Showing posts with label Guest Blogger. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Guest Blogger. Show all posts

July 3, 2009

Cooking School in China by Guest Blogger Linda Lou!

Lou is this summer's guest blogger, and I have been living vicariously through her news and photos for over a month. This post is beautiful- hope you enjoy!! Thank you, Lou.

It’s 8pm and I am only now beginning to think about food again. I am sitting in the courtyard of the Gigging Tree Hostel, a delightful inn located about 5 km outside of Yangshuo. If you like to look at beautiful countryside from an old but comfortably renovated mud-brick farmhouse, away from the “action” of the city, then this is the place for you. Though I’ve become accustomed to the hustle and bustle of China, I confess that the aggressive and persistent souvenir hawkers in the city streets and the never-ending shouts of “bamboo, bamboo” from hopeful rafters wanting to give you a ride along the river have put me off just a bit. Don’t get me wrong, Yangshuo is wonderful. I am simply glad that we have the Giggling Tree to retreat to rather than one of the many hotels downtown.

This morning we took a cooking course at the Yangshuo Cooking School. Originally begun by an Australian woman in an old farmhouse in Chaolong Village, the school now has two branches – the original in the village and a new facility located directly on the Li river. Both morning and afternoon classes are offered in each location six days per week. We took the morning class in the Li river location, and we were not disappointed.

Class began with a trip to the local market where we looked at a nearly unending variety of vegetables, spices, and varieties of tofus. In an adjacent portion of the large space was the meat section. The meats came in many different forms including roasted, butchered, in the process of being butchered and still alive. Duck eggs, chicken eggs, quail eggs, pickled eggs, so-called 1,000 year eggs – all were there. We were warned that some of the vendors don’t appreciate having their picture taken by invasive tourists (the tofu ladies, apparently, are particularly sensitive on the matter) and that pickpockets were a possibility, so I kept my camera in the backpack in order to devote my full concentration to the tour guide and his knowledgeable discussion of the many ingredients on display.

Having toured the market we departed for the cooking school. The location is simply gorgeous. We sat down for a cup of green tea in the open courtyard sitting above the Li river. As tourist boats passed by we chatted with the other cooking students, one couple from England, one couple from Australia, one couple from San Diego and us. They were an interesting and charming group – foodies are such wonderful people! The discussion of food, travel and cooking classes in exotic locations was fascinating to listen to.




After tea we went into the classroom, where the large windows also opened onto the Li river and individual cooking stations were prepared for each of us. Our instructor, Leo, demonstrated the chopping and cooking techniques we would need for each dish. We tasted his, and then made our own under his guidance and the watchful eyes of assistants who moved with ninja-like stealth and speed to turn down one of our gas stoves before the garlic burned or to point to which ever ingredient was needed next.

The first dish we prepared was steamed chicken with mushrooms. We finely sliced chicken and seasoned it with salt, pepper, and rice wine. This was placed on a plate, to which was added sliced ginseng root, reconstituted dried Chinese mushrooms, a couple of dates and an ingredient that I have never seen called wolfberries. These are smallish pink seeds with a texture similar to raisins and a lemony taste. Finally a touch of sesame oil was drizzled on top. Each plate was placed in its own, numbered bamboo steamer (numbered so we’d each get our own dish when it came time to eat). The steamers were stacked one atop of the other over a wok with boiling water forming a small, food filled bamboo tower.





Our second dish was egg-wrapped dumplings. According to Leo, you won’t likely find this dish in a restaurant in town, but if you go to a local home in the country or a village eatery you will see them consumed in large numbers. The filling is primarily ground pork with simple salt and pepper seasoning and an unexpected ingredient – fresh mint leaves. Hot peppers are optional, and Leo had us add a small amount of oyster sauce to the dish which is not included in the printed recipe booklet we got when the class was finished. The final ingredient was a beaten egg. We used duck egg, but I’m sure that any old egg would do. When the wok was hot, oil was added to make a small pool in the bottom. A small portion of egg, perhaps a tablespoon or so, was added to the center of the hot oil. The egg immediately began to set, and a dollop of the pork mixture (around a teaspoon) was added to one side of the egg disk, flattened out a bit, and then folded over like a turnover. Leo made the process look easy, though it took a bit of practice. Once formed, the dumpling was pushed up the side of the wok, out of the oil and away from the direct heat, and the entire process repeated until the egg mixture and filling was all used (6-9 dumplings depending upon how big you make them). Though formed, the pork filling was not fully cooked, so we flipped the dumplings and moved them back to the center of the wok before adding water and covering for a few minutes. When the water evaporated it was time to eat. We took a short break to eat our dumplings before moving on to the remaining dishes.





