A Drop of Blood?

I hate to say, but no, it's not really blood. It's pomegranate molasses. Fra Luigi popped over the other night with a big bag of pomegranates from his tree and it got me thinking. Time To Make a SERIOUS mess.

So I broke them open by hand, squeezed big hunks into a stockpot. And yes, I got splashes of what looked like blood everywhere. Then just cooked it down with a few tablespoons of unrefined sugar and a vanilla pod. Very low simmer for about 3 hours.

And in the morning, this lovely, tart, nutty sweet, blood-like super-thick syrup was in the pot. I need not tell you how difficult this was to get into the jar! Nor that about a dozen or more pomegranates cooked down to this. But it is essential in Middle Eastern stews, and let me tell you, a little in tomato sauce is heavenly. Best of all, it never goes bad, completely shelf-stable forever. (Incidentally this can be done with grapes, for sapa.)

And just in case you don't have a costume for Halloween, go as your favorite saint, dripping blood from some missing body part. This would be great for Lucy. Though I'm thinking now of Oedipus. Anyone have a crown I can borrow?

What Caliban Really Had for Dinner

The Sunday Times in Britain ran this neat review of Joan Fitzpatrick's Renaissance Food book, which covers my chapter and first experiments in historic cooking. It's funny how so many years can pass. These were only a prelude to The Lost Art.

http://entertainment.timesonline.co.uk/tol/arts_and_entertainment/the_tls/article7167559.ece


And Check out www.good.is/post/why-fast-food-is-not-saving-you-time-nor-doing-you-other-favors/ Very nice review of the cookbook.

And yet another in teh Chicago Tribune www.chicagotribune.com/features/food/sc-food-1015-real-cooking-20101018,0,3746979.story

National Fluffernutter Day

In honor of National Fluffernutter Day, and after reading several posts relevant to the topic, I resolved that I could no longer resist. Abandoned the pile of midterms being graded and rushed home to make this paean to pure kitsch.

NOT a fluffernutter, as you know I cannot abide rules. So this is a thin Finn crisp rye cracker with caraway. A layer of Skippy, creamy of course. A layer of Fluff. A layer of nutella. Absolute gorgeosity of deliciousness. Another cracker on top was an improvement. But next time I think some bacon. Seriously. But what to call it? Fluffonutellina con speck. Actually a thin slice of lardo would be great too. Got TO RUN. AND DO IT NOW!!!

So what you see first now is the reposte. A slice of homemade sourdough bread toasted. A layer of the best Lebanese Helwa. Chunks of Mo's Bacon Bar made by one of the most exquisite creatures on earth, Katrina M. Then REAL fluff. Crushed pistachios and a drizzle of local wildflower honey. (Perfect dessert after a halibut vindaloo.)

Holy Smoke

Saturday I spent the whole damned day in front of the smoker. Which would have been nothing terribly out of the ordinary, but I had a strange feeling that I was channeling a past life. Seriously. Not a New Age Mystical intuition, but an odd ability to live in the bodies and minds of people who lived many years ago. I was a Baptist preacher, I'm guessing in the 17th century. Trust me, I can rant. Hence the name of this blog. But sometimes I wonder how a Brooklyn born Jewish boy came to be sitting in front of a smoking kettle, sipping his own moonshine, chewing on a plug of baccy. Listening to bluegrass.


Smoking everything I could get my hands on. So I am actually myself smoked. Unpictured are the pork shoulder which was simply roasted in wet smoke after all this was done. 6 hours maybe. Ate last night at Lisa's. OH, and a little eel. He's hard as a rock now and hanging in the wine fridge. No idea what to do with him. But see the beef jerky. Top sirloin. Round does not work as well. Then a pancetta. Cured and smoked. It's really just a rolled pork belly though. Went into a broccoli rabe sauteed with garlic and chili peppers. Swear I nearly fainted.

And best of all a little tongue. It's got to be a calf, much smaller than any I've seen before. Bought at the Asian grocery for a few bucks. Fresh. Cured for a week, then smoked over oak. Next steamed for several hours and peeled and sliced thin. I'm guessing.

You are coming over aren't you?

The sink is now unclogged after I made a rash decision to chuck some wayward brussels sprouts into the garbage disposal. We shall not do anything of the kind again. But now we are ready to go.

