the top to make the omelet shine.  I thought, oh well, might as well gild this lily, and swiped some of that truffle butter across.

I didn't have an unbroken top, not sure why, but all the flavors were there and fabulously paired with the asparagus.  However, I do feel somewhat faced with a naked emperor here.  Dare I say anything?  Or, perhaps my taste buds just need screwing on tighter?  Is truffle really all it's cracked up to be?  Bob and I were in agreement, couldn't distinguish anything particularly, wonderfully different.  There was the herbal kick of parsley, the succulent soft cheese, nice buttery eggs, and maybe a hint of mushroomy nuttiness.  But, for that, we could have saved a bundle and used shitakes here, foodie fans.  Or, perhaps it was because they weren't fresh from the earth, Black Winter Truffles??  Yes, as it turns out.  With a tad more research:

Winter Black truffles are harvested in the wintertime in the forests of the Perigord and Lot regions of France. They are designated "brushed" which literally means they have been carefully cleaned and brushed, and are ready to use. Shave over pastas; aromatize chicken and meat dishes, winter soup or even scrambled eggs. They are preserved in their own brine or juice, which can be used for sauces or broths. Preserved truffles are a nice, budget-friendly way to add visual truffle appeal to dishes. However, if you are looking to add the pungent aroma and taste of truffles to your dish, we recommend that you explore our fresh truffle. Jarred or canned truffles, sold by us or any other vendor, are mere shadows of their fresh truffle selves and will not, by themselves, deliver the aroma or flavor of fresh truffles. They are great to use with truffle oil – the oil will add the flavor, the preserved truffles the truffle “look”, but preserved truffles should be used only to garnish a dish, or in conjunction to truffle butter and oil during those times when fresh truffles are out of season or when the budget doesn’t allow for the real thing. Preserved truffles out of the jar or can have almost no flavor or odor.

This from the Gourmet Food Store site.  So now we know.  Plus, what I used were Black Summer Truffles, preserved.  Even less flavor, no aroma.  I think I need a trip to France for research purposes..  Or Italy.  In truffle season.

All in all, not my favorite book, but the challenge and experimentation is always fun in a really enjoyable event, that covers two of my avocations, cooking and reading, our Cook the Books Club.

P.S. A Winner has been posted (click on the above link) and, guess what???  Yes, I did win - again. Bow, bow, humble wave, and thank you to our judge, Beth, of Beth Fish Reads, who had a difficult time, as there were so many delicious entries.  Check them all out.

More Bananas, Banana Almond Cake

Well, I just discovered that the ground, toasted almonds in my recently made Banana Almond Cake are on the list of trendy foods.  Haven't decided how that changes anything exactly, but hey, guess I'm just so with it.  I was looking for more ways to use up all our bananas.  Did the Passionfruit-Banana Sorbet, dried bananas, Banana Waffles, even sliced one into my Ahi Coconut Curry, a dish I've been making (with variations) a lot lately.  Then discovered this fantastic cake via Jules at thestonesoup blog.  Posted several years ago.  Back when toasted almonds weren't trendy.  She was ahead of her time.

This so beats Banana Bread.  It's in a whole other league, folks.  There's no flour, so it's gluten free, and the cake is light, yet moist from the fruit and ground nuts.  Toasted ground almonds smell so wonderful - they're in the running with fresh ground coffee, grated nutmeg,  and even, yes, chocolate melting. I want to roast and grind some more, just for the aroma, the flavor of which comes through in this cake.  And, as more bananas are on their way......

I used my Sumeet Asia Kitchen Machine, which was mentioned previously in the context of grinding cacao to make truffles.  It whirs them into submission very quickly. And, after the almonds are removed, just dump the bananas in and give them a whir.  So, here's my version of a now trendy cake. 

 

Banana Almond Cake

1 3/4 cups (250 grams) raw almonds, toasted

2 eggs

1/2 cup (110 grams) white sugar

1/2 teas. baking powder

1 3/4 cups (250 grams) bananas, peeled & mashed well

juice of 1/2 lemon

2 teas. lemon zest

2 teas. vanilla extract

1/2 cup sliced almonds

confectioners sugar to dust top before serving

Preheat oven to 300 F ( 150 C).  Butter a 9" (22cm) fluted flan tin with removable base.  Jules recommends taking a large square of baking paper, moistening it, then lining the base and sides of the tin with it.  I only put parchment paper on the bottom, which was a mistake. The cake stuck to the sides, messing with the nice fluted business.  Even with moistening the paper, it seemed there would be big creases around the sides, but next time (and there will be a next time) I'll do it anyway.

