TasteFood

Spring Rolls in Copenhagen

Rule of thumb: When traveling to far flung destinations, eat as the locals do. 

This has merit for several reasons.  First - and clearly stating the obvious - if you are in Italy, for goodness' sake, eat Italian.  This is, after all, where you will find the authentic real deal.  Second, when far off the beaten path (for instance, the garden route along the south coast of South Africa circa mid-90's) steer clear of restaurant establishments that offer such delicacies as Authentic Tex-Mex! or Authentic Japanese Sushi!  Same principal yet the inverse: this is far from authentic and far from the real deal.  And, if you do find yourself far from home, hungry and homesick for a taste of your favorite neighborhood cuisine and succumb to the temptation, beware that, most likely, you will be supremely disappointed.

This raises an interesting challenge of living abroad.  Some of the wonderful aspects of the expatriate lifestyle are living in another culture, tasting the local food, celebrating the different traditions.  For all the experiences and pleasures, however, there can be moments when you simply crave the ribs from Redbones, the tacos from Olé Grill or the dim sum from China Pearl  - your old favorite haunts, thousands of miles away and sadly ignorant of your self-imposed exile.  As an American growing up in Boston, I had the privilege of instant access to delicious, authentic ethnic cuisines.  When I moved to Europe in the early 90's, the prospect of finding fresh sushi or authentic Mexican food in Geneva or Copenhagen was daunting and disappointing.  I quickly learned that the best way to get the results I craved was to make it myself (there has been a steep learning curve.) 

 

Here is a recipe for Rice Paper Spring Rolls that I learned to make to satisfy my craving for fresh, light, Asian-inspired food.  I included in it in a menu for one of my cooking classes in Copenhagen, and it was a hit, partly because it was different.  Remember that the key to a good roll is to have a balance of sweet, savory, heat and salt in the ingredients and to combine a variety of textures for a satisfying bite.  Be sure to prepare all the ingredients in advance, so that when you are ready to assemble the rolls, everything is in place.

Rice Paper Spring Rolls with Shrimp and Chili Peanut Sauce
Makes 8

3 oz. vermicelli rice noodles
2 tablespoons rice vinegar
2 teaspoons sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
8 (eight inch) rice paper rounds
4 Boston lettuce leaves, ribs removed, halved
1 cup shredded carrot
1 bunch coriander leaves, about 1 cup
1 bunch mint leaves, about 1 cup
1 english cucumber, peeled, seeded, cut in matchsticks
4 scallions, cut length-wise in julienne strips
1 serrano chile, stemmed, seeded, cut in julienne
15 medium cooked shrimp, peeled, halved horizontally

Chili Peanut Sauce for dipping

Place noodles in a wide bowl.  Pour hot water over to cover. Let stand 15 minutes.  Drain well in a colander.  Toss with sugar and salt.
While the noodles are soaking, prepare all of the ingredients, so that the spring rolls are ready to assemble.
Pour warm water into a shallow pan.  Immerse one rice paper round in water until pliable, about 30 seconds.  Remove and spread on a plastic cutting board.  Blot dry with a towel.
Arrange a lettuce leaf half over the bottom half of the rice paper round, taking care to leave a 1" border along the edge.
Top lettuce with 1/4 cup rice noodles, arranging them horizontally over. 
Top noodles with a line of shredded carrot, coriander and mint leaves, cucumber, scallions and chile.
Fold bottom of rice paper over filling and begin to roll up tightly.  At halfway point arrange 3 shrimp halves horizontally over the crease, then fold in the ends and continue rolling.
Transfer roll, seam-side down to a plate and cover with damp towel.  Repeat with remaining rolls.  (Adjust ingredient amounts to taste and to ensure the roll is plump and full, while still allowing it to be folded in and sealed.)
Spring rolls can be made 4 hours in advance.  Cover with damp paper towels and plastic wrap and refrigerate.  Serve with Chili Peanut Sauce.

Chili Peanut Sauce

2 garlic cloves, minced
3 tablespoons creamy peanut butter
2 tablespoons water
1 tablespoon soy sauce
1 tablespoon fresh lime juice
2 teaspoons sweet chili sauce

In a small bowl, whisk together all ingredients.  Set aside.  Can be made one day in advance.

