Weekly Dish

When I worked at the Brick-Oven in Jackson, Pad Thai was one of my favorite pasta dishes. The chefs made the peanut sauce from scratch, and if they would have let me, I could have eaten it by the bowlful all by itself.

Even after I stopped working, David and I still ate there pretty regularly. Often, we went just because their Pad Thai was the best in town. When I ordered it, I never called it Pad Thai, and it took me a long time to realize that the reason our server chuckled when I ordered was that I still referred to the dish in kitchen-speak: I asked for “shrimp pad” instead of “Pad Thai with Shrimp,” as it was listed on the menu. I’m sure it sounded funny coming from the wrong side of the table.

Once, when I first started waiting tables, a restaurant reviewer and his wife sat at one of my tables, (I didn’t know who he was until later) and he ordered Pad Thai with Chicken. A little while after I brought it to him, I went back to the table to see how they were doing and found him flicking the green onions from the top of his pasta onto the table in front of him. When I asked if something were the matter, he went into this tirade about how much he hated green onions and insisted that he had ordered the Pad Thai without them. I didn’t argue–the customer is always right, after all–and asked if I could bring him something else. He declared that he’d solved the problem himself; I needn’t worry about fixing it. When I returned with the manager on duty, I found empty chairs around their green-onion-decorated table and cash in the middle–not even enough to cover the cost of the meal.

I was horrified that any grown man (he was probably my grandfather’s age) would act so ridiculously about something so trivial, but when I found out he wrote restaurant reviews, I was certain I would be fired. My manager was nice, but he did ask me numerous times if I was sure that he hadn’t asked for the Pad Thai without green onions. I have never been so sure of anything, but by then it seemed a bit irrelevant; the damage was done.

The following week, an anonymous food column appeared in the local paper giving the restaurant a glowing review; the writer was especially complimentary of the service. I will never be certain that he wrote it, but whenever I make this dish, I always wonder, and I cover my Pad Thai in green onions, just for good measure. And, I call it whatever I like.

Here’s my recipe:

Pad Thai, or Chicken Pad, or One Chick’s Pad

2 cups cooked chicken, diced (I had more leftovers from the Tandoori Chicken, but any grilled or sauteed breasts will do)

1 1/2 cups peanut sauce (see the recipe below in the Tuesday’s post)

A handful of snow peas

1/2 cup roasted peanuts, chopped finely

1/2 cup bean sprouts

1 carrot, shredded

1/2 cup green onions, chopped

3/4 pound flat rice noodles or linguine

Cook the pasta until tender; drain and set aside. In a large skillet, heat the peanut sauce over medium-low. Add the chicken and snow peas and stir to coat. Cook just until the snow peas are beginning to soften, about 5 minutes. Pile a nest of noodles on each plate, and pour the sauced chicken over. Top with bean sprouts, carrot, green onions (as many as you like!), and crushed peanuts.

My little sister introduced me to Thai cashew wraps at a little wrap shop called Roly-Poly last summer. They taste fresh and spicy, with the crunch of fresh cilantro and the kick of hot peanut sauce. But something about that flavor combination and a tortilla just doesn’t work for me. This sandwich is my attempt to imitate the flavor of the Roly-Poly sandwich, while improving the texture. Naan is a traditional bread served in India; like the chicken, it too is usually cooked in a clay oven.

For this bread, I used the recipe from The Joy of Cooking, but next time I make it, I will use yogurt as a thickening agent, as most traditional preparations do. I also will roll it flatter and rub with more butter and spices–mine is a little too flat and not crispy enough.

It worked well for these wraps, though, and if you’re in a hurry, any good store-bought flatbread would do. Here’s what I put on them:

Asian-style Wraps

Shredded chicken (I used the leftover Tandoori chicken from last night)

1 cup cabbage, shredded

1/2 cup fresh ginger, minced

1 cucumber, small-dice

1/4 cup chopped cilantro

1 t. sesame oil

1 T. rice wine vinegar

Peanut Sauce (recipe below)

Flatbread

In a medium-sized bowl, mix the cabbage, ginger, cilantro, oil, and vinegar. Lay out one flatbread per person. Top with a handful of the cabbage mixture, then chicken. Drizzle with peanut sauce and roll up. Serve with extra cabbage-ginger salad.