We completed the chopping for our next two dishes, Eggplant Yangshuo Style and Stir-fried Pork with Vegetables and Oyster Sauce together before cooking. The eggplant was sliced into planks about one quarter inch thick and two inches long. These were stir-fried with garlic, ginger and sweet red pepper. When softened, a touch of salt and a teaspoon of a condiment made of bean paste and chili was added. About one table spoon of water went in next along with a bit of oyster sauce. When the water was evaporated, sliced green onion was tossed in and the dish was complete.



Thin sliced pork loin was then added to a hot wok with garlic for the next dish. When the pork changed color, carrot, sweet red pepper and the main surprise which Leo called garlic stalks were added. I’m not sure if these are actually garlic or not, because they didn’t really taste like garlic and were added more for their crunch than for their flavor. They were green, very crunchy and a bit less than ¼ inch in diameter. Leo said that anything crunchy like cucumbers could be used in their place, which would be good but would definitely change the flavor of the dish. At any rate, the garlic stalks were cut into ¾ inch pieces. We added the vegetables to the pork and cooked for 1-3 minutes based upon our preference for crunchy or soft vegetables in our stir fry. I like crunchy, so I pulled the dish off relatively quickly. Both the eggplant and the pork dishes were placed under our wok cover to keep warm.



Our final dish was one of my all-time China food favorites, simple stir-fried greens. As simple as it is delicious, this dish only requires a bit of oil added to a hot wok along with some seasonal greens (bok choi or even spinach would be fine at home) and garlic. A bit of water is added after a minute or so of stir frying. Once the vegetable is tender to your taste, yank it from the flame.



It was lunch time! And if I do say so myself, the food I ate was marvelous! The flavors were more subtle than what I have grown accustomed to during my month in Chongqing, but were every bit as interesting and delicious especially because of the ingredients that were new to me.



The beautiful surroundings, pleasant teaching staff, charming companions and toy poodle mascot were all bonuses – but the food was the real star. My only regret was not signing up for the second class, with its own unique menu, that is offered on alternating days.

May 22, 2009

Louhead's First Guest Blog From China!

While some of us are enjoying our stay-cations, one of my friends is off on a great adventure. It's her second trip to China and her first guest blog post. Linda-Lou is a professor at a university in Minnesota, a singer/songwriter, a foodie, a dog lover, a seasoned traveler and, best of all, a kind soul.



Climbing Jinyun Mountain: Sichuan Cuisine with No Middle-Man

For the true foodie, no trip to China would be complete without a healthy sampling of Sichuan cooking. Known as one of the Four Great Traditions of Chinese cuisine, Sichuan (Chinese: 四川) food can perhaps be best described by four words: spicy, hot, fresh and fragrant. Complex in flavor and rich in tradition; the food is hearty and unpretentious. No dainty portions or fussy plating. The food is served family style with diners reaching in and taking what they wish with their own chopsticks. As we began our meal our wonderful guide told us of the Chinese proverb that states - “There are no short arms at the table”. The message was simple. Dig in.

And dig in we did, because we were all hungry. Who are we? We are a traveling band of students, plus one professor, from Minnesota. We have the pleasure of spending the next several weeks at Southwest University in Beibei, Chongqing China. Today we climbed to the top of Jinyun Mountain, the largest of the peaks surrounding Beibei. About half way up we dined at the Great Well (大水井). No, that is not a typographical error. The well is great here, not the wall. To be honest, I didn’t actually see the well but the water from the faucets in the outdoor sinks ran cold and clean and was very refreshing to wash hands, face and neck after our long climb on a warm, bordering on hot, day.





The Great Well Restaurant is more like a family home than a restaurant. It is nestled high in the hills, surrounded by bamboo forests, accessible only by steep paths. It is inhabited and run by a family that includes four generations; three were involved in cooking our meal (the fourth was off at school when we arrived). Whatever you call it, the Great Well epitomizes Sichuan cuisine. The food was spicy, hot, fresh and fragrant.