Tip: If you have left over filling ingredients and sauce, try tossing them together in a bowl for a light Asian Rice Noodle Salad with Chili Peanut Dressing.  It works!

Blueberry Tart

It is impossible to resist the abundant blueberries at this time of year.  Today I came home from the market with 2 pounds of fresh blueberries.  Well, actually I came home with 1 1/2 pounds, because I couldn't stop nibbling them along the way.  Upon arrival, my children consumed at least another half pound before I rescued the remainder, which is exactly what I needed to go in my blueberry tart.

Bluberry Tart
Serves 6-8

For the Pâte Sucrée or Tart Pastry:
1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1/4 cup sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 lb. unsalted butter
2 large egg yolks, lightly beaten

In a medium bowl, combine flour, sugar, salt.  Cut butter in pieces into the flour mixture until the largest pieces resemble the size of peas.  Add the egg yolks and mix lightly with fingertips to incorporate and the dough is crumbly.  Press the dough evenly into the bottom and up the sides of a 9" tart pan with a removable bottom.  Wrap in plastic and refrigerate at least 2 hours or overnight.

Prebake tart shell:
Preheat oven to 400 F.  Prick bottom all over with a fork.  Line the bottom with parchment paper.  Fill liner with dried beans or pie weights.  Bake shell for 15 minutes, or until the edges begin to turn golden.  Remove shell from oven.  Remove parchment and pie weights.  Return shell to oven and cook 10 minutes, or until golden all over.  Remove and cool.

For the filling:
1 lb. blueberries, picked over, washed, dried
1/2 cup granulated sugar
2 tablespoons water
2 tablespoons cornstarch
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice

In a medium saucepan, combine 1/2 lb. blueberries, sugar and 1 tablespoon water.  Bring to a boil.
Meanwhile, in a small bowl, whisk together 1 tablespoon water and cornstarch.  Set aside.
When blueberries reach a boil, reduce heat and simmer, stirring, until blueberries pop and mixture begins to thicken - about 3 minutes.
Add cornstarch mixture and lemon juice to thickened blueberries, stirring constantly.  Simmer 30 seconds, stirring constantly.  Fold in remaining blueberries.  Pour into pre-baked tart shell.  Let sit at room temperature until set, at least 1 hour.  Serve with whipped cream or crème fraiche.

To Induct or Not to Induct - 18 Years of Cooktops

You would not believe the variety of kitchens I have used in the last 18 years.  I have lived in 8 different homes in 5 different countries since 1990 and have been exposed to a catalog of kitchen styles and appliances.

The first kitchen I had was when I moved to Paris and rented a tiny apartment in the 18th arrondissement while I attended Le Cordon Bleu Ecole de Cuisine. The kitchen was more of a kitchenette and had a dormitory-sized refrigerator and a hotplate as a cooktop, which I rarely used.  To be honest, I was so tired of cooking and tasting all day at school, that by the time I came home the last thing I felt like doing was cooking more food. Besides, if a meal was to be had, there were too many restaurants to explore in the city, and I was on a mission to try as many as possible.  

My first house in Geneva had another tiny kitchen.  It was the size of a closet and had a galley of efficiency appliances with a postage stamp-sized work surface along one wall.  There was just enough space left for a tiny bistro table and 2 café chairs, where I would eat with my boyfriend.  Despite the size, I adjusted and found the efficiency refreshing.  I could literally stand in one place, pivoting left and right, and everything was at my fingertips.  I entertained regularly out of that kitchen and even catered a few dinner parties, while borrowing surface space from the living room around the corner as necessary.  It worked, but I suspect it would be difficult to go back to at this time.

There were several other homes along the way, while I lived for 8 more years in the Geneva countryside before moving to England for 3 years.  Most of our homes were at least 100 years old with lots of character, yet blessed with modern kitchen conveniences and European appliances.  We rented a few, so accepted the varying styles and finishes that came with the rent, and for those we purchased, we tweaked to our taste and learned to use a whole new set of appliances.  

