Restaurant Widow

The Ultimate Spring Lunch

Oh, I just love this time of year.  Yesterday, I ate an entire pound of asparagus.  No joke.  I bought it on Saturday at Wishwell Farms at the North Market and ate it all in about one sitting.  If there's one thing I love the most, and must eat as soon as the local asparagus comes in, it is asparagus with a fried egg on top.  Add some toast & morels and for the love of crumb cake, it's delicious. 

I loved a comment I received on my "Monk Cheeks & Morels on Toast" - someone wrote "things on toast is one of my favorite food groups!"  I concur!

Morels have fluctuated in price this year, and the local morels are finally available.  Today's morels came from Hocking and other Ohio counties, and were purchased at Weiland's for $55 a pound.  I bought $8 worth and it was the perfect amount for one.  They only come around once a year, after all. 

This lunch comes together in a few easy steps - it probably takes about 15 minutes total.  It would make a great appetizer, as well.

Asparagus & Morels on Toast with Fried Eggs - serves 1

Nice large slice of sourdough bread
1/2 pound asparagus
olive oil
salt & pepper
1 tbsp butter
small bunch of chives, chopped into thin batons
large handful morel mushrooms or another flavorful mushroom such as shitake, washed in several changes of water until the water is bug-free
1 tbsp white wine
2 delicious eggs - I used 2 Silo eggs; one special dark, and one americaura (also purchased from Weiland's; they come in a great magenta egg carton; they'll be available soon at the Clintonville Farmer's Market)

Preheat oven to 495 degrees.  Toast the bread and set aside.  Snap the woody ends off the asparagus and place the spears in a baking pan and drizzle with good extra virgin olive, then sprinkle with salt and pepper.  Toss with tongs to coat and roast for about 10-15 minutes, or until browned and slightly softened.  In the meantime, melt the butter and a pinch of olive oil over medium high heat in a small saute pan.  Add the morels and toss to coat; add the wine and half of the chives and cook over high heat until the wine has reduced and there is very little liquid left in the pan.  Heat a small nonstick pan over medium-high heat and fry the eggs a few minutes on one side and flip, cooking to desired doneness.  The runny yolks will make a lovely sauce which will combine with the asparagus and morel juices and make the toast savory and delicious.

Assemble: place the toast on a plate and drizzle with good extra virgin olive oil and sprinkle with salt.  Top with a layer of asparagus, then the fried eggs, and then top with the morels.  Garnish with the remaining chives.  Heaven.  Spring heaven on a plate.

Morels & Monk Cheeks on Toast

Ah, Spring.  On Monday Husband & I celebrated by sewing grass seed (blech), weeding (blech), and grilling for the first time!  YAY!  I love the first grilling of the season.  I had to race to Weiland's to make sure I got a bag of real charcoal.  Seriously, nothing is better than real charcoal.  It makes everything so delicious.  Whilst at Weiland's, I was standing at the fish counter, trying to find something I might be able to grill.  Alas, Copper River Salmon was $37 a pound.  So I started thinking maybe we'd just have some seafood for an appetizer. 

And my eyes landed on Monk Fish Cheeks!  Now, I am quite a fan of cheeks - I've written about halibut cheeks before, so I won't go on and on about how you should eat cheeks.  Suffice it to say that cheeks are delicious.  And I love monkfish. But I've never had monk cheeks before.  I wasn't even aware there were cheeks on a monkfish.

I think I might have said before that monk fish is a great starter fish if you are nervous about cooking fish.  It isn't really thin and flaky, so it won't fall apart when you try to turn it, it withstands overcooking pretty well, and it has a mild, sweet flavor and aroma, so it won't stink up your kitchen.

You could make this recipe with a regular monkfish filet, but you might want to slice it into medallions before cooking, to keep everything small. 

The toast isn't necessary here, but I've been baking a lot of bread yesterday and we made grilled bread with olive oil, so we just topped it with the saute; it is nice because the toast sucks up all of the butter morel-y goodness and is very tasty to eat after the topping are gone.

This would be especially delicious with fresh chive flowers, as soon as they arrive in farmer's markets!