Let’s begin with fresh. In America most of us live our lives rather disconnected from our food. Even if we are avid cooks we likely obtain most of our food partially prepared and neatly packaged from the supermarket. Not so at the Great Well. We arrived, sat down and had a cup of tea while our guide ordered. With the food order in, a live black chicken was selected for us, brought into the kitchen and killed. It doesn’t get any fresher than that. Black chickens are more expensive than white chickens because their strong color is thought to be good for the health. The feathers and skin were definitely black in color and the meat considerably darker than the grocery store birds found in the US. Our chicken was plucked, cleaned, and singed over an open flame in a matter of minutes and the family of chefs swung into action chopping, steaming, and stir-frying in the kitchen, only occasionally slowing down to step around yours truly, who was constantly getting in the way with the camera. The family seemed amused, but not at all annoyed at my curiosity and intrusion into their kitchen.









I watched as the family sliced small, tender fresh bamboo stalks retrieved from a plastic paint bucket where they had been rinsed, spicy pickled ginger and chilies, and fresh lotus root. Corn and pumpkin, were sitting ready for cooking in bowls on the counter. Cucumbers were brought around from the back of the house, which leans into a steep hill, by the eldest generation of the family. It wasn’t until our meal was over that we walked out this way and I saw that the family garden was there. I didn’t recognize all of the crops, but I saw corn and beans and a variety of other plants. I suspect that most, if not all, of the vegetables we were served came from the garden or the surrounding forest. I didn’t see a pig, but one of the students saw a family member leaving a stall located away from the house with some pig’s feet. These did not go into our meal, but I watched the family cut thin slices of smoked pork, and julienne strips of fresh pork loin for stir frying.





With the well-oiled efficiency of those who have worked together forever, the family steamed and stir-fried our food in large woks. When the chilies went into the wok, smoke filled the room, and even the family coughed and sputtered. At this point, with the meal about to begin, I left the kitchen and rejoined the group.



Our meal began in the typical Sichuan manner, with a cold course of tofu that one adds to small dishes of spice mixes or sauces. At the Great Well we ate our tofu with red chili oil laced with small piles of red chilies, ginger and garlic. The cucumbers were added to the table. These were served fresh, salty, and heavily seasoned with garlic. Delicious.



Subsequent courses were rapidly added to the table. Our hot vegetable courses included pumpkin, which was absolutely perfect in its simplicity and as a counterpoint to the spicier dishes, and my personal favorite, green beans prepared Sichuan style, which is quick fried. I don’t know if it is the preparation or the actual beans themselves, they are a bit bigger in size and appear to be harvested at a more mature state than typical European or American green beans. Whatever the reason, the green beans here taste like nowhere else. Often they come highly seasoned with chilies and garlic, but at the Great Well they were served relatively simply, like the pumpkin, highlighting the fresh perfection of the vegetable itself. Bowls of seasoned potatoes that were boiled in a pressure cooker and then stir fried were also added to the table. These were a big hit with the Minnesota natives.





But don’t be alarmed. The Great Well did not miss the mark with the spicy criterion. This came in the meat dishes which were served next. Our chicken was featured in a dish that highlighted the areas signature ingredient, the sichuan peppercorn. These actually bear no relation to black or red peppers but are the outer pods of tiny fruits. In the US I obtain these dried and typically grind them up before adding them to a meal. Those used at the Great Well seemed fresh and were tossed in whole. In and of themselves, sichuan peppercorns aren’t really hot or pungent. They actually have a taste that, to my buds, is lemony and woodsy at the same time. If you bite directly into one, which I enjoy doing though it may be strong for some and is definitely woody in texture, it produces a tingly, numbing sensation in the mouth. It is usually paired with “hot” spices like chilies for one of the trademark tastes of Sichuan cooking. In our chicken dish, the hot spices included mass quantities of pickled ginger and chilies that I’d seen chopped up in the kitchen just minutes ago.





