trans Fatty Blog

Turkey Talk

It's time to line up the turkey if you haven't already. This year I'm going with an organic bird from New Leaf Natural Grocery. Their turkeys are raised by Amish farmers from Indiana, which sounds pretty authentic to me. 

I'd be tempted to try one of the live poultry shops where you finger your bird and they slaughter it on the spot, except that my wife may be doing the pickup this year and she wouldn't be into that. (It's not about sadism; it is about accepting the reality of where your food actually comes from.) In Chicago, try Chicago Live Poultry at 2611 S. Ridgeway (773-542-94510) or 6421 N. Western (773-381-1000), Alliance Poultry at 1636 W. Chicago (312-829-1458) or John's Live Poultry and Egg Market (773-622-2813). This is the freshest product you will find.

You can also buy organic turkey at Whole Foods (I assume, to be honest I didn't check), order a heritage turkey online, or ask around at the local farmer's market (some of which have winter hours, for example the Chicago Green City Market moves into the Kovler Lion House at the Lincoln Park Zoo.)

Or you can just head down to the local supermarket and pick one up. No shame in that either.

On the organic question, I will say that while I don't always agree with the hard-core Frankenfood lobby, I have come to the opinion that for poultry and livestock, organic is the way to go. I have an old-fashioned notion that up until the moment when they become my dinner, animals ought to be allowed to live like animals. (On that logic I suppose you could say that farming in general is wrong, but I don't go that far. I'm not saying it makes sense, just that it works for me.)

What I don't recommend, if you can avoid it, is buying a frozen turkey. Defrosting it in your refrigerator takes days, and unless you have plenty of extra space, this is a pain. You can also defrost it much more quickly under cold running water, but this is a pain too. Defrosting it on the counter has been vetoed by the food safety police.

Poultry 101

With Thanksgiving just around the corner, it's time to roast a chicken. Think of it as a practice run, so when turkey time rolls around you'll be ready. It's much easier than you think, and you can save the bones and use them to make stock for your Thanksgiving gravy.

Wok Season

A few months back I picked up an old spun steel wok in a resale shop for about three bucks. It was rusty, but the rust came off easily as I figured it would. Now it's time to season it, which will take longer.

The procedure is described on plenty of other sites, for example this one. I did the first round over a burner on my stove but next time I might try the grill outside to avoid smoking up the house. Over time, the wok should obtain a deep black patina like the one on my cast iron skillet. It's the beauty of a thing that can be maintained only through use.

Finishing Sauces

So... you've made brown stock, bought yourself a nice hunk of beef chuck, and made a terrific pot roast. Or, you've just roasted some poblano peppers and pureed them in milk or cream. Or you've just roasted your Thanksgiving turkey and you're ready to make gravy from the pan leavings.

Either way, you've got some liquid flavor simmering in a pot somewhere, and you're ready to transform that liquid into a fabulous sauce. Generally this involves three things:

1. Thicken the sauce
2. Adjust the seasoning
3. Finish with whole butter or cream

Basic Pot Roast

This recipe for beef pot roast uses a combination of brown beef stock and red wine as the cooking liquid. If you don't have brown stock, canned chicken stock will do in a pinch. (I avoid canned beef stock, which has an artificial taste that doesn't go away no matter how long I cook it.)

The same basic procedure can be used to cook just about any tough, sinewy cut of meat or poultry: lamb or veal shanks, beef short ribs, duck legs, a well-aged stewing hen (coq au vin). The liquid and seasonings should be adapted to fit the main ingredient, but the method, known as braising, doesn't change.

One other thing: When you're at the butcher staring down that slab of beef chuck, you'll probably be thinking, that is one unattractive cut of meat. That's because chuck comes from the shoulder, one of the most-used muscles on the whole animal. But don't worry, those seams of connective tissue will dissolve and flavor the sauce. Try to choose a roast that has a regular shape and will hold together while cooking. The top blade roast is ideal (also called the top chuck roast or chuck roast first cut). Avoid the 7-bone roast, because the bone (shaped like the number seven, hence the name) makes it hard to cut. You can also choose a round or rump roast from the rear of the cow, which looks better in the store because it has less fat and connective tissue, but it also has less flavor.

