I'm thoroughly enjoying the surprising, light tingling sensation going on in my mouth right now- the result of Tasmanian pepper berries.

These small, shriveled, dried black berries are also referred to as Mountain Pepper. They grow in Tasmania on a native shrub that can reach five meters in height. It's leaves are dark green with distinctive crimson stems, and it thrives in cool, wet habitats from sea level to the high altitude regions throughout the island. Hand harvested during their fall season, March through May, they're used locally to flavor everything from meat to breads, pastas, mustards and cheeses. I was surprised by the purplish color that they produced when I ground them in my mortar, and that the center part of the berry contained a small hard seed that would not break down. They start sweet, then gradually increase in intensity. The heat doesn't last very long, but the slight tingling sensation- similar to szechwan peppercorns- pleasantly remains and lingers in your mouth.

I ground them with toasted coriander, cumin, cardamom, mustard seeds and salt- a version of garam masala, I suppose. It's fitting that spices were the first product to become truely globalized; fitting that my particular blend combined spices from 4 different continents. When all said and done, it tasted pretty good on my local carrots, celery, potato and cherry tomatoes when roasted in a hot oven. The piece de resistance was an egg cracked in the center of the hot pan and cooked until over easy- as always, a fresh yolk is the only sauce required.

Salty island breezes, bone warming broth and my favorite of foods.

I haven’t been posting much because I haven’t been cooking much. I’ve been plagued by a hovering black cloud the past two months that seems to rain on everything I’ve cooked, depriving any joy in the process or consumption. I’ve been consisting on grapefruit, yoghurt with preserves and cereal in the mornings. Rice and salads in the evenings. Lot’s of meals eaten elsewhere. Breakups and challenging times do that to me. I’ll eventually snap out of it and regain my grace in the kitchen, but it’s no excuse to not write about what I’ve been learning. So here goes:

In Mauritius it’s a common treat to pick a pineapple from a tree and dip it in sea water, sometimes sprinkling a little spicy chili pepper on top. The first person to tell me about this was from the island. He was reminiscing about acquiring said pineapple and riding his bike down to the coast with a group of friends to pair it with the salty sea water. It was what they did on a lazy afternoon, with the sun shining and the ocean breeze blowing. It sounded like heaven to me, and I’m excited that he’s started a company that produces preserves and other spices and honeys from his native land. We should be getting them into the Deli in a few months, and my first bite of the pineapple preserves with chilies and salt will be taken with my eyes closed, imagining the smell of the ocean air and warm sun.

I was in my old haunting grounds of Chicago this past week, and my trip wouldn’t have been complete without a steaming bowl of Vietnamese Phở. Dora (ever passionate and knowledgeable about ethnic cuisines) and I piled the freshly torn Thai basil, ngò gai and jalapenos, sweetened it slightly with the hoisin sauce and spiced it with the Sriracha. It has a similar effect on me to how I feel when I’m immersed in a hot tub- it warms my entire body, all my yards of skin and organs from head to toe. It also makes me very sleepy, which was a welcome feeling since sleeping has been eluding me of late. I can never finish an entire bowl, though, and learned a great way of extending the joy from Dora: strain the noodles from the leftovers and warm it for breakfast the following morning. It’s my own version of ‘hair of the dog.’

I have a timeless friend named Brad who has a gracious place at the bar of a lot of the great unsung restaurants throughout the windy city. I always envision him doing a waltz between chatting with the waitress who’s inevitably a good friend, completing the latest crossword in the paper and watching baseball if there is a tele around. Saturday morning he introduced me to 'The Bristol' in Bucktown (2000 block of N. Damen). I ended up having brunch there two days in a row, and would have gone back if I could have. Straightforward and delicious, the small brunch menu features a lot of dishes involving eggs, all perfectly poached with gloriously runny yolks. The eggs benedict with stone ground mustard hollandaise sauce was great, as were the chilaquiles with New Mexican green chilies and lime, and the bourbon manhattans and bloody marys. There was duck on the brunch menu as well, which sounded equally promising. Next time.

A Rich Welcome for a New Year

It's officially 2009, another year is behind us, and it's been a wonderfully relaxing day here in my rickety little flat. Last night we had a delicious dinner at Amadeus, a Polish restaurant here in Ann Arbor, and then brought in the New Year with old friends. There was a lot of singing and shenanigans, and most of the day today was spent in recovery mode.

