Culinary Confession

Bless me, James Beard, for I have sinned. It has been several months since my last culinary confession.

Inspired by a morbid curiosity, I staged an expedition to McDonald's to order a McRib sandwich. I was shocked by the somewhat decent quality of the roll on which the sandwich arrived, and by the presence of pickle slices and sliced raw onion. Of course, the sandwich was drowned in overly sweet BBQ sauce, which drowned out the flavor of the other ingredients (that's probably the point). The processed pork patty was moist but insipid, just a vehicle to deliver the high-fructose corn syrup sauce. For more assertive pork flavor, I'd go to a mom-and-pop for a Cuban sandwich or bánh mì, or roast a pork shoulder, and make a roast pork, provolone, and broccoli rabe sandwich at home.

When the McRib disappears from these parts, I will most certainly not mourn its disappearance.

Foraging Season is Drawing to a Close

This week, I was able to get my hands on some fine wild grapes, but the clock is ticking, and my foraging activities will be ending soon.

October was a busy month for me, hence the lack of posts (I could have written about Halloween candy, but for an underdeveloped sweet-tooth), but I hope to restart this flagging, lagging blog of mine.

Sumac, Savory Sumac

This time of year is the prime time for foraging for the fruit of the staghorn sumac. The bright red, fuzzy fuits have a sour flavor, and have been used extensively as a seasoning in Persian and Middle Eastern cuisines. Here are links to two takes on a "sumac chicken" recipe.

The easiest way to enjoy the flavor of sumac is to cut the fruit-laden cones off of the plants, wash them, steep them in water (I often do this in a jar left out in the sun), strain the resultant liquid, and sweeten it with simple syrup to make a beverage comparable to lemonade.

Of course, if you see any sumac plants with waxy white fruits, stay away.

Culinary Confession

Bless me, James Beard, for I have sinned... it's been quite some time since my last culinary confession.

On a trip to the woods, I ate... Spam. You see, not having access to nearby markets, and having a small propane-powered fridge, one has to use one's limited refrigeration capability wisely. Therefore, canned or "potted" meat is not a bad thing to take to the cabin.

Of course, Spam is pretty much a salty, oleaginous lump of pink stuff, with a texture not far off from slighty solidified pink goo. It can, however, be edible, even tasty, in the hands of a master Spammer. The key to Spam cookery is to cut the stuff wafer thin, and to fry it until it is golden-brown and crispy. I imagine the stuff could be used to make passable faux lardons, although a salad containing Spam as an ingredient seems to be a crime against both cuisine and nature.

It's True, I Am a Weed Addict

This summer, I have been blessed with a bounty of edible weeds.

My first weedy love is purslane, which I have found in abundance. I usually just pick it, wash it off, and eat it out of hand. Because purslane has such a succulent texture, I prefer to eat it raw. When cooked, purslane has a texture similar to that of green beans. Besides the recipes linked to in this post, I found an interesting recipe for Turkish-style purslane salad (the comments on this post are hilarious- I'll do an attributed cut-and-paste at the end of the post). The lovely, gracious, and talented Aunt Snow (who is pursuing pie perfection this summer in some must-read posts) suggested finding a Persian purslane salad recipe, and a Google search turned up this recipe. Personally, I love the stuff so much, I'd substitute it for just about any green, or add it to mixed salads (if only I could refrain from wolfing sheeping it down long enough to get it into the kitchen).

So, on to the comment which had me laughing so hard- Cebtoo, in a reply to Greengirl's request for advice on how to grow purslane, writes:

To GREENGRL: Try to grow something else. Water once a week lightly. Everything else will die but your purslane will thrive with or without fertilizer, in sun or shade. Once you get some growing, break it up with a hoe. Spray it with broadleaf weed killer, it loves it. That's been my approach for years here in San Antonio and probably could grow 500 pounds or so in 100 square feet if I let it run wild.

Besides purslane, I am a huge fan of lamb's quarters, which grow in profusion around my neighborhood. Lamb's quarters compare favorably with spinach or kale- I usually snip the tops off the plants (so they'll continue to grow), then steam them for use in any recipe that calls for spinach.

Of course, dandelions are delicious, and are instantly identifable to just about everyone.

The nettles are past their prime, but they served me well in the spring. The Japanese knotweed is tough and woody, but I'm hoping to find some younger, tender shoots to munch on.

Yeah, I'm a weed addict, all right. With a little research, and a lot of patient observation, you can also pick up an addiction to weeds.

