Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Amedei Chuao and 9




While snooty chocolate  connoisseurs insist that we all convert to eating only single-origin bars, I really disagree. I think as more people became interested in good chocolate, a backlash among chocolate snobs resulted in fads like single-origin bars, organic chocolate, fair-trade chocolate and a disdain for milk and white chocolate. At the point where the fads dictate taste, people will mindlessly consume terrible-tasting single-origin bars just because somebody told them that they're "better" than blends.

The blending of cacao beans is a wonderful thing. In fact, I tend not to enjoy single-origin bars as much as a good blend. Blending is done to balance flavor profiles of different beans. Different beans lend different characteristics to the flavor of a finished bar. A particular bean variety may have fantastic fruity flavors but fall short on the finish. Some beans are quite acidic and wouldn't be pleasant on their own, but provide balance to other beans that may be short on acidity. Generally, I tend to find single-origin bars interesting to taste, but not quite pleasurable to eat. Having said that, there are some fantastic single-origin bars. One of these is the  the Amedei Chuao-- I think Chuao beans are so interesting. I'm always amazed when I eat this bar how balanced the flavor profile can be given that it consists of only one type of bean. It starts off with bitter coffee flavors that are perfectly balanced by acidity. Toward the middle I get dark cherry flavors and blueberries, and at the very end I taste earthy enoki mushrooms. 



While Chuao beans are considered by many to be the best beans in the world, the Amedei Chuao bar is not my favorite. My absolute favorite bar ever is the Amedei 9 bar. The 9 bar is the bar that got me obsessed with chocolate. It's the bar that inspired me to spend the money I work so hard for on other $15 chocolate bars in hopes of finding another gem, drive an hour away from my home to a famous chocolate shop where parking costs $20, and bore my friends by talking way too much about chocolate.  The scent is complex -- dark, rich, with the subtle "cat pee" aroma of sauvignon blanc but not as bright or acidic. It's a blend of beans from 9 different plantations. I'm not familiar with any of the plantations, but there is definitely the enoki mushroom flavor of Chuao beans that I enjoy in there somewhere along with blueberries, and chili pepper. Beyond these flavor notes, my tasting notes for this bar are rather vague and metaphorical, and I won't bore you all with poetic raptures that cannot be empirically verified. I've tried to sit down and taste the Amedei 9 bar and take systematic notes, but I've never been successful. I enjoy the experience of eating the Amedei 9 too much to intellectualize it.

Thursday, October 22, 2009

The Chocolate Boutique in my Room


Last week I invited a friend of mine over for a chocolate tasting . She said yes, but didn't seem as enthusiastic as I had wanted her to be. Thinking that she must not have understood how much fun this would be, I decided to take out my chocolate collection and lay it out in a relatively pleasing way and took a picture to send to her for the e-vite. I love chocolate, and I compulsively buy different ones the way many women buy clothing, shoes and bags. I've spent a lot of money on chocolate in the last few years. What you see here wasn't everything -- it's just the stuff I haven't eaten yet. So yes, it is getting more and more similar to the many women who compulsively shop and end up with a bunch of shoes that they've never worn.

Anyway, my friend saw the picture and confirmed her attendance with a lot more enthusiasm.

I know it's not a good idea to have all the chocolate just sitting out like this, but it looks so pretty and enticing. Tomorrow, after the tasting, I will put the chocolate all away again. . .::sigh::  Ideally, someday I'll have a nice big temperature-controlled box to display my chocolates in so that I can visually enjoy them without exposing them to the varying temperatures of my room.

Thursday, October 15, 2009

Green Onion Pancakes

I made these green onion pancakes using Cecilia Chang's recipe from The Seventh Daughter: My Culinary Journey From Beijing to San Francisco.

The recipe called for sesame oil, which gives it a wonderful flavor that is distinctly Asian. I think next time, though, I will adapt this recipe and use a technique from Vietnamese cuisine and make green-onion oil. Green onion oil is a mixture of sliced green onions mixed with a neutral oil (I usually use canola). After mixing the two together, I use the back of a spoon to "mash" some of the green onion pieces against the side of the bowl to release their flavor.