Spicy Thai Peanut Sauce

3/4 cup peanut butter

1 bird chili

1 clove garlic

1/2 cup coconut milk

1 T. soy sauce

1 T. fish sauce

1 T. brown sugar

1 lime, juice and zest

1 t. fresh ginger

1 t. orange zest

1 t. orange juice

In a food processor, process the garlic, chili, and ginger until finely minced. Add the remaining ingredients and process until smooth. This recipe makes a lot, but the sauce will keep in the refrigerator for a few weeks. I’ll use some of it on my Pad Thai later in the week.

Sorry about my brief hiatus–school is getting the better of my time these days, and David has had to take over the kitchen. This menu is from a few weeks ago when I was not quite so busy, so I thought writing about it might help to wake me from my culinary slumber. Or at least make me hungry enough to get in the kitchen and blow off some academic steam!

I make no pretenses about the fact that my Asian cooking is less than authentic. My office-mate, Sukanya, is from India, and she says the only way to really learn how to cook Indian food is to find an Indian friend to teach you. She has promised to come over and cook with me one of these days, but until she does, I am left experimenting on my own.

I first learned to love Asian cuisine in London, where I had a hard time finding affordable, edible food. Then I discovered Indian, Thai, and Chinese restaurants near our hotel, and eating became a whole other adventure. Since then, I have tried to recreate what I eat when I get Indian or Thai take-out, and while my recipes may be pretenders to the real deal, they assuage my cravings for spicy, aromatic food in a satisfying way. Asian ingredients are sometimes hard to find and can be expensive, so if I’m buying them, I usually plan several meals around them.

This recipe is a hodgepodge of several different ones. Traditional tandoori chicken is cooked in a clay tandoori oven over an open flame, as I understand the process, but in my very Americanized kitchen, I broil it. Grilling would be even better, as it would draw out the smoky flavors of the marinade. I serve this chicken with a big mound of Basmati rice.

Here’s my very inauthentic method:

Tandoori-ish Chicken

For the marinade:

1 cup plain yogurt

Juice of 1 lemon

1/2 t. ground coriander

1/2 t. black pepper

1/2 t. cumin

1 t. garam masala (Chinese 5-spice powder will do in a pinch, if you can’t find the garam masala)

1/2 t. cayenne pepper

1/2 t. paprika

1 t. chili powder

1 T. fresh ginger, minced (about a 1-inch piece)

4 cloves garlic, minced

1 whole chicken, cut into pieces

Mix the marinade together thoroughly. Coat the chicken pieces thickly with the marinade. Place in a glass baking dish, cover, and refrigerate for several hours, preferably overnight. Preheat the oven to 450 degrees. Wrap the chicken in foil and cook for about 20-30 minutes. Remove and preheat the broiler. Unwrap the chicken and place under the broiler for a few minutes per side, until the skin is beginning to crisp and the chicken is done in the center. How long this takes all depends on your broiler–just check it frequently.

AUTUMN REVERIE

Monday, October 10, 2005

Paper Chef #11: Pecan-Crusted Cinnamon Duck with Gingered Pear-Cherry Compote and Maple Sweet Potato Grits

For this month’s Paper Chef competition (the brainchild of Owen at Tomatilla!), an internet version of television’s Iron Chef, Stephen at Stephen Cooks asked entrants to compose a dish based around 4 ingredients, centered thematically around fall, my favorite season of the year.

Fall in the South tends to come suddenly, dropping gusts of cool air at the last moment, just when we’ve given up hope that the daytime temperature will ever drop below 85. Summer lasts so long here that by the time fall finally arrives, even if it dips in and out until Christmas, I am so grateful that I spend every possible moment outdoors. One of the delights of the season in this corner of the world is that the green of summer remains long after the crisp nip in the air drains the hot, heavy humidity of summer. The vegetation in these parts still glistens with life under the more temperate autumn sun, and the combination of the charged zip in the air with the still-warm kiss of the sun puts a sparkling spring in my step and in my hopes for the days to come every single year.