Sometimes, I am amazed at the effort and resources that people waste on their lawns- they are devoting their energy, time, and money to a plant that they cannot use, and cutting said plant to a length which mimics the length of a sheep-cropped field. When the weekend squire mows his lawn, he's not only trying to imitate the verdant green pastures of Lord Such-and-such, but he's doing it without the benefit of having a herd of sheep to do it for him (and to convert it into wool, meat, and milk). Luckily for my neighbors, I live in an apartment, but if I had a yard, I'd probably plant a lot of perennials.

Limoncello

Limoncello is a typical liqueur from Southern Italy- the centers of Limoncello production are centered around the Gulf of Naples and the Gulf of Salerno. Best served chilled, limoncello is a perfect after-dinner digestivo- though I would never criticize anyone for drinking it before, or during dinner, or on a lazy summer afternoon, or to chase away a winter chill, or... sorry, I was distracted by the prospect of a nice, chilled glass of limoncello.

While limoncello recipes are plentiful on the internet, here's my personal method for making it. First, thorougly wash, then peel fifteen or sixteen lemons (depending on the size of the lemons, and whether the market is selling them in lots of three or lots of four) with a vegetable peeler, making sure you are not getting any of the white pith (which will make your limoncello bitter). Place the lemon peels in a clean gallon jar and pour a gallon of pure grain alcohol (I have to drive to Connecticut to obtain the stuff) over the lemon peels, and cover. Let the mixture sit for at least a week (I leave the jar in a dark, cool corner for three weeks), then prepare a simple syrup by heating two pounds of sugar with a quart of water, and simmering until the mixture is slightly thickened. Strain the lemon peels out of the alcohol, and add the syrup to the infused alcohol (I use a couple of one-gallon pitchers for this stage of the production). Dilute the resultant syrup/alcohol mixture with water until the desired strength is reached (I use a 50/50 ratio, making the resultant liqueur about as strong as a typical vodka). Strain again, and bottle the stuff. Keep away from small children and open flames. A few hours before serving, place the bottle in the freezer to chill. If necessary, dilute individual servings to taste... the stuff is strong.

Here's a still life which incorporates the ingredients of this delicious treat. Look at that forlorn lemon, which has been robbed of its golden integument. Also, note that the contents of the gallon jar, with an alcohol content around 95%, have a clear golden color, while the glass of limoncello in the center has a milky translucency. This is the same effect one sees when one mixes water with absinthe- as the percentage of alcohol decreases, the oil from the lemon peels forms a microemulsion in the glass:





La dolce vita, served by the glass.

Yerba Maté

I honor of Uruguay's world cup victory, I decided to break out my bombilla, and treat myself to some hot, bracing yerba maté. Yerba maté is a tea-like infusion of the pulverized leaves of a South American tree of the genus Ilex, a close relative of the holly tree. This infusion is a popular beverage in southern South America (Argentina, southern Brazil, and the "Axis of 'Guay"). It is commonly drunk from a gourd (maté), using a bombilla, a metal straw with a strainer at the tip which is inserted into the gourd. Yerba maté contains caffeine and other alkaloids, so it has a stimulant effect. Traditionally, the beverage is consumed in communal style, the leaves are placed in the gourd, then hot water is poured over the leaves. The consumer drinks the beverage, then passes the gourd to the designated pourer, who refills the gourd for the next consumer. The first "fill" of the mug is extremely strong and bitter, and care must be taken not to drink any of the "sediment" of finely-ground leaves that may rest on the gourd's bottom. Each additional refill of the gourd results in a weaker infusion, and the beverage actually has a pleasant flavor by the third or fourth "fill" (one has to grit one's teeth and put up with the stuff before this). Of course, those not used to drinking the stuff can brew it as if it were tea (when pressed for time, I'll throw some of the stuff in the coffee pot, and brew a thermos-full).

Rather than a gourd, my maté is an embossed-leather wrapped wooden cup, advertising Pajarito brand yerba maté from Paraguay. Other brands I have tried are Argentina's Cruz de Malta, and the pictured brand, Canarias, from Uruguay:





Locally, yerba maté can be purchased in the C-Town supermarket in Tarrytown, which has a wide variety of South American products (including cuy). Another source for yerba maté (and the best source for bombillas and matés in Westchester) is the Panaderia Uruguaya Las Gemelas, a Uruguayan bakery in Port Chester, which also makes very good empanadas and pastries (their tres leches cake and dulce de leche-filled pastries are top-notch). Also on Westchester Avenue in Port Chester, one can find Inca y Gaucho, a Peruvian/Uruguayan restaurant (and possible future post topic).

UPDATE: For the sake of accuracy, please note that the Canarias company seems to be headquartered in Uruguay, but the actual product in the bag pictured above is Brazilian. The label, however, is in Spanish.