The pork dishes followed. The fresh pork julienne found its way into a spicy and delicious marriage with garlic and fresh chilies. The smoked pork was combined with lotus root and green peppers. At this point, again typical of a meal in China, the rice was served from a gigantic bamboo steaming basket. I’m not sure why, but rice is always served towards the end of a meal in China, perhaps so that guests don’t fill up on it before they are able to sample the many other dishes provided. We added rice to our bowls and placed bits of meat and vegetable on top to be eaten along with the staple. Finally, bowls of some version of steamed bitter greens were brought to the table. These came plain and were absolutely delicious and wonderfully cleansing to the palate. I’ve heard that bitter tastes are good for the digestion and this was good for us, as our climb up the mountain was only two-thirds of the way complete (and this was before we got lost, but that adventure is another story).

We left an hour and a half after we arrived – quite a quick pace by Chinese standards where lunchtime lasts from noon to 2:30 every day, even in university offices and laboratories. This break in the day, unacceptably long by American standards, allows one to linger over a fantastic lunch and even take a short nap when it is through. Perhaps we should add another word to our description of Sichuan cuisine to capture this ability to take time to savor and rest. How about spicy, hot, fresh, fragrant and civilized?

July 9, 2008

Arctic Char with Horseradish Cream, Sweet & Sour Beets, and Dandelion Greens

This post comes to you from guest blogger (and childhood friend) Suzanne. How she found time to make this dinner with 15-month old twin boys and a 4 1/2 year old son is completely beyond me, but she did. The results sound delicious, and here they are. Thank you, Suzanne!!

My husband was recently appointed the Chair of his department at Oakland University. As such, he felt it would be nice for us to entertain a woman that was just hired to teach in the department and her husband when they were in town looking for housing. The woman is Japanese and her husband is Norwegian. So of course I chose to make fish and rice. I'm pretty fearless in the kitchen but one of my problem dishes happens to be rice. Even with a rice cooker, I always manage to screw it up. I was in the process of preparing the meal when I realized I was really setting myself up to be embarrassed by serving rice to a Japanese woman (not to mention fish to a Norwegian man). Fortunately the dinner turned out really well. The salad and main course were both beautiful and, all in all, the meal was quite healthy.

We started with some store bought appetizers - hummus, cheese, etc. I also made some delicious and potent martinis. I got the recipe from a restaurant called Kona Grille.

Berry Martinis (recipe makes one martini)
Mix the following and serve chilled
2 oz Three Olives brand Triple Berry Vodka
1/2 oz Triple Sec
1/4 oz Rose's Lime Juice
1/2 oz Cranberry Juice

The salad, main course, and dessert recipes all came from Bon Appetit



Arugula, Fennel and Orange Salad
1/4 cup minced shallots
3 TBS extra virgin olive oil
1 1/2 TBS fresh lemon juice
2 large oranges
7 cups arugula
1 large fennel bulb, trimmed, quartered lengthwise, cored, and thinly sliced (I used a mandoline)
1 small red onion, thinly sliced (again, I used a mandoline)

Whisk the first three ingredients together to make the dressing. Season to taste with S & P.
Cut the peel and white pith from the oranges. Working over a bowl, use a small knife to cut between and release the segments.

Combine the arugula, fennel and onion in a large bowl. Toss with dressing to coat. Add orange segments and toss to combine.

Note: I added some of the juice from the oranges to the vinaigrette and adjusted the amount of oil to balance out the acid. I also added a bit of dry mustard powder. This helps the vinaigrette to emulsify and give a nice tang to it.

Note: I let the onion slices soak in ice water for several hours then patted them dry before tossing with the salad. This helps to mellow the onion flavor.

Arctic Char with Horseradish Cream, Sweet & Sour Beets, and Dandelion Greens (4 servings)

Horseradish Cream:
3 cups 1/2-inch cubes fresh peeled horseradish root (about 1 lb unpeeled root)
1 1/2 cups heavy whipping cream

To make cream, coarsely grate horseradish; transfer to medium saucepan and add cream; cover and simmer for 10 minutes. Remove from heat. Let stand, covered, 30 minutes. Strain cream into small sauce pan through sieve extracting as much cream as possible by pressing firmly on solids. Cream can be made 2 days ahead - cover and chill.