Summer Pasta Provençal

What is it about summer holiday?  I had visions of lazy, sultry, unscheduled down-time where the days would stretch out, tantalizing us with infinite possibilities.  Our only resposibilities would be remembering the sunblock and planning our dinner, while we read books, relaxed in the sun, and watched the hummingbirds hover in our garden.  Apparently, we are not on holiday yet.  Since the children were let out of school last month the days seem to have accelerated in a blur.  There is little time to laze, attempt sultriness or admire hummingbirds.  Sunscreen is haphazardly remembered and wisely applied immediately after breakfast otherwise risking delinquency.  The days evolve into a series of carpooling forays and playdate arrangements, punctuated by uncomfortably frequent stops at the gas station.  Dinnertime arrives unexpectedly in a whiplash fashion, and I realize I never made it to the market, let alone had a moment to serenely mull over a creation to present at the kitchen table.   Is this the summer holiday?  What was I thinking?

This afternoon I returned home from a long day as described above.  I did not shop, and we were all hungry.  In fact, the only full family member was our recently filled car's gas tank (which seems to be eating more these days) and we opted to eat in tonight.  So, I will prepare an easy pasta salad dish that makes use of the vegetables, cheese, and olives I have stashed in my refrigerator.  This recipe is forgiving in its ingredients and it encourages fiddling and adjusting depending on what you have available.*  Because of its versatility, its name is rather generic: I simply call it Summer Pasta Provençal, because its ingredients reflect the season, and the ease of preparation reflects our crazy summer schedule.

Summer Pasta Provençal
Serves 4-6

1 lb. (500 grams) farfalle

3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 red pepper, stemmed, seeded, ribs removed, sliced in julienne
2 cups small cherry tomatoes, halved
1 cup kalamata olives, pitted, halved
2 fresh mozzarellas
1/4 cup grated Pecorino Romano cheese
1 teaspoon balsamic vinegar
1 garlic clove, minced

1 bunch, about 1/2 cup, fresh basil leaves, shredded
Grated Parmigiano-Reggiano or Pecorino Romano cheese as garnish

Bring a pot of salted water to boil.  Add pasta and cook until al dente.  Drain. 
Pour pasta into a large serving bowl.  Toss with 1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil.
Add remaining ingredients and toss to combine well.  Adjust seasoning to taste.
Serve warm or at room temperature with grated cheese on the side.

*Experiment with ingredients you have in your refrigerator.  Try substituting grilled eggplant or zucchini, roasted sweet peppers, olivada, parsley, or arugula.   

Dessert for 30

What do you do when you have a small dinner party planned, and, suddenly, it takes on a life of its own and doubles in size?  When your vision of an intimate evening of food and wine shared with a few friends, becomes an exponential math exercise as your gathering grows - and grows?  In our home, where the motto "the more the merrier" is put into action more often than not (I look only at myself regarding this pattern), it helps to have a few tricks up your sleeve.   

First and foremost, do not panic.  Second, if you had inspired ambitions of executing an intricate, multi-coursed, hands-on menu with expensive ingredients, you might want to file it for a later date.  The key is to keep things simple, get organized and create a menu that enables significant advance preparation. Typically, I am cooking as much, if not more, the day before a party.  Many dishes can sit 24 hours, and some actually improve with sitting.  Meats can (and often should) marinate overnight.  Dips, sauces, dressings, and some cold salads can be prepared a day in advance.  (Fresh greens and herbs can be added at the last minute, as these can morph into less vibrant versions of themselves after a day in the refrigerator.)  Set the table the night before.  And, by all means, choose a dessert that can be made at least one day in advance.

I have several fall-back party desserts that I rely on to feed a crowd and can be made in advance.  One of my favorites is chocolate mousse.  It is elegant, simple, versatile and a crowd-pleaser.  I like to prepare the mousse with 70% dark chocolate, which makes for a denser, more intense mousse.  Its richness begs for smaller portions which makes it easy to spread out among extra guests. It can be simple and plain for a casual event, or dressed up with a liqueur, such as Cointreau or Framboise, for a fancier event.  In the summertime, I add raspberries and cream to showcase the berry season, while in the winter some candied orange peel adds a festive touch.   Choose a creative way to present the mousse; I use small glass votives that showcase the mousse and its garnishes.  30 glasses can fill a tray which makes a wonderful presentation as it's passed around.

