foodie nyc

Aglio Oilio, Bastardized

By now, you've read enough about the simple, traditional pasta we always have on Christmas Eve.    Olive oil, garlic, peperoncino, parsley and parm regg make up the dish.   Despite all of the adventures I like to take with ingredients, I can rarely muster the nerve to mess with this dish.

But as part of the post Kate Nash dinner, I said screw tradition. 

The concept and technique for the dish remained the same, but the ingredients were turned upside down.   I started with olive oil in a pan, but rather than infusing with garlic and peperocino, I went with garlic, smoked paprika and a dash of ground cardamom.   After a handful of parsley, the oil stays on low heat for all of the flavors to come together. 

After cooking the pasta to the point of almost al dente, it's added to the oil to cook just a bit more to immerse itself in the flavored oil.   To take this bit of heresy to another level, I finished the dish with grated 5 year old aged gouda instead of the traditional parm regg.   

The smokey, fragrant oil was intense, flavorful and earthy.   I was surprised at how much I enjoyed the aged gouda in the pasta.    It lent the same nutty, salty flavor of the parm regg, but the caramel flavors were an interesting twist. 

Cooking for Kate Nash

As I always say, cooking inspiration can come from the unlikeliest of places.    

Music shouldn't be a surprising source of inspiration for long time readers of this site.     I've sporadically posted the music I listen to in the kitchen.   And last year, I created a dish inspired
by one of my favorite musicians, Andrew Bird, after seeing him in concert in 2007.

For the past few months, I've been completely in love with Kate Nash.    Her songs come across as real, stream-of-conscious stories of her life.  As I watched her in concert on Jan 7,  I couldn't help but admire her ability to be amazingly sweet, yet all of sudden sour, bitchy,  and even slightly unbalanced at the same time.

I've written about my attraction to the bitchy sweetness dichotomy on this site already.    Sure, sweetness is important but there's something interesting about the occasional curve ball that feistiness adds to life. 

In fact,  listening to Kate Nash tell a dude off through witty sarcasm is pretty hot.  I couldn't imagine being told off and feeling good about it, but after listening to Kate Nash do it,  I think it might be possible.   

As I thought about all this at the concert,  I couldn't help but realize I was describing her personality in food terms.

In my mind, a Kate Nash dish would be colorful, vibrant and definitely feminine.  There would be bit of sweetness that would be balanced by a mouth puckering tartness and a hint of spiciness.   

I went to the market looking to re-create the sweet and bitchy flavors I thought about while watching Kate Nash in concert.   Here are the results.

Red Mullet on Banana
Meyer Lemon, Mango Juice
Cilantro Mango Jalapeno Pomegranate Salsa 

I wanted to pair a mild fish with a light, tart sauce and a salsa that was both spicy, sweet and crunchy.   Meyer lemons are frequently described as a cross between a  lemon and an orange, but they're still rather acidic on their own.    I juiced two Meyer lemons with a whole mango.   The mango not only adds sweetness, but adds a creamy body to the Meyer lemon juice. 

Red mullet is an excellent, mild white fish that's a breeze to make.   I cook the fish on a non-stick pan skin down the entire time, solely to create a crispy skin.   I even broil the red mullet skin side up for a minute right before serving, just to further enhance the crispiness of the skin.

I perched the red mullet on a small raw slice of banana and garnished with the salsa, then poured  the Meyer lemon juice around the fish.   The tart Meyer lemon cuts through the richness of the fish, and is balanced by the sweetness of the mango and banana.   The occasional bite of jalapeño adds an unexpected spiciness, while the pomegranate adds a crunchy texture.

Bitchy and sweet, indeed.   

Kate Nash photo courtesy of Rockographer.

Music in the Kitchen: July 2007

As a few of my friends know all too well, I am obsessed with the song Ada from The National's new album, Boxer.  I'm not sure it's even the best song on the album, but it's on every new playlist I make these days. 

I was listening to this playlist while recently making lavender steamed cod with a cherry chili vinegar .  As I sliced, simmered, pureed and strained, the lyrics of the chorus of Ada, "Leave it All Up in the Air", was ringing in my head.   