Process the whole, toasted almonds until finely ground.  Beat eggs and sugar until pale and fluffy.  Stir the almonds and baking powder well together, then gently add to the eggs.  Puree bananas with lemon juice and stir into the almond mixture with lemon zest and vanilla.  Mix to incorporate, without over doing it, so as not to deflate the eggs.

Pour into your prepared pan, then sprinkle the sliced almonds evenly over the surface.  Bake 40-50 minutes, or until a knife inserted in the middle comes out clean.  Let it cool in the pan on a rack.

Carefully remove from the tin to a serving plate and sift confectioners sugar over the top.  Serve with whipped cream, or whole milk yogurt if desired.  Very much in the Italian tradition of cakes made with seasonal fruits and ground nuts, great for an afternoon snack, along with a glass of vin santo or iced coffee.

Guava Tarte Tatin for High Tea

A Monthly Mingle High Tea, what fun, and  hosted this month by Aparna at My Diverse Kitchen.   It brought to mind my first experience of afternoon tea as a sort of cultural  ritual.  We were in our version of a "Gap Year" traveling, occasionally working at the odd job.  Landing in Australia, I found employment for a time as secretary (one of many) for a large manufacturing company, and every day at, I believe it was 3:30 p.m., the "Tea Lady" would come around wheeling her trolley with biscuits (cookies to me) and tea. I remember being so amused that these Aussies would have their coffee iced, and tea hot, rather than the reverse.  Hey, I was from Hawaii, via California.

We do have Afternoon Tea in Hawaii at the Royal Hawaiian Hotel, the charming, landmark pink stucco antique in Waikiki, and it is done in the real old style.  For a price.  I took my mother there once and we felt so pampered.

As this Monthly Mingle theme is "High Tea Treats", I have done a Guava Tarte Tatin.  Yes, guava again. It is very simple, yet the flavors are a spicy, sweet complexity.  After making a batch of Guava Compote, and serving it for one dessert, I decided to use the remainder for this tart. Of course, it is not necessary to first make a Guava Compote.  You can simply use 4 cups chopped guava, mixed with some spices if you'd like, or not.  It helps if you've sliced some of the fruit evenly and can arrange it nicely on the bottom of the pan in the caramel, as that bottom layer will be on top and look beautiful when upended.  But if you're like me (unfastidious, i.e. lazy), be comforted, it's not really necessary, and will still taste fabulous.

You will notice my lack of precision fruit arrangement here.  This recipe is adapted from Alice Waters' Tarte Tatin in The Art of Simple Food.

Directions:

You will need a pie pastry or puff pastry, rolled out to an 11" circle.  Transfer it to parchment paper on a baking sheet and refrigerate until needed.  Or, easier yet, use a pre-made, frozen pie crust and remove it from the freezer a few minutes before topping the fruit, just so it softens a bit.

Trim, halve, remove seeds from, and cut into even segments:
3 to 4 lbs. fresh, ripe guavas.
Preheat oven to 400 F.  Put a 9" cast-iron skillet or or stove-top to oven type skillet on medium-high heat.  Then, add:
2 tablespoons butter
6 tablespoons sugar
Let the sugar and butter melt, and then cook til brown and bubbly (being careful not to let it burn), stirring with a heat-proof spoon or swirling the pan so the mixture caramelizes evenly.  Take off the heat when it is a nice, deep caramel color. An alternate recipe, using considerably more butter, sugar and time, is available here, for those of you who (like me) may wonder about the small amount of caramel called for.  However, I will tell you right now, Alice Waters knows what she is talking about. Simple can be wonderful.

Now arrange your guava slices, starting around the outside edge of the pan, rounded sides down, on the caramel, with the narrower tips towards the center (if you're being tidy).  Make another ring of guavas inside the first ring, and so on to the center, filling the gaps with smaller pieces, cut to fit.