Beets:
8 baby red beets, tops trimmed
8 baby golden beets, tops trimmed
(baby beets were not available so I used large beets and cut them to size after cooking)
1 cup apple cider vinegar
4 TBS sugar

Cook red and golden beets in separate medium pots of salted water until tender, about 18 minutes. Drain and cool. Beets can be prepared to this point 2 days ahead - cover and chill.

Peel red beets, cut in half and place in skillet. Peel golden beets, cut in half and place in a separate skillet. Mix 1/2 cup vinegar and 2 TBS sugar into each skillet. Cook beets in each skillet over medium-high heat until liquid thickens to syrup and begins to coat beets, about 4 minutes, stirring often. Season to taste with S & P. Remove from heat.

Fish and Greens:
4 6-oz arctic char or salmon filets with skin
3 TBS vegetable oil, divided

1 large bunch dandelion greens, stems trimmed (you can use any other bitter greens such as arugula, watercress, endive or mustard greens; I used arugula to complement the salad).

Preheat oven to 350. Sprinkle fish with S & P. Heat 1 TBS oil in large, heavy ovenproof sauce pan over high heat. Add fish, skin side down and sear until skin is crisp and brown, about 3 minutes (do not turn fish over). Place skillet with fish in oven and roast until just opaque in center, about 3 minutes.

Meanwhile, warm the horseradish cream over medium heat. Heat remaining two TBS oil in skillet over medium-high heat. Add greens until just wilted, about 1 minute and season with S&P.

Divide greens among 4 plates. Top with fish, skin side up. Surround fish with beets. Spoon warm cream over top and drizzle with any remaining beet juices.

Note: For a more substantial portion, I would double the amount of greens as they wilt to just about nothing once cooked. And we could all use more dark leafy greens in our diets. I wouldn't hesitate to double the beet recipe, either, as I love beets. And we could all use more beets in our diets. I served simple steamed sticky rice with the main course.



Raspberry Topped Chocolate Tartlets with Pecan Crust

2 cups pecans, toasted
6 TBS packed brown sugar
1/4 tsp ground cinnamon
1/4 cup unsalted butter, melted
3/4 cup whipping cream
6 oz bittersweet or semisweet chocolate, chopped
2 1/2-pint containers raspberries
1/4 cup seedless raspberry jam

Preheat oven to 325. Combine pecans, sugar, and cinnamon in food processor. Blend until nuts are finely ground. Add butter and process until moist clumps form. Press dough over bottom and up sides of four 4-inch diameter tartlet pans with removable bottoms (I couldn't find them with removable bottoms so I used non-stick tartlet pans and they worked just fine; I just had to carefully extract the crust from each after the ganache filling had a chance to cool).

Bake crusts until golden brown and firm to the touch, about 30 minutes. Transfer to rack and cool completely in pans.

Bring cream to simmer in heavy saucepan. Remove from heat and add chocolate. (Use a very good quality chocolate - like Valhrona - since this is a simple dish and chocolate is the star). Stir until the chocolate is melted and smooth. Pour mixture into crusts, dividing equally. Chill until chocolate is set, about one hour. Cover and chill. Can be made 1 day ahead. If you use tartlets with bottoms that are not removeable, gently tap the tartlets out of the pans before the next step.

Arrange berries over top of tartlets. Stir jam in heavy saucepan over low heat until melted. Brush over raspberries. Refrigerate. Can be made up to 3 hours ahead.

Note: I used raspberries and blueberries. Strawberries would be great, too.

Note: Next time I think I'd make a different crust, perhaps combining nuts with graham crackers or shortbread. I found this crust to be a bit on the greasy side from the butter and oils released by the nuts.

I will certainly make all of these dishes again. You can do a lot of the work in advance which makes this a nice meal for entertaining.

April 29, 2008

Gumbo, Day Two- GUMBO by Guest Blogger Mimi Nunu!


As I mentioned in my last post, I decided to try my hand at a homemade pot of gumbo largely due to not-so-subtle hints my brother had dropped. The first thing that needed to be done was to make a roux. This is described in previous my previous post.

Next I chopped up about what is often referred to as “the Trinity” of New Orleans cooking – celery, green pepper and onion. I used about 2 cups of onion, 1 cup of celery and half cup of green pepper. Most recipes called for more green pepper, but I am not so found of green pepper so I reduced the amount.



I fried the trinity in the roux for a few minutes and then I added 8 cups of chicken broth to the trinity/roux combination.