Stephen’s call for autumn-inspired cuisine, had it come just a week earlier, would have found me dripping with sweat and wondering if southern Louisiana would ever cool off. Luckily, though, the seasonal drop in temperature came just in the nick of time. It was a lovely 70 degrees when David and I headed out Saturday morning for the Red Stick Market, armed with the ingredient list and our imaginations.

The required ingredients for this month’s competition are: DUCK, PEARS, GINGER, AND NUT BUTTER. I grew up in a family of hunters, so wild game appeared frequently in our meals this time of year. My dad usually cooks duck on the grill with cinnamon, and its simplicity is hard to beat. For my creation, I borrowed the cinnamon from him (which I think he might have borrowed from my Aunt Emily), and picked up a pound of pecans from Buddy Miller of Plantation Pecans, both to use for the requisite nut butter component and to add a southern flair to my preparation. Pecan-Crusted Cinnamon Duck Breasts were soon ready to be hatched.

I marinated the breasts overnight in red wine and balsamic vinegar spiced with ginger, cloves, and cinnamon sticks. I made a pecan butter from slow-roasted pecans, cinnamon,  butter, and a little maple syrup, which I lathered onto the duck. Next, I rolled the breasts in chopped pecans and dredged them in flour. To achieve a crispy brown layer on the outside while preserving the tenderness of the meaty inside, I seared the breasts in a skillet for a couple of minutes per side and then finished by roasting them in the oven.

For the sauce and presentation, I wanted to find a way to incorporate the rich autumn hues of red and orange, while using the good fat from the duck to flavor the dish. I decided on a ruby-colored sauce, which I made by simmering the pears in some of the red wine marinade, along with dried red cherries, shallots, and lots of spice. I used that mixture to deglaze the pan after the ducks were finished cooking, which resulted in a sort of rich, saucy compote. To remain true to my southern roots, I served the duck on a bed of grits, colored orange and flavored by whipping them with roasted sweet potatoes and long strands of orange zest. I finished the dish with crispy red onion strings, which served as a nice contrast, both in flavor and texture, to the sweet, soft potato grits.

So how was it? Well, it was fabulous. The combination of flavors and textures–the spiciness of the ginger, cloves, cinnamon, and allspice; the rich buttery subtlety of the roasted pecan butter; the crispy texture of the onions and the duck’s crust; the sweetness of the pears and cherries; the savory duck itself with just a hint of wildness–left us reveling in the complexity of every bite. I have to confess–the Sweet Potato Grits were a surprise. I was fully prepared to junk the idea if it turned out to be too strange, but the mixture of the sweet potatoes and grits makes for a light and fluffy compliment to the fuller, stronger flavors in the duck and sauce. The crispy onions were just the right topping.

This is really not my method of cooking–as you who read often know, I usually try to make our meals in an hour or less; I rarely have time to spend coddling and cajoling ingredients to come together over the span of two days. I have to say, though, I loved every minute of it. It was relaxing, almost, to take my time with the food I was making (who knew?!).

David and I set a card table in our backyard, just before the sun went down, and enjoyed the last of our first autumn Sunday by savoring every bite of the delicious flavors of the season.

Here is the step-by-step recipe:

Pecan-Crusted Cinnamon Duck

4 duck breasts, skin on

Marinade:

2/3 cup red wine (I used Pinot Noir)

2 T. balsamic vinegar

2 T. maple syrup

1 cinnamon stick

8 whole cloves

1 shallot, thinly sliced

1 t. fresh rosemary, chopped

1 t. minced ginger

1 t. Kosher salt

Sprinkle of cracked black pepper

Pecan Butter:

1 stick butter, softened

1/2 cups pecans, roasted

1/2 t. ground cinnamon

2 T. maple syrup

Coating:

1 cup raw pecans, chopped finely

Flour as needed

Cinnamon

Ground black pepper

Kosher salt

Olive oil

1/4 cup red onion, sliced paper-thin

Combine all the marinade ingredients in a shallow baking dish. Trim any hanging fat from the duck breasts and score the skin by cutting a diamond pattern into it (be careful not to cut all the way to the meat). Add the breasts to the marinade, turning to coat. Cover and refrigerate overnight.