Place your pastry circle over the fruit, tucking down between the edges of the pan and the guavas.  Cut 3 or 4 little slashes in the top for steam to escape, and bake in the middle level of your oven for 35 to 40 minutes, or until the pastry is well browned.  The contents of the pan should shift slightly when shaken a bit.  Remove from oven and cool on a rack for a minute or two.  Then hold a slightly larger serving plate over the top, holding it tightly to the top of the pan, and flip quickly.  Alice recommends giving your pan a gentle twist while lifting off.

What could be nicer than fresh fruit, caramel and pastry? Served warm with a scoop of whipped cream, vanilla ice cream or creme fraiche, and you've got it.

This will be accompanied, of course, by lots of other assorted crumpets, tea sandwiches, teas, etc. at our cyber gathering, the round-up to be posted sometime after the October 15th deadline for submissions.
PS - The round-up is now posted.   Check out all the fabulous food.

Composing A Guava Compote

 

More guavas than you could shake a stick at around here, again.  The latest improvisation from my kitchen is a Guava Compote, spiced up with Lemon Basil, zest of Kaffir Lime, and Allspice leaves, cooked in a nice red merlot and honey til tender.  Serve with a scoop of whipped cream or French Vanilla Ice Cream.  I think this might make a good Guava Tatin too.

My ordinary basil plant was not doing at all well.  End of season blues?  Hey, this is Hawaii here, therefore, no such thing.  So, I decided to try a few different varieties. This Lemon Basil is going great guns and the other, a type of Thai Basil, is for some reason, attracting fruit flies.  What's with that?  It's looking fine though.  And, the Abiu fruit without net bags are not getting bit this time around?? Or, come to think of it the guavas don't seem to be bitten either.  Just the small Strawberry ones. 

The Lemon Basil

So, if you'd like to try this, and have another variety of basil, feel free to substitute.  The idea is to get a little spice into the mix.  Cinnamon sticks and lemon rind curls, raisins even, would also be nice to add.

Trim the ends; wash the fruit; cut in half; then scoop the seedy part out and discard.  Slice in chunks, then add:
 to 4 heaping cups fruit
1/2 cup rose or red wine
1 cup honey or sugar
2 Allspice leaves (or berries)
2 tablespoons exotic basil, minced
zest of 1 Kaffir lime (or other lime)
1 Tablespoon lemon juice
1 cinnamon stick (optional)
Simmer all together over medium heat until the fruit is tender, 5-10 minutes.  Let cool, then refrigerate.

Serve chilled or warm with a scoop of sweetened whipped cream, vanilla ice cream or use as your base for a sweet and spicy tart.  The first time I made this, last week, I didn't reduce the liquids.  On this batch I separated the fruit out after cooking, and reduced the wine sauce down.  Don't think it made the compote any better, so probably won't again.  If it's going into a pie, just separate out the fruit and use that.  Will have to try with my remaining compote, and add as an addendum.  Another thing I would eliminate is the basil.  Basil is best fresh, added at the end of a recipe.  Instead, maybe a clove or two and cinnamon stick.

And, here it is.  I know you've all been waiting with bated breath.  The Guava Tart Tatin, though the fruit isn't very precisely or beautifully arranged.  It tasted delightfully tart with that bit of lime and lemon, yet sweet, with Merlot overtones to the guava caramel filling. Right.

Miracle of Fishes and Ahi Enchaladas

This is what comes of meditations in the middle of the night, thanks to the Martha Stewart of birdland, up in my eves.  She's busy at all hours, probably disturbing the sleep of her chicks, re-arranging furniture, cleaning, organizing.  One can only imagine.  Rustlings and bustlings at that hour(s) - 12:30, 2:00 am, 3:30, and etc.??  Maybe she's an insomniac or on crystal meth?  I've heard that sort of behavior is a sure sign of such an addiction. It's now 10:54 am and she's still at it.  Bless her heart.

At any rate, I've decided we had a "Loaves and Fishes" miracle here.  Bob asked a client and his wife over for dinner and brought me home four ahi steaks (as per my request).  I made a coconut cream curry for them, which came out superbly, if I do say so.  They were large steaks, so we had leftovers, plus I hadn't even cooked one of them.  So, then Sunday, I broiled the extra one, added it to the other left-overs, a bit more coconut cream and, voila, dinner for daughter, grandkids, etc., very good as well.