These green onion pancakes were yummy. Its pleasant oiliness went well with oolong tea.

Risotto Nazi

About a year ago I came across one of the most infamous posts on the food website Chowhound.com

Joe H. posted the "Absolute Best Risotto You Will Ever Eat" -- a toasted pistachio and gorgonzola dolce risotto recipe that had won him $10,000 and a trip to Italy. While some people commented that the risotto was too heavy, I have never had any issue eating extremely rich food and was intrigued to try the recipe for myself.

The opportunity came on a visit to Cambridge where my friend and I visited the famed Formaggio Kitchen, an amazing grocery store that Julia Child used to frequent. I figured they would be the perfect source for the ingredients Joe H. listed in his prized recipe. Joe H. says this recipe will serve 8-12 people, and although there were only 3 of us eating, Joe H. did not want people to experiment the first time we made this recipe. I've tried another Joe H recipe, have read many of his posts, and trust him. So we ended up with a lot of risotto.

Among the ingredients I got from Formaggio Kitchen:



From the label:
"Vialone Nano is the preferred rice in the kitchens of Venice and the Veneto region of Northern Ialy. This grain is shorter and rounder than all other types of Superfino rice. Riso Vialone Nano absorbs more liquid and plumps up beautifully when cooked.

"Principato de Lucedio is one of Italys finest rice growing estates. Located in the heart of the Piemonte region, the 800-year-old farm is home to Contessa Rosetta Clara Cavalli d'Olivola. The Contessa's father bought the historic estate in 1937, with its 12th century Cisternic abbey.

"The rice of Lucedio is grown in the flood plains surrounding the estate and is harvested once a year in September. After a few months of drying and storage, the grains are husked only when orders are received to ensure its freshness. The Contessa is proud to bring to your table an Italian rice with no equal."





Joe H. called for grated Parmigiano Reggiano from the "best and most moist brick you can find." There were several choices for Parmigiano Reggiano from Formaggio Kitchen. I thought this would be good enough. Joe H. spends about $13/pound for his Parmigiano Reggiano, so I didn't feel compelled to splurge for the $25/pound Parmigiano Reggiano they had.







Joe H. was adamant about using gorgonzola dolce. No other gorgonzola would do. This was such a beautiful cheese that I almost didn't want to go through with putting it in the risotto lest I ruin it. This cow-milk cheese came from the Piedmont region of Italy and is aged for 3 months. The texture was softer than other gorgonzola's I've had, the aroma little funkier, and the flavor sweeter and milder.




Formaggio Kitchen gave us three choices for butter: Cabot, Plugra, and this one. I think my friend and I were bewitched by the French writing, the circular shape, and the paper wrapping. It was pale yellow and very mild in flavor. Without a doubt, I would have been much happier using the Cabot or Plugra and I'll know next time that this recipe is not the proper venue for trying out an unfamiliar butter.

We also got a bottle of wine from Formaggio Kitchen which was recommended to us by a staff member. I remember it being a bit oak-y, with notes of ripe apple. It was nice to drink, but I wish that it had had more acidity to balance all the rich ingredients in this recipe. I've always had trouble picking out wine because it can be so personal. There are way too many varieties and brands, and you can't really tell if a wine is going to be acidic enough until you've bought the bottle, opened it, and tasted it. In the end, we sprinkled in lemon juice even though Joe H.'s recipe didn't call for it. (I'm sorry for modifying the recipe, Joe. But I really felt like my risotto needed it.)

Joe H. notes that we need a 1/2 cup of toasted pistachios that we shell ourselves. We picked out exactly 1/2 a cup of unshelled, unsalted pistachios from Formaggio Kitchen that were quite tasty. Unfortunately, I didn't take into account how many pistachios I would eat as I shelled them and not all of them made it to the final product.