I decided to add 3 proteins to my gumbo– shrimp, andouille sausage and Cornish game hen. Many recipes said to use either seafood only or sausage and chicken. You can really put whatever you want in it, it’s your gumbo.

I read that game hen would flavor the gumbo better and I had one in the freezer, so I roasted it, shredded it, and added the hen and the drippings to the pot.



I also fried a 12 ounce pack of Aidell’s andouille sausage in olive oil for about 5 minutes, just enough time to carmelize it a bit, and added that to the pot as well.



I then steamed a pound of medium size shrimp in a pot with a handful of chopped celery and Zatarain’s concentrated shrimp and crab boil. You only need to add a drop of this stuff! To say it is spicy is an understatement. Once the shrimp was cool, I removed the shells, chopped into bite-size pieces, and added the shrimp stock and the shrimp to the pot.



Now that all of the proteins were added to the roux/trinity/chicken broth combination, it was time to add some spices. I did not measure any of these I just eyeballed each – fresh parsley, paprike, thyme, oregano, basil, worchestshire, and garlic.



I let the pot of gumbo come to a boil, then lowered heat to a simmer and cooked for about 2 hours.

Finally it was time to eat!



I prepared some ordinary white rice, ladled the gumbo over top of the rice, and added a few splashes of hot sauce to my own individual bowl (my brother, mom and dad also added hot sauce) and we all dove in.

The whole thing was a fairly long process but well worth it. Everyone said it was great and I got my brother’s stamp of approval. He said I can make him gumbo anytime but I think this might be a once a year meal!

Gumbo, Day One- ROUX by Guest Blogger Mimi Nunu!



I am fortunate to say that I have known one person in my life who is as passionate about food as I am! We call her Mimi Nunu, and this is her guest blog:

My brother lived in New Orleans for about 5 years. He moved back home to Philadelphia after Hurricane Katrina. He misses lots of things about NOLA, but one thing he often mentions is that he has not had a good bowl of gumbo since 2005. I’ve thought about making a gumbo for a while now, and I just finally got up the courage to give it a shot. All of the recipes that I read said the same thing - to make a good gumbo, you have to “start with a roux.” Let me start by saying, I have never made a roux before. I didn’t even know what a roux was. A roux is just equal parts of a fat – vegetable oil, butter, or lard - mixed with flour. So I spent a lot of time on the internet, reading about how long it would take and the process. I read a lot of conflicting information – cook it on low for over an hour on stove, bake it for 30 minutes, it should be the color of peanut butter, it should be brick-colored, or the shade of a penny. I combined all of my internet reading with some advice from my brother and a friend who lives deep in Cajun country in Opelousas, Louisiana, and decided I would go with the theory that for gumbo “the darker the roux the better.” The problem is, to get the roux to the required brick shade, you must CONSTANTLY stir it, and I mean CONSTANTLY. If you don’t continue to stir, you run the risk of burning it and you must throw it away and start over. I read that if you burn it, you will see black flecks, it will smell scorched, and it will completely ruin the taste. Let’s just say I am not the most patient person in the world. I had to go against every grain of my normal hot-head personality and step into the mindset of someone else to prepare this roux!

I used vegetable oil as my fat of choice. I mixed 1 cup of all purpose flour with one cup of vegetable oil in a pan.



I combined the flour and the oil in a pan and stirred until all of the flour had dissolved.



I turned the burner on low and just started stirring. After about 30 minutes, it still looked pretty lightly colored, and my patience was starting to go. I had to talk myself out of giving up. All in all I stirred the pan of roux for 70 minutes. But I was very proud of myself for achieving a great brick color without burning it. Patience is key!



After the color looked just about right, I immediately removed from the pan and heat and put in Tupperware to cool. This was probably pretty stupid, since it a burning hot concoction of oil that is often referred to as Cajun napalm, but I didn’t want to dirty any more dishes. It is advised to pour the roux onto a baking sheet or some other heat safe container to cool. My gumbo would be a two day cooking affair. My plan was to prepare the roux on day one, and put together the gumbo on day 2. After 70 minutes of stirring and a very tired arm, I decided to stick with the two day plan. I kept thinking to myself, all of the effort to make this roux better be worth it…