And, still, with the left-overs.  So, several nights later, and only Isaiah to join us, I made fish enchaladas.  Mushed up the last of the ahi (there was also some broiled, chopped onion in there) with a bit of  left-over pumpkin, and a little minced salted lemon; then filled tortillas; heated some tomatillo green enchalada sauce, mixed with sour cream; poured over the enchaladas; and sprinkled with grated cheese and minced parsley.  Baked at 350F for 25 min. or so.

Yes, another awesome meal from those four original fillets.  Bob said it was the best, and I had to post about it.  He and Isaiah waited while I got the camera, suggesting plating ideas.

Afterwards, of course, there was extra stuffing left from filling all the tortillas.  So, the next day, Kealani and I had tuna melts with it for lunch.  A miracle?  Or am I just the left-over queen?

A TASTE OF YELLOW - Guava Pork Chops With Cornbread

A new experience for me, the LiveSTRONG With A Taste Of Yellow event, which is a way of supporting the Lance Armstrong Foundation. As hostess, Barbara of Winos and Foodies says, "by raising awareness of cancer issues world wide. It is a way for all food and wine bloggers to share their stories. The happy and the sad, the struggles and the triumphs."  I have a dear friend, Andrea, who has gone through chemo treatments twice now, and is still dealing with all the resulting impairment to various organs.  She struggles bravely on, with an upbeat attitude, encouraging others all the time.

My yellow foods are the guava in this Pork Chops with Guava Chutney, since we are now back in guava season around here, and also cornmeal in Thin Crispy Cornbread, by Deb of Smitten Kitchen, from her Cornbread Salad post.

So, that's the background for a terrific recipe, inspired to start with by our beautiful, new (opened this week) improved, natural foods store here in Hilo, now carrying fresh, YES, (not frozen from the Mainland) naturally raised on the Big Island, pork chops. I eat pork pretty rarely, given the conditions of commercial hog farms (feed additives, hormone supplements and the like, treatment, etc.) Well, okay, bacon occasionally (frozen from the health foods store) on Sunday morning, when Bob is there to actually eat breakfast with me.  So, it's great to have something in the pork department worthy of dinner, and a recipe for this terrific event.

I, not cooking pork chops for eons, referred to my copy of Alice Waters', The Art of Simple Food.  Simply, Pan-Fried Pork Chops with a quick pan sauce of port wine, sliced guavas and my Guava Chutney, served with hot cornbread and a side salad of fresh greens and pickled vegetables.

I minced some sage and thyme, and added salt and pepper to season both sides of two chops, 1/2  inch thick.
Heat a heavy (I used a cast-iron) frying pan over medium-high heat.  Then pour in several tablespoons of olive oil and swirl to coat the pan.
Add the pork chops and cook them til brown on one side, about 5 min.  Turn over and cook til done, turning again if necessary for even cooking.  Let the chops rest on a plate for 4 min. or so before serving, while whipping up your pan sauce.
For the sauce, I added about 1 cup of of red dessert wine, you can use Port or Marsala, stirring up the bits of pan drippings, and reduced by half.  At the end I added a sliced, de-seeded guava and about 1/2 cup guava chutney, then simmered a few more minutes. Finally, turned off the heat and swirled in a bit of butter, about

1/2 teaspoonful at a time to enrich the sauce, a tablespoon in all.  Or, you could use cream and heat it through.

 

Pour over the pork chops and serve with thin crispy cornbread (which wasn't all that thin, really).  Recipe at Deb's site above, or use your favorite cornbread.  I'm going to do the salad she posted, so wanted to try her recipe.  It was denser than I'm used to, not calling for any flour, only cornmeal, but good.