Joe H. called for real chicken stock. Being unfamiliar with this area of the country, I didn't know where to go for good chicken to make the stock. We ended up stopping by a "regular" grocery store and picking up chicken drumsticks to make the chicken stock. I simmered the stock for over 24 hours, and there was hardly any flavor in the stock at all. I was so ashamed -- I pride myself on making great stock. I should have known better -- I remembered afterwards that my mother had told me once that drumsticks don't make for good broth. I think this ultimately really hurt the outcome of this dish. The next time I make this, I will be sure to be more careful about the source and types of chicken scraps I use.

It's a great recipe, I was overall pleased with the results, and I learned some things to be mindful of for next time: I will use Cabot or Plugra butter, use a wine with higher acidity, make sure my chicken stock is perfect, and make sure I buy enough pistachios to munch on. Delicious!

Joe H. mentions that this dish doesn't re-heat up very well. While I found this to be true, I enjoyed the risotto reheated anyway. It was also delicious cold. I frequently stopped by the refrigerator to carve out pieces to snack on. For some reason, I also felt like this would be comforting to eat cold as a hangover cure, but I was not going to get a hangover on purpose just to test this.

Thank you, Joe H, for being so generous with us and sharing your recipe.

Chocolate Macarons


















I first tasted macarons when my mom came back from her first trip to Paris. Amid the scarves, skirts, and sweaters she brought back, she also brought back a box of cookies that resembled baby hamburgers. I was intrigued by these French cookies, which I had never seen or heard of before. They were beautiful to look at, and the flavors were exotic to me at the time -- rose, pistachio, almond. Before seeing these macarons, I had always considered a cookie without chocolate not worthy of eating.

I recently re-discovered macarons after a phase of eating them quite frequently at Fleur de Cocoa in Los Gatos, CA. The crust was thin and shattered when I bit into it, leading to a chewy merengue interior. The flavors were nuanced, subtle, and sophisticated. Inspired, I decided to try my hand at making macarons for myself.

Based on suggestions from others, I left the egg whites out uncovered for about 4 hours to age them and then beat them by hand to shiny white soft peaks. I know they should be whipped to stiff peaks, but my arms couldn't take much more.

I made chocolate macarons by adapting Davod Lebovitz's recipe. Instead of his chocolate/prune filling, I made a chocolate/peanut butter filling (Michel Cluizel chocolate, Trader Joe's Valencia peanut butter, and Cabot butter, mixed in proportions until it tasted good to me).

My first batch of macarons don't look as refined as other macarons I've seen. They were not slim, posh, or glossy. The drab brown color and gloppy filling make them look absolutely frumpy as far as cookies go.
Despite their dowdy appearence, I was proud of them. While the flavor combination of peanut butter and chocolate can be considered unsophisticated, I found it to be delicious and comforting. I was also quite pleased with the texture of my macarons -- the chewy interior served as a foil to the delicate crust that shattered as I bit into it. The best part was being able to indulge in them with a gluttonous zeal that I had always refrained from doing when they looked too pretty to eat.






 

Nocino 2009

I dream of one day having a little alcove of my home devoted to beverages -- an apothecary of mismatched bottles of home-made alcoholic infusions, custom tisane blends, and unique glassware. With this dream in mind, one of my summer projects this year was making nocino, a green-walnut liqueur.

I was quite pleased with the results -- it has a dark medicinal flavor highlighted by a sublte pine-ness that gently brightens up the flavor. It reminds me of some combination of Moxie, root beer, and cola. The recipe I used is an amalgamation of my research of nocino recipes. Next year I may tweak it a bit. Enjoy.


Recipe
30 green walnuts (I picked them around July 6) split in half or in quarters
5 cloves
2 cinnamon sticks (about 3 inches each)
zest from one lemon
1 L Absolut Vodka
1 star anise
about 2 inches of a juniper branch
2.5 cups real maple syrup (i.e., NOT Mrs. Butterworth)

I mixed everything except the maple syrup and let it sit in a glass jar for about a month, shaking it every couple of days. After about 1 week, I removed the star anise (its flavor was starting to dominate too much). I secured a layer of paper towel instead of a lid because I read somewhere that this mixture needs oxygen. After about a month, I strained out the walnuts and spices. At this point, the liquid was very bitter. I added the maple syrup to balance out the bitterness.