Brown Stock

When the talk turns to pot roast, it's time to make stock. You can braise with red or white wine, canned tomatoes, mushroom or vegetable broth, juice, or even water. But for the richest, heartiest soups, stews, and sauces, there's no substitute for brown stock.

Stocks can be classified as white or brown depending on whether the meat and bones are roasted beforehand. White stock is valuable in cooking as a relatively neutral flavor base, and because it tastes most like the thing it was to begin with: chicken, fish, or (less commonly) beef or veal. Brown stock, put simply, is all about browning.

Sourdough Bread

Mention sourdough, and most people think of San Francisco. But once upon on a time, all bread was made this way. Not just a specific type of bread, sourdough is a process for leavening bread using "wild" yeast from the natural environment. Until commercial yeast became available in the 19th century, sourdough was the only way to go.

The science of bread making relies on two relatively simple phenomena: The tendency of certain proteins found in wheat, when mixed with water, to form a web of rubbery filaments called gluten that have the capacity to expand as they trap gas in tiny pockets; and the tendency of yeast, if given a moist lump of flour to chew on, to digest starch and burp out carbon dioxide gas. Since yeast is to the botanical world what dust is to closets -- found practically everywhere, even the air -- these two phenomena were bound to collide sooner or later.

Hummus

The posting on shawarma continues to generate more hits than anything else I've written on this blog, so it's time to visit that other Middle Eastern classic, hummus.

Hummus is a great example of a recipe that's easy to make, but rarely made well (at least outside the Middle East). Sure it's easy. Mashed chickpeas. Nothing fancy there. But when a recipe has so few ingredients, there's nothing to hide behind if any of the flavors is off. The secret is to balance the tahini with the right amount of fresh lemon juice (not bottled), and avoid the tempation to add too much garlic.

Hummus is not made from black beans, roasted garlic, or red peppers. You can make a tasty dip using any of those ingredients, but it won't be hummus. And please don't garnish it with alfalfa sprouts. All you need is olive oil, paprika, and a bit of parsley. If you must add something else, use pine nuts.

Chicken Stock

Chicken stock must be one of the most frequently published recipes in the world. Does anybody really need another version? Not if you already have a method you like, and use it regularly. But if you've never made real stock, or you're convinced you don't have the time to do it more than once a decade, read on.

Chefs and foodies love to rhapsodize about stock-making, and with good reason. The French regard stocks as the foundations of cuisine, used to flavor soups, sauces, stews, braises, pastas, rice dishes, you name it. When you dip your filet mignon into a sauce so meltingly rich that it makes you swoon, there's a good chance that what you are tasting is the quality of the stock.

Making stock requires an act of faith on the part of the cook. Nobody sees you do it. You have to start cooking a day or more in advance, trusting that all that invisible effort will shine through in the final product. If you substitute canned broth, will anybody know the difference? The result may still taste good, but if you ever want your food to transcend good, stock is one of the fundamentals that separates the amateurs from the pros. The line between the ordinary and the sublime begins here.

Although a whole chicken (or meat or fish) can be used for maximum flavor, stocks are most often made from bones and trim, for reasons of cost. To me, this is the best way to fully utilize the animal, and the transformation of the raw ingredients feels almost like kitchen alchemy, taking the stuff that might otherwise be discarded as garbage and turning it into liquid gold.

Sourdough Focaccia

I promised a friend I'd post this recipe as an example of how to use sourdough starter. If you're new at bread baking, focaccia is great way to start because it's pretty forgiving. It's also well suited to long, slow, fermentation at room temperature or below, which is handy if you don't have a proofing box (used by bakers to keep the dough warm while it rises). The only thing it's not well-suited to is people who are in a hurry. But that's true of almost any yeast bread.