Since it's cold outside we decided to cook something to not only warm our bellies but the apartment too. I remembered a recipe that I first made several years ago- I don't even recall where I was living at the time or how I came across it. Beef Bourguingnon from Ina Garten. It's damn good- rich and filling, and I never have a hard time making my way through all of the leftovers. We ate it with mashed potatoes, which were extra good because I'm out of cream and used only butter to bind them together.

For posterity, I wanted to post a link for Brewers Blondies. I've made them twice in the past two weeks and even though I don't have a huge sweet tooth, they seem to have an addictive effect on everyone they come in contact with. No one can seem to eat just one. The best part (and the reason behind the name) is the addition of malt- in the form of powder and chopped up Whoppers candies. It adds a delicious deapth to the brown sugar, chocolate and walnut combo, although if you didn't know it was in there, you wouldn't be able to tell. There is no grandstanding with malt- it's like the person who is behind the scenes making sure everything is organized and running smoothly, but stays out of the limelight. If you can't find it at the grocery store, look for Ovaltine malted drink mix- it works just fine.

Polenta Jacket

It's bone-chilling, paw-freezing, no-messin' around cold outside. Combined with my usual winter blues, it's hard to want to get out of bed in the morning. Especially when your apartment is drafty and you have no control over the heat.

That being said, the thought of polenta with a lacy fried egg and applewood smoked bacon did the trick this morning. Damn good. Nap inducing, which wasn't entirely helpful, but it thickened my blubber and prepared me for the world outside my door.



I don't have a proper recipe for polenta. I use the coarse ground variety that we carry at Zingerman's and cook it with chicken stock. The ratio I prefer is usually 3 parts stock to 1 part polenta- less stock for a thicker body, more if I want it to be loose. Whisk the polenta into hot stock over medium heat and whisk it for 15 minutes or so on low heat. Easy, straight forward. This morning I added a few tablespoons of demi glace (which is making a rare appearance in my fridge), and it added to the richness.

I fried up a thick strip of bacon with a few leaves of sage, and then added some butter and fried an egg sunny side up over med-high heat. I particularly love the lacy edges that come from cooking an egg in a hot cast iron pan, especially when juxtaposed with a runny yolk. Salt. Pepper. Parmesan. In temperatures like these, blubber building meals like this are a survival technique.

Snowed in w/ coffee and a chorizo tortilla

We've had a fairly major snow storm, and work just called to tell me that I don't need to be in until 2pm. I hadn't planned on having so much time today, but I'm not complaining. Last week's broadcast of This American Life, "20 acts in 60 minutes," is keeping me in good spirits, and I'm midway through putting together lemon scones, but stopped to take a breakfast break. I reheated some of the recipe below, and brewed a press pot of Intelligentsia's 'El Gallo Breakfast Blend,' which is a blend of Latin American beans. It's getting better as it cools, which is my favorite thing about drinking coffee- the way the flavor evolves as the temperature cools.

Yesterday my friend Marshall and I cooked from Michael Roux's 'Eggs'- a beautiful book dedicated to all things eggs. We chose this book because Marshall has a brood of chickens (affectionately known as 'his girls') who produce some exceptionally delicious eggs. We chose a recipe for a Spanish tortilla with chorizo.

(adapted from Michael Roux)

1/3 cup olive oil
1 russet potato, peeled & cubed
1 medium red onion, roughly chopped
salt & pepper
about a 1/2 pound of hot chorizo
1/2 garlic clove, crushed
2 T flat Italian parsley, chopped
6 eggs

In an 8-inch non-stick skillet, heat the oil. Add the diced potatoes and cook over medium heat for about 10 minutes. Add the onions, salt lightly, and cook for another 10 minutes.

In the meantime, chop the chorizo into thin slices (about 2mm). Add them to the skillet with the garlic and parsley. Mix them up well, without crushing the potatoes, and cook for another 2 minutes or so. Tip everything onto a plate and allow it to cool slightly. Wipe clean the skillet with a paper towel.