Chocolate Mousse with Raspberries and Cream
Makes 16 small (or 8 generous) servings

For the chocolate mousse:
2 cups (500 ml.) heavy cream
4 large egg yolks
1/4 cup (50 grams) sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
7 oz. (200 grams) 70% dark chocolate

For the raspberry coulis:
3/4 lb. (300 grams) fresh raspberries
2 tablespoons sugar

For the whipped cream:
2 cups (500 ml.) heavy cream
2 tablespoons sifted powder sugar
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

Fresh raspberries
Grated chocolate

Make the chocolate mousse:
Heat 3/4 cup (180 ml.) cream in a heavy saucepan until hot; do not bring to a boil. 
Whisk the egg yolks and sugar in a metal bowl.  Add the hot cream in a steady stream, whisking to combine.  Pour the mixture back into saucepan and cook over medium-low heat, stirring constantly with a wooden spoon, until mixture thickly coats the back of a wooden spoon. 
Strain mixture through a fine-meshed sieve.  Stir in vanilla.
Melt chocolate in a double boiler, stirring frequently. 
Whisk custard into the chocolate until smooth.  Cool.
Beat remaining 1 1/4 cup (320 ml.) heavy cream in a bowl with an electric mixer until stiff peaks form.
Stir 1/4 of the whipped cream into the chocolate mixture.  Fold remaining whipped cream in gently until combined.
Spoon mousse into serving glasses or bowls.  Chill, covered, at least 6 hours.  (Can be made one day in advance.)

Make the raspberry coulis:
Combine raspberries and sugar in a heavy saucepan.  Heat over medium-low heat, stirring and mashing raspberries with a fork, until sugar dissolves.  Transfer to a bowl; cool.  (Raspberry coulis can be made one day in advance.)

Make the whipped cream:
Beat whipped cream in a bowl with an electric mixer until thickened and traces from mixer can be seen.  Add sugar and vanilla.  Continue to beat until soft peaks form.  (Can be made 3 hours in advance; refrigerate covered until needed.)

To serve:
Spoon a small layer of raspberry coulis over mousse.  Spread evenly to cover mousse. Top with a dollop of whipped cream.  Garnish with a raspberry and grated chocolate. 

Red White and Blueberries

A celebration of summer and independence are two good reasons to throw a party, and the fourth of July is perfectly timed to take advantage of the season's fresh berries. Fireworks and barbecues are de rigueur as skies and grills light up across America. With a nod to the colors of the American flag, this traditional dessert is fresh and festive, making use of an abundance of summer berries while stirring up nostalgic memories of easy summer living.

Strawberry and Blueberry Shortcakes
Serves 6

For the biscuits:
2 cups all-purpose flour
5 tablespoons sugar
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 cup chilled, unsalted butter, cut in small pieces
1 cup buttermilk

For the berries:
1 lb. strawberries, hulled and halved
12 oz. blueberries
3 tablespoons sugar
1 tablespoon fresh mint leaves, chopped
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
1 teaspoon lemon zest

For the whipped cream:
1 cup whipping cream
2 teaspoons sugar
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

Prepare the biscuits:
Preheat oven to 400 F.  In a large bowl sift together the flour, 4 tablespoons sugar, baking powder, baking soda and salt. Mix in the butter with fingertips until mixture resembles coarse meal. Add buttermilk and stir until sticky dough forms. Drop dough in mounds on ungreased baking sheet.  Sprinkle with 1 tablespoon sugar. Bake until golden, about 20 minutes. Cool 15 minutes.

Prepare the fruit:
While the biscuits bake, combine strawberries, blueberries, sugar, mint, lemon juice and zest in a bowl. Toss to coat. Let stand 30 minutes (can be prepared 2 hours ahead.)

For the whipped cream:
In a bowl of an electric mixer beat cream until traces of the beater appear. Add sugar and vanilla extract. Beat until soft peaks form, taking care not to overbeat.
To assemble shortcakes, cut each biscuit in half and arrange bottom half on individual serving plates. Spoon berries with juices over and top with whipped cream. Arrange biscuit top over cream.
Serve garnished with fresh mint leaves.