Deconstructed Tenderloin BBQ

In line with the theme of using more of what is growing outside, I have come up with a new take on an old standard around here - Teriyaki Sauce.  In Hawaii, Teriyaki BBQ'd Chicken is a year-round staple. However, I just couldn't see having Bob go through firing up the BBQ and getting a bunch of charcoal to white hot, for like 2-3 minutes on each side of cooking, which is all this tenderloin, cut in 1/4 inch strips, took to broil.  I can stand the oven being on for that amount of time.  Besides which, he was recovering from a bad cold.  Poor guy.  So, this is a deconstructed Steak Tenderloin Teriyaki, with off the skewer zucchini, onion, and red bell pepper.

Isn't the fruit weird looking?

I'm using more of my Kaffir Lime leaves and fruit lately.  Before it was just the leaves occasionally in Thai cooking. Now we're finding uses for the fruit itself.  I used the zest recently in Ono with Pia and a Shrimp Risotto.   For this Teriyaki marinade, thin slices of the limes were added, which gave the meat a wonderful limey zing. It's now on my personal, internal, teriyaki recipe card.  There's no real recipe for teriyaki sauce, you just start adding spices to your base of shoyu (soy sauce).  But, in this case, I'll list what ingredients I included.

Teriyaki Marinade

1 cup shoyu (preferably naturally aged)
2 tablespoons roasted sesame oil
1 tablespoon minced ginger
2 tablespoons Mae Ploy  Sweet Chili Sauce
1 clove garlic, pressed
1 Kaffir lime, thinly sliced

For the Deconstructed BBQ

1 lb. beef tenderloin, sliced about 1/4 " thick
1/2 zucchini, sliced thinly
1/2  red bell pepper, sliced thinly
1/2 onion, cut in thin wedges

In a dish large enough for the meat and marinade, mix all the ingredients together well.  Add the meat and marinate for about 15 min.., then add the vegetables, stir together, and remove from marinade.  Arrange in a roasting pan with the meat on top.  Set oven on broil and grill about 4" from flame for 2-3 minutes on each side.  Or, until as done as you prefer.  I like mine still pink inside.

Use more vegetables if you like.  That's just what I had on hand.  This recipe was enough for 2 adults and 2 children (who don't care if they have any vegetables anyway).  But, I served it with a big ripe tomato, sliced and tossed with basil leaves, and rice on the side.We usually have a piece of tenderloin, as is.  Just barely done, and it is enough.  This is just over the top of awesomeness.  And, those strange little kaffir limes are going to be getting a lot more use around here.

Impossible Chicken 'n Vegetable Pie

This is actually about Impossible Pie, but I couldn't resist putting up that photo, taken my daughter, Sunny.

To begin with, I was going to make quiche with a bit of left-over chicken from two nights before and, I'm ashamed to admit, had none of those lovely frozen Whole Foods type pie crusts left in my freezer.  Well, we all (almost all) know what Michael Pollan would have to say about such heresy.  So, I'm not perfect.  Then,  I remembered a famous Bisquick invention from our distant past - Impossible Pies. And, piling heresy upon heresy, as there was some baking mix??! in the fridge....

Should I mention, that baking mix was bought, thanks to Nancy and her recipe for Southern Cobbler? Which I still need to make. Thanks Nancy.

Back to Impossible Pies.  The fabulous thing is, you can use whatever happens to be on hand.  I had half of one red bell pepper, a handful of green beans, some left-over bbq'd chicken, as mentioned, and the last of that wonderful feta, recently made.

I had forgotten how good those pies can be, and this was no exception.  Fast too.  Everything gets dumped into the pie pan, into the oven, and there it is.  Almost instant quiche.

Impossible Chicken 'n Vegetable Pie

Ingredients
1 small onion, peeled and chopped
1/2 red bell pepper, chopped
1/4 cup chopped shitake mushrooms
1 cup green beans, chopped
1 1/2 cups shredded cheddar cheese
1 cup feta or ricotta
1 1/2 cups cut-up cooked chicken
1 1/3 cups milk
3 eggs
3/4 cup baking mix ** see note below
3/4 teas. salt & 1/4 teas. pepper, minced parsley or basil

Heat oven to 400 F; butter your 10x1 1/2" pie plate.  Rinse, dry & chop the vegetables. Feel free to use what you have available.  Cut up the chicken and distribute evenly in the pie plate with vegetables.  Grate cheese, crumbling the feta or ricotta and sprinkle over the top. Beat eggs, milk and baking mix til smooth with wire whip (or15 seconds in blender). Pour over the ingredients in pie plate.