Grind the roasted pecans in a food processor until very, very fine. Add cinnamon, syrup, and butter, and process until smooth. Set aside 2 tablespoons of the butter for the Sweet Potato Grits. Season the flour with cinnamon, salt, and pepper. Make an assembly line with the plate of flour, a shallow dish with the pecan butter, and a plate of the pecans. Dip each breast in flour, then butter, then in the chopped pecans, and then in flour again. Place the coated breasts on a plate and cover tightly. Refrigerate while you prepare the sweet potatoes, grits, and sauce.

 Heat a large, oven-proof skillet over medium-high heat with a teaspoon or so of olive oil. When the skillet is hot but not smoking, fry the onions in the oil until brown and crispy. Remove; set aside. Add the breasts, and sear for about 2 minutes per side. The coating should be brown. Place the skillet in the oven, and roast the breasts for about 10-12 minutes at 400 degrees, until it slices easily but it still pink in the middle. Turn the breasts halfway through roasting.

Remove the breasts from the pan and cover with foil to keep warm.

Gingered Pear-Cherry Red Wine Compote

Leftover marinade

1 pear, diced

1/2 cup dried cherries

1/4 cup brown sugar

1 cup red wine

1/4 t. ground allspice

Zest of 1 orange

Pan juices from roasting the duck

2 shallots, minced

1 tsp. ginger, minced

Strain the solids from the marinade and discard. Bring the liquid to a boil over medium heat. Reduce the heat and add pear, cherries, sugar, wine, allspice, and orange zest. Simmer over medium heat for about 30 minutes, until the fruit is very soft. Reduce heat to low and keep warm and covered until duck is ready. Reheat the pan juices over medium; add the shallots and ginger and cook until both are tender, a few minutes. Add the fruit-wine mixture, scraping any brown bits from the bottom, and cooking and stirring until the mixture thickens. Taste for seasoning.

To serve: Place a scoop of the sweet potato-grits on each plate. Slice the breast diagonally, and arrange against the mound of grits. Pile a nest of fried onion strings on top of the grits. Top with sauce, and sprinkle with ground nuts and chopped rosemary to garnish.

Aaahh, pesto. That lovely oily amalgamation that I nearly kill my basil plants over every single summer. When I was a waitress at the Brick-Oven, I often worked the long lunch shift, which usually left me and the kitchen staff alone in the restaurant for at least a couple of hours. Steve, a vegetarian chef extraordinaire, taught me how to make pesto one afternoon in late summer, and I’ve made it every summer since. I usually stick to his basic version, with basil leaves, pine nuts, fresh Parmesan, garlic, and olive oil, but I’ve also made it with walnuts (my friend Angela is allergic to pine nuts, so when I lived in Jackson, I usually substituted the walnuts on her account). One of my favorite food blogs, Cooking with Amy, recently posted a whole host of variations on the traditional pesto; if you’re interested in mixing it up, you should check out her suggestions. I make mine as a paste with only a little oil at first, and then add oil as needed as I use the pesto in different ways. One of the tricks I’ve found that really enriches the flavor is toasting the pine nuts first; they become more buttery and flavorful when they brown. This week, pesto’s in chicken salad and dolloped on pasta, next week on pizza! It’s so versatile, and a little goes a long way. For this recipe, I made the pesto and then mixed about 2 tablespoons of it with 1/2 cup of the homemade mayonnaise left from the sandwiches on Monday. These proportions can be adjusted, depending on how much pesto flavor you like, and how “wet” you like your chicken salad. Add some small-diced chicken (also leftover from Monday) and toasted pine nuts. It’s wonderful on foccacia bread, if you have any left. I served the sandwiches with a simple green salad. Here’s how I made the pesto:

1 cup basil leaves, washed and thoroughly dried

1/4 cup toasted pine nuts

4 cloves of garlic

1/4 cup fresh grated Parmesan cheese

1/4 cup olive oil

1/2 t. Kosher salt

1/2 t. cracked black pepper

Toast the pine nuts in a 350 oven until brown and fragrant, about 15-20 minutes. In a food processor or blender, mince the garlic as finely as you can. Then add the basil leaves and pulse until they are also chopped finely. Add the nuts, cheese, olive oil, salt and pepper, and process until a paste forms. Will keep in the fridge in a tightly covered container for about 2 weeks.