 

Playing with My Food

This morning I brought home my usual overstuffed shopping basket from the farmer's market.  It tumbled over with relief when I placed it down on the kitchen counter, and a few eager ingredients escaped the crowd and rolled before me.  These included some sweetly perfumed white nectarines, a floppy bunch of intoxicatingly aromatic mint, and a snow-white fennel bulb crowned with frizzy green fronds.  As I reached for them I stopped and thought: What a wonderful combination of color, texture and fresh flavor.  The leaves of mint were enormous, begging to be left intact.  Obligingly, I gathered one and cupped the leaf realizing it would make a perfect vessel.  I sliced the nectarine thinly and did likewise with the fennel, reserving its dill-like tips as garnish.  I imagined the crunchy, juicy, fresh and bright textures and taste. Now to balance this combo, a little salt and a little bite were needed.  I knew exactly what to dig for in my cheese drawer: a chunk of Pecorino Romano Pepato I had purchased the previous week at my favorite Italian specialty store.  If you do not know this fantastic cheese it is a Pecorino Romano studded with whole black peppercorns.  The combination of the salty sheep cheese and the sharp bite of black peppercorn is addictive.  I shaved a few slivers off, collected any wayward black peppercorns and combined them with the other ingredients cupped in the mint leaf.  To pull it together, I reached for a lemon on my window ledge and cut a wedge of it, squeezing the fresh citrus juice over the mint, followed by a light drizzle of extra-virgin olive oil.  And suddenly I had a perfect summertime amuse-bouche.  If you prefer more substance to your bite, this would go nicely on top of crostini.

More Salt, Please

Not to repeat myself, but once again we are experiencing a heatwave (100 F.)  One of the nicer aspects of our house is that it has lovely floor-to-ceiling glass windows and skylights - everywhere.  Coming from the dark of Scandinavia this was a huge plus.  Lots of light and sunshine all the time, California-style.  Well, right now I feel as though I am living in a microwave.  And suddenly, shady rooms, cooler temperatures and even cloudy skies seem very appealing.

When it gets this hot I crave salt.  In any form.  In fact, if there were a salt tablet lying about I would consider sucking it.  Foods I survive on in this heat are olives, sliced tomato with sea salt, more olives, the occasional potato chip and more olives.  I keep a bowl of sea salt out on the kitchen counter and every time I pass the bowl I grab a flake or two and pop them in my mouth.   My favorite sea salt is Maldon, an English sea salt that has a wonderful mellow flavor and packs the right salty punch. 

This olivada recipe I share with you is a long time favorite that I have made for many years.  You can try fiddling with the combination of olives to your taste*. I use three kinds, and have adapted them as we have moved from country to country and available ingredients have varied.  It is something that can be prepared and kept in the refrigerator for up to 4 days.  After the fourth day (if there is any left) toss the left-overs with freshly cooked pasta, chopped tomatoes, fresh basil leaves and buffalo mozzarella for a delicious room-temperature pasta salad.

Olivada
Makes about 3 cups

1 can or jar pitted green olives, drained
1 can or jar pitted black olives, drained
1 jar Provençal-style olives, pitted (these are the very black, wrinkled olives, often tossed with herbes de provence.)
1/2 cup pine nuts, toasted golden brown
2-3 garlic cloves
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
Freshly ground black pepper, to taste

Place all of the ingredients in bowl of a food processor.  Pulse until well chopped. 
(Try not to over-mix or the olivada will be too mushy.) 
Transfer to a bowl and refrigerate at least one hour. 
Serve with sliced baguette or crostini.
Olivada will keep up to 4 days in the refrigerator.

*As you experiment with different olives, adjust for a mixture of mild, sharp, bitter and salt to give an overall balanced flavor to the olivada.

Summer Solstice NOMA-Style

Last summer we were in Denmark visiting friends and family during the solstice.  Miraculously, we managed to get a coveted dinner reservation at the acclaimed Copenhagen restaurant NOMA, and realized that our luck was only due to the general population out partying in traditional solstice-style on beaches before bonfires rather than in restaurants.  Seizing our opportunity, we invited our Danish friends and hosts (who were more than happy to abandon tradition for NOMA) to join us. 