Bake 25-35 minutes or until knife inserted into the center comes out clean.  Cool for 5 minutes or so.
6-8 servings
**  Note - I should mention, if you are out of Bisquick, or don't want to use it, a good substitution for 1 cup of baking mix is:

1 Cup flour, 1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder, 1/4 teas. salt and add for each cup 1 tablespoon melted butter when you make a recipe.

Very satisfying, served with a small salad and some fresh bread.  Don't know why I've overlooked this for so long.

Sichuan Tofu with Vegetables

I can't remember when I've enjoyed a book quite as much as The Last Chinese Chef, by Nicole Mones. I had first read A Cup of Light by the author, and it was terrific, but this one, our Cook the Books selection for July/August,  is my favorite yet. The combination of suspense - who will win the competition - romance, explanation of fascinating Chinese culinary traditions, and her tempting food descriptions, is unbeatable. I so wanted to be at those meals and try all of that fantastic food. I was especially intrigued by the Chinese use of herbs and flavors to correct or modify each other and even to influence and heal something as deep as grief in the psyche of the diner, as Sam (the Chinese Chef she meets) did for Maggie with his chicken dish.

The story resonates with anyone who has gone through great loss and change in life, as it tells the story of a recent widow, trying to adjust.  In the novel, Maggie, our protagonist,  is able to shift from grief to a place beyond her past.  The trip to China is a kind of metaphor for going  forward, into a future of adventure and positive change, both physically and emotionally.

My first response was to contact an old family friend, I wanted to pick her brain as to restaurants in Honolulu and, possibly?? Hilo? Any that might have the sort of food described in our book. I remember having wonderful meals in Hong Kong eons ago, but figured with the large Chinese population here there should be something fabulous and authentic closer to home. Like the heroine in The Last Chinese Chef, I have been unimpressed with our local Chinese-American restaurants. And, Bob does not really like Chinese food. So, we've been in avoidance mode.  Still haven't found anything comparable to the book's fabulous standard.

Ono with Pia

We think the pia (also known as tapioca, manioc, cassava) came with the pigs who wandered on and off our land before it was fenced, before we had a dog. They love the plant, and broken bits took root here and there. Now we have one remaining patch which needs better cultivation, as passion fruit vines are growing around and over it, making the tubers difficult to harvest.

Pia is frequently misidentified in Hawaiiana books as "arrowroot", which is a term often used in a generic sense. It is not the Arrowroot plant I am talking about here.

I've used pia only occasionally over the years, but have been doing a bit more research into the plant as part of my ongoing desire to eat more food actually grown by me or produced locally. As far as starches go, I've only just become aware of the prevalence of manioc or pia consumption. Cassava is the third largest source of carbohydrates for human food in the world. Why eat potatoes (which don't do well at our elevation)? We're now growing taro, sweet potatoes, breadfruit, tapioca, and more recently, cooking banana. That about covers the carbs.

This week, before even reading that the leaves die back when the roots are ready, I decided pia would be the perfect accompaniment for my Ono (Wahoo) in Coconut Cream sauce. I manaaged to find a few medium size tubers and got a sweet potato with them. As you see below.

Here I'm cutting the peeled tubers into chunks and then soaking in water until ready to cook. The raw leaves and roots contain toxins (cyanogenic glucosides) in this case, as does taro, which need to be removed prior to eating. I usually cover with water, bring to a boil, then pour off and repeat the process about 3 times, cooking til tender on the last boil.

Nothing fancy here, just the boiled pia, and lonely sweet potato, but served with Ono in Coconut Cream Sauce, fantastic.

Ono in Coconut Cream Sauce

Dump the following onto a piece of waxed paper and mix:
3-4 kaffir lime leaves, minced as fine as humanly possible (or in a machine)
3 Tablespoons Spelt flour
2 tablespoons Garlic Gomasio (contains sesame seeds, sea salt & garlic) or salt to taste
pepper to taste
2 fillets Ono (Wahoo)
Coat the fillets of Ono on both sides with the dry mixture.

Heat a skillet and add1 tablespoon ghee or olive oil. Fry the fish fillets at a fairly high heat for several minutes on each side, until just barely done, then remove to a plate and set aside.