Occasionally, cooking leaves my mind wandering, as if I'm on autopilot.  There isn't usually much need for me to think about the process of pitting cherries, you know?  Instead, Ada sparked an observation about myself.  I'm at a stage in my life where so much of what I value is currently being left "up in the air" - undefined, unresolved, unfinished and seemingly left to chance.  While that sounds like a negative, I reminded myself that this is a self imposed imposition.

Leaving things up in the air has always been an acquired skill for me.  My personality doesn't naturally accept  undefined or unclear goals, which I've currently been finding a bit of a personality flaw.  Over the past six months, one of my personal objectives is to let things sort themselves out with little interference on my end.  I'm letting my personal life run on the path it naturally sets for itself, as opposed to the grand plan I've usually mapped out in my head .   In many ways, the freedom from the burden of planning the next move has taught me to go with the flow a bit, something which I feel was missing from my life for a while.  Every now and then, I frequently feel the urge to take control back and map out the next move.   But I relent, if only temporarily. Leave it all up in the air, indeed.

Ah, the joys of cooking and music.

By the way, this post is part of my sporadic playlist series called Music in the Kitchen.  I've posted this playlist on iTunes for your listening pleasure.

A Bird for Andrew Bird

As you've read here before, music is a big part of my life.  I couldn't imagine cooking without it.

But as far as creating dishes at home, I'll take inspiration wherever I can get it.  Certainly cooking shows, books, blogs and restaurants are obvious sources of stimuli.  But sometimes I find ideas in unexpected places.

I recently went to see one of my favorite musicians, Andrew Bird.  His last album has been at the top of my iTunes playlists for over a year and was very excited to see him in concert for the first time recently.  If you don't know about Andrew Bird (listen here), he plays pretty much every instrument on his album, in addition to writing and singing well written, thoughtful lyrics.

Seeing him in concert at Bowery on Jan 17 was an inspiring experience.  Andrew flips between a violin, guitar, glockenspiel and a haunting whistle that adds an amazing depth to many of his songs.  While watching and listening to him at the show, I was totally in awe of his talent. Watching someone so remarkably talented perform an entirely new album (out in March, can't wait!) live with such effortless sincerity and passion was nothing short of inspiring.  While enjoying the show, I couldn't help but wish I pushed myself further and took more chances with my cooking. 

I asked myself a few interesting questions.  Am I drunk? Is that Brookyln Vegan taking those photos? Do I look like that when I go to restaurants? Should I get another beer and doublefist? And, if Andrew Bird were a chef, what kind of dishes would he create?

Well, I'm sure his dishes would be unique, thoughtful and relatively complex.  But I couldn't picture him using science or making foams.  And since he weaves multiple techniques and sounds together as elements that work within a single song,  I started to picture Chef Andrew expressing the same ingredient through multiple cooking techniques on the same plate.  As if transitioning from instrument to instrument, each element on the plate would need to be tied together by a similar flavor.  (I avoided adding music cliches/analogies here, which was very difficult but I hope appreciated).

I went on enjoying the concert but came back to these thoughts the next day.  I would make a dish based on the above ideas, inspired by Andrew Bird.  Now what would be my singular ingredient focus, expressed in a few different ways? Andrew Bird....hmmm.  Right.  Chicken it was.

And the single, uniting element that would tie each preparation of chicken together? I went with chilis.  I'd use a different form of chili within each chicken preparation, in hopes to link each of the chicken dishes together on the plate with a similar flavor.

So, here's an exploration of my Andrew Bird inspired experiment - Chili Chicken Three Ways.

Serrano Honey Chicken Wings - The goal here was to marry earthy, spicy chili flavors with the sweetness of honey.  I covered the chicken wings with an ancho chili powder, olive oil and salt. . While roasting them n the oven for about 25 minutes, I took out my roasted and finely chopped serrano peppers.   I removed the wings from the oven, dotted them with the roasted serrano and drizzled the wings with honey.  I roasted them for another 25 minutes until crusty and caramelized.  These wings were phenomenal. 