By mid-August, the bitterness of the liqueur has mellowed, and I feared the maple syrup was overpowering everything when I tasted it at room temperature. But served with ice, it was perfect.

 

April Fool's Cupcake 2009















For April Fool's Day this year, a coworker brought three different types of cupcakes to work: "peas and carrots," "corn on the cob," and "spaghetti and meatballs."
They were absolutely darling, and I kept going into the break room just to look at them.


"Peas and carrots" cupcakes were made from green M&M's peas and Starburst carrots

"Corn on the cob" cupcakes were made using Jelly-Belly corn kernels and Starburst butter

"Spaghetti and meatball" cupcakes were made using icing noodles, jam sauce, and Ferrero Rocher meatballs.





























Alive and Kicking Lobster

On my trip to Boston this year, I had the pleasure of eating at Alive and Kicking Lobster. This no-fuss "restaurant" looks like the proprietors converted their home garage into a business. I tend to like the no-fuss approach because when restaurants are a little too posh-looking, I start to become suspicious that the flavor of the food is not a priority.




My sandwich was great. The lobster was fresh and sweet, and the varying textures of the meat was delightful. Tail meat is chewy and substantial; claw meat is tender and delicate. The mixture was simple -- just enough mayonnaise to hold it together and lots of black pepper. The generously buttered toasty bread complemented the the filling perfectly. I only wished there was a wedge of lemon -- lemon and lobster are friends.




After lunch, I bought some live lobsters from them to take home for dinner with my friends. The woman who helped me was wonderful. She took her time to engage me in conversation about the best size lobsters to get and the best way to cook them.

Her traditional method was to boil some water, put the lobsters in tail-first, and let the water come to a second boil before putting the timer. She let me in on a secret though -- the real pros cook their lobsters in the microwave! You put two in a heavy-ish plastic produce bag facing in opposite directions. You don't need to add water -- the lobster will cook in its own reserves.

I'm sorry for not being more specific about cooking times. The notes I feverishly took as she dictated them to me have since been lost.

Boston is Beautiful

I had the pleasure of visiting Boston a few months ago for the first time. It is such a beautiful place.


Harvard University School of Business

City landscape from the bridge on the Charles River




The Christian Science Center at night is gorgeous.





I also spent a day exploring Boston Library and the neighborhood around it







Boston at Dusk

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Persimmon Spice Cake Fall 2007


Every autumn my persimmon tree gives me more fruit than I can possibly eat plain. A couple years ago, I experimented with what to do with my bounty. One of those experiments resulted in this spice cake. It was yummy -- flavorful, tender, and perfect on a fall evening with a cup of tea.



Recipe for Persimmon Spice Cake:
3 firm fuyu persimmons peeled and chopped into half-inch cubes
2 tsp baking soda
1/2 cup softened butter
1 2/3 cup sugar
2 eggs
2 tsp lemon juice
2 tsp vanilla extract
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp table salt
1/4 tsp ground cloves
1 tsp ground cinnamon
1/4 tsp ground nutmeg
1 cup walnuts

1. Mix the chopped persimmons with the 2 tsp of baking soda.
2. Cream together the butter and sugar.
3. Add the eggs to the butter-sugar mixture
4. Add the lemon juice and vanilla extract to the egg-butter-sugar mixture
5. Mix together the flour, baking powder, salt, cloves, cinnamon, and nutmeg together. Combine this mixture with the persimmons.
6. Finally, mix the persimmon mixture with the egg-butter-sugar mixture and combine.
7. Pour into a pan. I used a Muffin Bundt pan.

Bake at 350 degrees Fahrenheit for 50 minutes.


Peeled persimmons
 |

Persimmons -- peeled and diced



Diced persimmons with flour








 Mixed with wet ingredients. As you can see, it's very thick