There are pickles in the cabinet going, fresh salame in the wine fridge. I am gearing up for a party of some kind folks. Let me know you'll be around.

The Splendid Table

HEY Folks, Starting Tomorrow Night you can download an interview with me on NPR's The Splendid Table with Lynne Rosetto Kasper. I think it's the best food show out there.

http://splendidtable.publicradio.org/listings/101002/


ALSO, just in today, a very nice review on culinate (that really sounds like a dirty verb to me) nonetheless:

www.culinate.com/books/book_reviews/is_real_cooking_a_lost_art

and another on www.thegastronomersbookshelf.com/8177_the-lost-art-of-real-cooking-ken-albala-2010-us

BTW, the effect of these was immediate. Sunday afternoon the book is #496 on amazon. Only behind Pollan in this category. THANKS LYNNE! And Kind Reviewers.

nope make that #398 as of 5:30

Serendipitous Fall

My larders had been largely cleared out midsummer for tastings, talks and parties. So I started a lot of projects, all of which appear to have come to fruition at exactly the same moment, on a single plate for breakfast, on an ordinary weekday.

Clockwise from 6, there's my first bread made from hand milled flour. Dense, a little gritty, and lightly sour, it is actually phenomenally tasty. Then there's the last batch of pickles, which did indeed make it through the summer heat on the counter. Still crunchy. Then the coppa, actually not sure what it should be called. Cured pig parts, stuffed into casings. Chewy but sweet and a little smokey from something else in the wine fridge. And taste a little like the GoG's fingers. Then my last cheese, rather hard, a little like kashkaval I think. Piquant and crumbly too. Incidentally oiling the rind (after Vincenzo Tanaza's 17th c. directions) does work. And lastly an experiment. Kimmy and Brett's mission figs, a whole shopping bag, boiled down with a little sugar, spread on parchment paper and left outside to dry to a solid paste. Rolled up and sliced. Serious fig mojo.

Is it serendipity or planning? A little of both. Be sure to stop by for a nibble before it's all gone, that's all I can say.

Melon Mojito

Do you remember about 20 years ago there was a popular drink called a melon ball? Horrid. Midori Liqueur, Vodka, I think even pineapple juice. Let's banish that thought. But the idea of a melon drink is still singularly appealing. And refresing, especially after a run in serious heat. Another story.

This happened mostly because I went to visit the operation of a friend who breeds melons. Yes, I mean breeds. DID you know that each individual flower must be hand pollinated - you must manually faciliatate sex with melons? It was dizzying.

Out in the field she cut a big box full of melons for me last Wednesday and I have been eating melon, a LOT, ever since. Then today it occured to me. AH, a melong drink. Bought some rum, and someone broke my blender. Will be no mango daquairis today.

So here's the recipe. YES, I will do it. In the standard recipe format, lest someone accuse me of never writing recipes. OK?

1 large lemon, juiced
1 small lime, juiced
1 tablespoon sugar, preferably white, but organic raw fair trade sustainable demerara mayy be subsititued
1 knob ginger*
1 green fleshed melon, the best you can possibly imagine. These were netted skinned cataloupes and kind of honeydew that makes you faint with pleasure. Firm but sweet. Oh, sorry. Back to stilted recipe format.
Yo ho ho. (i.e. a bottle of rum) If you can afford no better, use Bacardi, unless you're snob.

Mix the first 3 ingredients. Stir well, in a counter-clockwise motion, twelve times. Grate the fourth ingredient into the palm of your meticulously sanitized hand and squeeze the juice into the citrus mixture. That's ginger juice. Cut the best part of the melon into chunks. Without the seeds. Preferably the interior, the outer rind is relatively flavorless. But do save the rinds and squeeze them into your citrus-ginger juice. You will be amazed at how much melon juice somes out. A cup at least.

Mix all the previous ingredients with the final ingredient. Exactly 3.4 ounces. Any deviation will result in poisoning an immediate asphyxiation and painful death.

Actually add a shot, or two. I may have added three. Put some melon chunks, a handful of ice cubes (which as always was not mentioned in the original list of ingredients because anything to do with water is not an ingredient) and all the rest in a nice big wine glass. Makes two drinks.

Drink.


* ginger is a root that can be bought in most Asian groceries and some other stores.