Cocoa Chili Crusted Chicken Breast - I brined the on-the-bone chicken breasts overnight.  After drying them very well, I covered them in a coating of 1/2 part bittersweet chocolate and 1/2 part ancho chili powder, salt, pepper and nutmeg. I seared the breasts in olive oil for only two minutes each side, then let them slow roast in the oven.  The brine is essential to ensure for a juicy chicken.  The crust of cocoa and chili added an earthiness that worked well with the other flavors on the plate. 

Coconut Water, Chipotle Braised Chicken - I seared chicken legs and thighs, then added some lemongrass, garlic and onions to the pan and covered the chicken with Zico coconut water and some chipotle and adobo sauce, and a splash of red wine.   I chose coconut water as I wanted the flavor without the richness, which worked well.  The sweetness of the Zico was balanced by the heat of the chipotle.  After braising for an hour and a half, I stripped the chicken into large pieces and reduced the braising liquid by 3/4 for use as a sauce. 

Finally, I added a few garnishes to the plate as a means to transition from one chicken dish to the other.  I dusted some red bliss potato wedges with the ancho chili powder, salt, pepper and olive oil and roasted them for 45 minutes until tender. I placed these wedges between the wings and the chicken breast.  I also poached some shitake mushrooms for about 20 minutes in the chipotle braising liquid, which I placed between the breast and the braised chicken.

All in all, a fun, creative experiment inspired by an unlikely source.

Andrew Bird photo via Brooklyn Vegan.

Music in the Kitchen: January 2007

A new year requires new music in the kitchen.   For those of you who don't remember, Music in the Kitchen is a sporadic series in which I share some of my favorite songs that I've recently been listening to while cooking at home.

Confession: I have an iTunes playlist created for most occasions.

Confession:  I continue to have a burning desire to make a mix tape.  Yep.  A tape.

Confession:  I tried to play Dissident by Pearl Jam at a local hipsterbar jukebox and the bartender or owner saw it on the cue and deleted it.   This one's for you, pretentious music snot!

Confession:  While I like artisanal cheese, I also like November Rain cheese.  Seriously, this is a great song to cook to.

Confession:  I have been playing The Hold Steady album, Boys and Girls of America, on repeat.  Until I got the latest Thermals album, The body the blood the machine.  Just bought tickets to see them at Bowery as well.  Can't wait.

Confession:  Yes, that Royksopp song down there is from the the Geico caveman ad.   Yes, I love it.

For those of you interested, I post all of my Music in the Kitchen posts on iTunes as an iMix.  Here's the January 2007 edition.  Rock on.

Music in the Kitchen: October 2006

I haven't posted a Music in the Kitchen for a while, but I've had a few recent requests for a new cooking mix, so here you go. 

If you've forgotten, I occasionally post a few of my favorite songs that I like to listen to while cooking many of the dishes you see on this site. I'm more of a rocker, so most of my favorite cooking music tends to be relatively high energy.  For those of you interested, I post all of my Music in the Kitchen mixes on iTunes as an iMix.  Here's the October 2006 mix on iTunes.  Enjoy!

Music in the Kitchen: February, 2006

Music plays one of the most important roles in my cooking because it gets me into the kitchen.  And it keeps me there - singing, playing air drums, and generally keeping me full of positive energy.

I occasionally publish mixes consisting of 15 songs that I like to listen to while cooking, which I file under the Music in the Kitchen category on this site.  These aren't always going to be full of fresh new releases - they'll simply be what I consider great cooking music.  For those interested, I publish these tracks on iTunes as an iMix. Here's the link to the February mix. Enjoy.

 

Music in the Kitchen: December 2005

Cooking is all about the intangibles.  What the hell does that mean? Well, to me it means feeling like cooking is fun.  And inspirational. Music plays one of the most important roles in my cooking because it gets me into the kitchen.  And it keeps me there - singing, playing air drums, and generally keeping me full of positive energy.

So each month I will publish 15 of my favorite songs for the kitchen.  These aren't always going to be full of fresh new releases - they'll simply be what I consider great cooking music.  All suggestions and recommendations are welcome.  For those interested, I will publish these Music in the Kitchen lists on iTunes as an iMix.  Here's this month's list.  Enjoy.  (Special thanks to Heather for helping me make this list look less like a high school project. Typepad blows!).