The weekend of Katrina, our friends Jerrod and Jessie were supposed to come stay with us. With Katrina and Jessie’s baby on the way, we decided to postpone the trip. I planned to make this chicken dish for them while they were here; it’s one of my favorite things to make for a small group of guests. Chicken and potatoes sounds simple, I know, but one of the things I really like about this recipe is that the flavors are surprisingly strong. The rich, citrus flavor of the roasted lemons adds just the right bite, and the capers and artichokes mingle nicely with the white wine to add some depth. I usually make the potatoes with a lot of rosemary too, but, well, you all know what happened to my rosemary. If you have some, please chop it and add when you sauté the potatoes. The trick to making this dish is timing, but if you follow these steps, it isn’t hard:

10-12 very small new potatoes, scrubbed

4 lemons

4 chicken breasts

Olive oil

4 cloves garlic, minced

2 tablespoons capers

1 14-ounce can artichoke hearts, diced

1/4 cup white wine

2 tablespoons butter

1. Preheat the broiler.

2. Place the potatoes in a large pot and cover with water. Bring the water to a boil. Boil potatoes until fork-tender, about 20 minutes.

3. Halve the lemons, and place in a flame-resistant dish (or in a foil packet). Drizzle with olive oil and sprinkle with Kosher salt and cracked pepper. Broil the lemons until the edges begin to darken, about 8-10 minutes (but watch carefully). When they’re done, set them aside to cool.

4. While the lemons are broiling and the potatoes boiling, flatten each chicken breast to about 1/2-inch thickness. Dredge in flour; salt and pepper.

5. Heat about a tablespoon of olive oil and a tablespoon of butter in a large skillet on medium-high. When the oil is hot, lay the chicken in the pan and cook for about 4-6 minutes per side, until brown and crispy. Remove the chicken to a platter and cover with foil.

6. When the potatoes are done, drain, cool, and cut into quarters.

7. In the skillet, add 2 cloves of garlic, and stir briefly. Immediately add the potatoes, and sauté, stirring occasionally and scraping up the brown bits from the bottom of the skillet. Here is where you would add the rosemary if you had it. Sigh.

8. Cook the potatoes until all sides are brown; remove them to the platter with the chicken.

9. Add to the skillet one tablespoon of butter and the remaining garlic. Sauté the garlic for just a minute, making sure not to burn it. Add the artichoke hearts and capers, and stir-fry for another minute or two. Deglaze the pan with the wine, and cook while stirring. Add the juice from the roasted lemons and cook for another couple of minutes; the sauce should reduce a little.

10. Pour the sauce over the chicken and potatoes; serve with any extra sauce. Serves 4.

DELICIOUS!

CHIMI, CHIMI

Friday, September 9 (but not really)

I’m not sure what happened, but somehow my days got mixed up this week. Labor Day? The hurricane week? I don’t know; I’m sure it’s a combination of all manner of things. Baton Rouge has turned into a different city this week (my local grocery store only had one bag of angel hair pasta in the whole store when I went Wednesday afternoon), new students from New Orleans have transferred to LSU for a semester, and traffic is, well, a nightmare. I try not to stray too far from home, fearing I may never return. I, for one, was glad to return to class, see my students’ faces, and know that they and their families are okay (many of them are from the Slidell area). Several of my students lamented not their families’ loss of property, but simply said, “We are thankful to be alive and have food and a place to stay.” These times do indeed put things into perspective, possibly one positive out of this surreal disaster.

So, here is what I cooked on Friday of whatever week this menu comes from (I really am having a hard time remembering), even though I am perfectly aware that today (the day I’m posting) is Saturday. But, whatever. I always buy ground beef in the 2 or 3 pound quantities, so I had about a pound leftover from our hamburger night. By Friday, I’m always looking for something quick, and these chimichangas really hit the spot. Yes, you have to fry them (gasp!) in about a half-inch of oil, but really, how often do you do that? And, look, I’m serving the fried thing with oranges and avocado! Doesn’t that help to balance out the grease? (This is what I tell myself when I have a diet coke with a medium pizza, anyway). You can make guacamole, of course, but these avocados were so perfectly ripe and pretty that I decided not to. The salsa is leftover from quesadilla night (Wednesday, I think?). Next week will be saner (at least I hope so.)