That evening, we dined on a fabulous prix-fixe menu consisting of 7 courses composed exclusively of ingredients hailing from Nordic countries.  (NOMA is an acronym for Nordisk Mad - or Nordic Food in Danish.)  A visit to this restaurant is highly recommended if you are in Copenhagen, although advance reservations are a must. It is a fantastic collaboration between Danish celebrity chefs Claus Meyer and René Redzepi.  All ingredients originate from Denmark, Sweden, Norway, Iceland, Greenland and the Faroe Islands.  They run from the familiar to the exotic: eel, musk ox, green strawberries, hare, seaweed, rye bread, black lobster are a few examples (quite out of context.)  You may feast on dishes such as Sautéed Dover Sole with New Danish Potatoes, Green Strawberries and Elderberry Sauce perhaps accompanied by Stirred Mashed Potatoes with Lumpfish Roe and Crispy Chicken Skin, and finish with Caramel Ice Cream with Icelandic Buttermilk, Dried Swedish Berries and Sorrel Crème Anglaise. 

I enjoy poring over the NOMA Nordic Cuisine cookbook, which I bought as a memento after our meal. It is an inspirational and unique testament to Nordic terroir, and apropos several interesting blogs that attempt to prepare every single recipe in a particular tome of a cookbook, I would seriously have a go at reproducing NOMA's - if only I could get my hands on chickweed, seakale and sweet cicely.  For now, I do what I always do and improvise with the seasonal and local products I find in my part of the world.   

As we drove home after our long dinner, it was approaching midnight.  To the west the sun had just set and exited the sky in a swirl of orange and purple flourishes in its haste to rise again. To the east it was doing just that, where the sky was brightening and soft pink tinges nudged the gray-blue midnight summer sky.  It was truly a magical Danish solstice moment. 

Summer Solstice Danish-Style

Denmark is the land of the (nearly) midnight sun. The sun sets just before 11:00 in the evening, only to begin its ascent again in the wee hours of the morning. In a land where the winters are long and very dark, it is no wonder that celebrations, and even a God or two, have been delegated to give thanks and perhaps curry favor with the fiery powers that be. Summer Solstice, or Sankt Hans Aften (which means the eve of St. John the Baptist Day), is the height of these jubilations, as it celebrates the longest day of the year. Bonfires are lit, and food and drink are plentiful, as the Vikings of yesteryear, and in spirit, party and feast until dawn.

This year we will attempt our own celebration on a nearby beach.  We will light a bonfire and have a picnic dinner as the sun sets.  It is likely that we will forego the authentic tradition of burning an effigy over the fire, as that may not go over too well with the local residents and could quite possibly get us arrested.  (Proper solstice tradition would have a straw witch burned over the fire.  This symbolizes the riddance of problems, worries, and threats from people's lives.)

Food typically associated with the solstice celebration is simple picnic fare: grilled fish or meat, fresh boiled local crayfish (which can be a party unto itself) and remoulade sauce, potato salad, green salad.  All of this would be accompanied, Viking-style, by beer, snaps and wine throughout the evening.

For dessert, something making use of the fleeting yet prolific Danish strawberry season would be appropriate and always welcome. 

Strawberry Rhubarb Crisp
Serves 8-10

For the topping:
1 1/2 cups flour
1/2 cup brown sugar
1/4 cup granulated sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
12 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut in small cubes

Mix the flour, sugar, salt and cinnamon together in a bowl.  Cut in the butter, and work it with your fingers until the mixture resembles coarse meal.  Refrigerate until use. 

For the fruit:
4 large or 6 small rhubarb stalks, washed and sliced 1/2" thick
2 lbs. strawberries, stemmed and cut in half
1/4 cup sugar

Preheat oven to 350 F.
In a large bowl, toss rhubarb, strawberries and sugar gently to combine.
Arrange evenly in a rectangular baking dish.
Cover the fruit with topping.
Bake in oven until rhubarb is tender and the topping is golden brown, about 45 minutes.

Serve warm or at room temperature with whipped cream or vanilla ice cream.