Turn the heat off and allow skillet to cool slightly. Add 1 cup white wine to the pan (carefully) turn heat back up to high and reduce by about half, then add 1/2 cup coconut
milk (thick) and stir well, sprinkling in some of the remaining dry seasoning mix, stirring all the while. When it has thickened enough, pour over the fish and serve with your pia (or potatoes or rice).

There it is, that crusty, tangy coating in the creamy sauce is unbeatable in my humble opinion. Ono in Hawaiian means good, and it certainly is.

Fast, But not Fast Food

The weather is so hot, I'm into whatever edibles are quick and easy. Here, I definitely do not mean "Fast Food", so called. By way of another blog, I linked to Michael Pollan's recent NY Times article on the subject, "Out of the Kitchen, Onto the Couch", which was entertaining as well as excellent. Most TV cooking shows are all about keeping viewers and selling product, not really about encouraging us to cook food ourselves. However, I did disagree with one statement, he makes: "yet all American women now allow corporations to cook for them whenever they can." Mr. Pollan needs to read some of the thousands of food blogs floating around the internet. We have proven that idea wrong, many times over.

This was my lunch yesterday. Since it was so colorful, tangy and downright tasty, and being a blogger, of course I had to take it's picture. The Summer Salad took less than 5 minutes tops to assemble. I started by dumping into a salad bowl the following:

Fast and Easy Summer Salad

1 cup of cooked, marinated, cold white beans
1 handful of arugula leaves
3-4 cloves pickled garlic (or to taste)
3 or 4 halved Kalamata olives
5 or 6 cherry tomatoes (or a sliced larger one)
Ricotta or Feta crumbled on top
Toss all together

Yes, it does help to have a jar of your own beans marinating in the fridge. And, pickled garlic, but you get the idea - whatever you do have pickling or marinating will likely work. I had just made another batch of Feta and Ricotta, but that's usually a staple anyway. Great on a hot summer day, or for dinner in a larger amount with some fresh bread.

Pineapple Mint Sorbet

It's always delightful when our pineapples start turning just that bit of gold, signaling ripeness. Though it never fails that I anticipate sooner, and pick one before it's ready. This years poor specimen is sitting on a shelf waiting for signs of edibility. It's not like in the market where you can easily pick one up, and sniff for that fragrant pineapple smell. When fruit is on the plant, it would require getting down among the prickly leaves, so I usually just look for the color, and then, do the pull-on-a-leaf-to-see-if-it-is-loose test. Obviously not always infallible. These are what locally we call White Pineapples, and are fully ripe when only partly yellow. They are the best and sweetest of any variety known to man. I am not kidding.

Here you can see what I mean. It's not the bright yellow of standard commercial pineapples. I have a few of those also, but they need to be kept separate from the others so they don't cross pollinate.

These ornamental Bromeliads are in the pineapple family and bloom at the same time. I guess I should say that pineapples are Bromeliads.


For quite a few years, as we've been planting more and more pineapples, I've enjoyed the combination of mint with the fresh fruit, so thought that would be a winning addition to my Pineapple Sorbet. And seeing as mint is flourishing in our garden as well, this dish just cries out to enter the GYO (Grow Your Own) event of August 15 (#33), hosted by momgateway.

For this sorbet I decided to use Agave Nectar rather than sugar for an even more natural dessert. The recipe is almost too simple and so ridiculously easy, it makes the work to rewards ratio totally lopsided. All you do is juice enough pineapple to make 4 cups juice. That was about 2 medium pineapples. Then add 1/3 cup Agave Nectar (or 1/2 cup sugar) depending on the sweetness of your fruit, and 1/2 cup minced mint. That's it. Dump into your ice cream maker, adding the mint when it's almost finished. I think a bit of coconut cream and a few tablespoons of white rum wouldn't hurt, for a Pina Colada Sorbet. But, then AA people wouldn't be able to have any. Or kids. Unless you didn't tell them. Also, the addition of alcohol inhibits the tendency sorbet has to freeze solid. Cream helps with that too. All in all this was a delightful and refreshing dessert. Sooo good and completely guilt-free. Not that I get guilty about sweets.