Beef Chimichangas with Orange-Red Onion Salad and Avocado

For the filling:

1 pound ground beef

2 cloves garlic, sliced thinly

1/2 small yellow onion, ciced

1 t. cumin

1 t. chili powder

1/2 t. seasoning salt

1/4 cup salsa

4 ounces pepper jack cheese

Cook the onion and garlic over medium heat, just until tender, about 4 minutes. Add the meat and seasonings. Cook until the beef is completely brown; drain well (I use a mesh strainer so I don’t lose the garlic or onion). Return the beef to the skillet, add the salsa and cheese and heat until cheese is melted and well-mixed in. Remove to a plate lined with paper towels (they will absorb more of the grease).

To assemble:

4 large tortillas

Enough oil to fill the skillet about 1/2 inch-up (I use canola)

Lay each tortilla flat, and place about 1/2 cup of the filling down the center. Fold in from the sides (like you were making a wrap), and then fold the ends up too (to make a closed packet). Heat the oil over medium and lay the chimis in the skillet, folded side down. Fry until brown, about 4-6 minutes per side. (The first ones will take a little longer, but once the oil gets really hot, they cook pretty quickly). I cook them two at a time; they should not touch in the skillet.

While they are frying, in a medium-sized bowl, toss 2 oranges, peeled and diced (I cut it into rings and then quarter each slice), about a quarter of a red onion, chopped very, very finely, 2 tablespoons of red wine vinegar, and 2 tablespoons of olive oil. Season well with salt and pepper.

Let the oranges sit and soak up the dressing while you finish frying. Remove each chimi, as it’s done, to a paper-towel-lined plate. While they are cooling, slice the avocado and sprinkle with salt. Plate up, and enjoy!

David and I have often been accused of being vegetarians. Yes, for those of you who live in other parts of the country, being a vegetarian is something you can be accused of in the South. Possibly even prosecuted in court, although I personally have never had it taken that far. In any case, we eat a lot of vegetables and not very much meat. Especially not very much red meat. But every now and then, I really crave a big, juicy burger. I don’t know if it’s too many years of Fourth of July in Mississippi, or possibly just growing up in a house with my father and two brothers, but I can’t escape the occasional physical need for grilled meat. David is always happy when these cravings strike–like me, he doesn’t eat red meat often, but when he does, he really enjoys it. I think it makes him feel more manly somehow, but he’s an artist–that’s a losing battle. He proved his muscles by grilling these burgers–they were perfectly falling apart, crispy and black on the outside and tender and not-quite-pink on the inside. I mixed up some Corn Salad from The Barefoot Contessa–a delightful mixture of corn straight off the cob, red onion, and basil with cider vinegar and olive oil. David ate the corn salad leftovers–all of them–straight out of the bowl the next day. I also cooked the remaining potatoes and onions I chopped for the hash browns on Tuesday, so the vegetables in no way took backstage. We are fair-minded people, after all. Here’s how we fixed the burgers:

David’s Burgers

1 1/2 pounds ground beef

1/2 yellow onion, chopped finely

1/2 cup bread crumbs

1 egg

1/4 cup Worcestshire

Salt and pepper

Mix all in a bowl (with hands, he says, if you can stand the goopy-ness), and form into patties. If you have time to refrigerate the patties for a while, they tend to hold up better on the grill. Grill over a medium flame to desired doneness.

To dress the burgers:

1 cup sliced mushrooms

1/2 yellow onion, diced finely

3 T. butter

1 t. Kosher salt

Sauté the mushrooms and onion in butter until very soft and the onions are beginning to brown. Top each burger with a heap of this mixture and some Swiss cheese. Enjoy your carnivorous meal, but don’t forget the veggies (or they will have their feelings hurt).