If you don't know what a sourdough starter is, or how to make one, stay tuned, I will post something soon. And trust me, you will like it, even if you're not from Alaska. Once upon a time all bread was made this way.

SPONGE
2 cups white starter (should be about like pancake batter, but lumpier, maybe a tad thicker)
1 cup warm water (not hot, just warm)
1 packet (1/4 oz) dry-active yeast (or less, see below)
1 tablespoon honey
1 tablespoon olive oil

DOUGH
2 teaspoons salt
4 cups bread flour

TOPPINGS (OPTIONAL)
Carmelized onions
Parmesan cheese
Olive oil
Fresh basil and thyme
Salt and pepper

1. Create a sponge by mixing the first 5 ingredients (starter, water, yeast, honey, and olive oil). Set it in a cool place (ie, not on the oven or in direct sunlight) to ferment until bubbly, maybe 30-40 minutes. The idea here is jump-start the yeast by giving it a nice warm sugary solution to feed on. If you see bubbles, you know the yeast is on its way. Personally I use a bit less than the full packet of yeast because I like a slow fermentation (rise). If you're a purist and you have a very active starter, you can skip the commercial yeast altogether.

2. Add the 2 remaining ingredients (salt and flour) and mix until a dough forms. If your mixer has a dough hook attachment, use that. Otherwise you can knead by hand, although the dough may be a little wet to be easily workable. Work the dough until it is smooth and elastic in your fingers, about 6-8 minutes. Shape the dough into a smooth ball, set the ball in a clean mixing bowl, drizzle on a bit of olive oil, and cover with plastic wrap to keep it from drying out.

3. Set the dough in a cool place and let it ferment (rise) until it doubles in size. This may take 4-6 hours or longer, depending on the local temperature, the amount of yeast you used, and how active your starter was to begin with. Be patient.

4. Line a half sheet pan (12" x 17") with parchment paper and brush or spray with olive oil. (If you don't have parchment, you can try lining the pan with thin layer of corn meal, but parchment is recommended.)

5. Punch the dough once or twice to force out the air, and set it in the sheet pan. Use your fingers to gradually spread the dough to fill the pan out to the corners. If it doesn't want to spread all the way immediately, let it rest a few minutes and try it again.

6. Cover the dough with plastic wrap again (you can use the same piece you used before) and let it rise until it bulges out of the pan.

7. Dimple the dough with your fingers, basically pressing in every inch or two to make a bunch of holes. The holes add to the surface area, adding texture and visual appeal. They also tend to fill up with any toppings you add, creating little pockets of flavor.

8. Let the dough rest a bit longer. This is called benching, and allows the gluten proteins in the dough to relax. (More on gluten in another post.)

9. While the dough benches, preheat your oven to 400°F.

10. Top the dough as desired (see below) and bake until golden on top and crispy on the bottom. Remove from the pan immediately, and cool.

Toppings

Topping a focaccia is an art in itself. You can go minimal, brushing with a bit of olive oil, salt, and pepper, or you can pile on the toppings to produce what amounts to a thick-crusted pizza. Personally I like enough topping to add interest, but I want bread, not pizza. My favorite version is to brush the doubh with olive oil just before baking, followed by some tomato paste (thinned with more olive oil to make it easier to spread). Season with thyme, salt and pepper, and add a thin layer of carmelized onions (two large onions cooked until nicely browned). Bake for 10 minutes, then add a layer of parmesan cheese, and return to the oven until done. Finally, garnish the finished bread with a bit of shredded basil.

And finally, as an alternative method to slow the fermentation even more, you can set the dough in the refrigerator overnight after step 2 above. This is called retarding the dough because the cold will slow the yeast to a crawl, allowing even more flavor to develop. The next day, remove the dough and continue from step 3. (It may take a while to rise at that point because it will need to warm up first.)