Lightly beat the eggs in a large bowl and season with salt and pepper. Heat the remaining olive oil in the skillet. Delicately stir the slightly cooled potato mixture into the eggs, and then pour all of it into the pan. Start cooking over medium heat, stirring gently every few minutes with the side of a fork, as if making an omelet.

As soon as the eggs are half cooked, stop stirring, and cook over very low heat for 2 to 3 minutes, until the underside of the tortilla is almost cooked. Slide it onto a lightly oiled platter, then invert it back into the pan and cook for another 2 minutes, until both sides are cooked the same and the middle of the tortilla is still soft.

Slide the tortilla onto a plate and serve it whole or cut into wedges. it is equally good served hot, warm, or at room temperature, but not chilled.

Tomato Tarte Tatin

My roommate came home with a 5" cast iron skillet a few weeks ago. He was geeked about tarte tatins, French upside-down caramelized apple tarts, and variations on that theme. He bought apples. He bought pears. He bought tomatoes and thyme. The following recipe was what we put together this morning, taken from a NY Times article from last September.

So, this is our election day. Sleeping in, a leisurely breakfast, catching up with the news, and playing around with a new recipe. There were no lines at the polls, despite all the news reports that said otherwise. The weather is oddly warm for November 4th- no jacket required, and everything is warm toned from the sun falling through the yellow leaves that are still hanging from the trees. This caramelized tomato tart, in all it's flavor complexity, was fitting for today.

Caramelized Tarte Tatin
from 9/17/08 NY Times, Melissa Clark


1 sheet of Puff pastry dough, either home made or store bought.
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
3 red onions, halved and thinly sliced
1/4 cup plus a pinch of sugar
1/2 teaspoon sherry vinegar
1/4 cup chopped pitted Kalamata olives
1 1/2 pints (about 1 pound) cherry or grape tomatoes; a mix of colors is nice
1 tablespoon chopped fresh thyme leaves
Kosher salt, to taste
Freshly ground black pepper, to taste.

1. Preheat oven to 425 degrees. Unfold puff pastry sheet and cut into a 10-inch round; chill, covered, until ready to use.
2. Melt butter in a large skillet over medium heat. Add onions and a pinch of sugar and cook, stirring, until onions are golden and caramelized, 15 to 20 minutes. Add 2 tablespoons water and let cook off, scraping brown bits from bottom of pan. Transfer onions to a bowl.
3. In a clean, ovenproof 9-inch skillet, combine 1/4 cup sugar and 3 tablespoons water. Cook over medium heat, swirling pan gently (do not stir) until sugar melts and turns amber, 5 to 10 minutes. Add vinegar and swirl gently.
4. Sprinkle olives over caramel. Scatter tomatoes over olives, then sprinkle onions on. Season with thyme leaves, salt and pepper. Top with puff pastry round, tucking edges into pan. Cut several long vents in top of pastry.
5. Bake tart until crust is puffed and golden, about 30 minutes. Let stand for 5 minutes, then run a knife around pastry to loosen it from pan, and flip tart out onto a serving platter. Cut into wedges and serve immediately.

New Books

There are a lot of books out there that I'm dying to have the time to read.

Of new note, I've read great things about 'Bakewise' by Shirley O. Corriher. It's a baking related addendum to her older publication, 'Cookwise', which I've not read either but have heard great reviews on.

And then there's my renewed interest in Christine Ferber. She's got two books out that I'm particularly interested in- the first is for her preserves, the second is a book on tarts.

In the case of Christine Ferber and her magnificent preserves, I've cooked from other peoples copies of them, but need to get my own and get busy experimenting with them again.
I'm probably less inclined to make preserves at home, since I've had standing plans with someone at work to make them for the past two summers and haven't done it yet. My kitchen is too small, and I've never canned before (which, to the uninitiated, is quite daunting). But tarts are a thing of glory to me- I dream about making them, I love their complicated, multi-step processes, and would be lying if I said I didn't love how impressive they look when done correctly.

Then there is also 'A Platter of Figs' by David Tanis. Just hearing his biography makes me want to jump into reading this book, in hopes that via osmosis my life will become vastly more interesting (part time head chef at Chez Panisse, part time resident of Paris who runs an occasional supper club). He's got a good bit of recipes for duck in there, which is always a good thing.

I'm still looking for a good, comprehensive book on olives....