Monkfish Cheeks & Morels on Toast - serves 4 as an appetizer

1/4 pound Morel mushrooms, or other flavorful mushroom such as shitake or maitake
4 monkfish cheeks, or halibut cheeks, or 1 8 ounce monkfish filet
6 tbsp butter, cut into 1/2 tbsp chunks
Olive oil
Salt & Pepper
3/4 cup white wine
1 tbsp lemon juice

Here's a little lesson about morels: they contain a lot of bugs.  And sometimes worms.  Just be forewarned.  If you are given to fits of formication, you might want to ask a loved one to cut the mushrooms for you.  When I put the morels onto a plate to photographed, I looked away and when I returned to them about 2 minutes later, the plate had about 30 tiny little jumping bugs on it *shiver*.  But it's okay.  Slice each morel in half lengthwise and place them in a colander in a bowl.  Fill with water and drain.  Repeat until the water is clean and bug-free (it might take up to 10 rinsings).  Forget all that nonsense about the mushrooms retaining water.  You are going to use them immediately and the water is going to cook out anyway.

When the morels are clean, trim off the root end.  Bring a nonstick pan to medium heat and add 1 tbsp butter and a bit of olive oil.  Add the mushrooms, sprinkle with salt and pepper, and toss to brown lightly.  If they give off any water, turn the heat up to high and saute until the water has evaporated.  Remove them to a bowl and set aside.

Pat the monkfish cheeks dry with paper towels and sprinkle with salt and pepper.  Heat a nonstick pan over medium-high heat and add 2 tbsp butter and a little olive oil.  When the butter has melted, carefully add the cheeks (they should sizzle).  Cook for 2 minutes on each side, or until they are nicely browned.  Add the white wine and cook until it has reduced to about 1/3 cup liquid.  At this point, the cheeks should be done; they should be firm to the touch.  You can check the doneness by inserting a sharp paring knife into the center; hold if for a second and then remove and touch the knife to your tongue or lip (carefully!) if it is hot, the fish is done (now you know a secret kitchen secret!!).  Remove the cheeks to a plate and add the remaining butter to the white wine in the pan; stir lightly with a whisk and then add the lemon juice.  Add the cheeks and morels back to the pan and toss to coat.  Serve over toast, drizzling with any leftover sauce.

Congratulations: you've made a delicious appetizer and learned how to make a pan sauce!  Woot!

Bay Scallops Rockefeller - or Something

I am such a sucker for packaging.  Seriously.  It's pathetic.  A few years ago, the wine snob world was scandalized when a report came out suggesting people remembered a specific wine much better if there were a picture of an animal on the label, or if the name of the wine contained an animal (this isn't the original article, but talks about a similar theme.  I have to admit: I am that person.  It's not just animals, mind you, but whenever Husband says "you've had that wine," and I can't remember, I ask what is pictured on the label.  I just love a whimsical picture such as a bird in hand (Finca Sandoval) - it's worth twice as much as a bird in - oh, never mind.  And just for the record, a cute name goes a long way, too.  The other day, a wine rep had visited Husband and left a printout of all the wines they had tasted.  One was called Lady Bug.  "How was the Lady Bug?!  Did you order it?"  So, I'll admit it: I'm a self-loathing packaging whooer.  Ah well.  Now all of you wine reps know how to get to Husband (or at least try.  It doesn't really work that well; he just rolls his eyes at me).  I will say that, knowing this about myself, I usually do steer clear of these cutesy labels, I know they're almost always going to be bad.  I remember at a portfolio tasting a few years ago, the people from Barefoot Cellars poured me a taste of their sparkling wine, and I nearly did a spit-take in their faces, it was so horridly undrinkable.  And yet, peopler buy it, because it has a footprint on the label.

And so it is that I found myself in Weiland's today, standing at the fish counter, when I knew we had a perfectly good skirt steak at home for dinner, drooling over bay scallops, still in the shell:

Seriously, who could resist these guys?  Now, these are bay scallops - tiny little guys.  For this reason, I would only recommend buying them in the shells if you are planning to serve them on the shell.  If you are going to, say, make scallop ceviche or something, then by all means, buy them out of the shell.  But if you're feeling adventurous, are having a dinner party, or, like me, are simply seduced by pretty things, then buy them in the shell.  While I'm at it, please visit a reputable fishmonger, and ask questions.  I aked a few questions about these scallops and the guy at Weiland's happily showed me how to shuck them and gave me some ideas about how to cook them.  He did the same thing for the woman in line after me.  Any good fishmonger should happily do the same.

I decided to make these in a Rockefeller style - I bought arugula and bacon yesterday and the market, afterall, so it seemed only natural.  Why the strikeout?  Well, I thought it was in the Rockefeller style, but after googling the Rockefeller recipe, I realize the two aren't even close.  So we'll just call these, Scallops Waitress.  Working class scallops - they don't have any butter, so they aren't "rich enough for a Rockefeller."  Sound good to me.

Scallops Waitress - for 8 bay scallops

8 bay scallops in the shell
juice of 1/2 lemon
2 strips bacon, cut into very small cubes
1 medium shallot, cut into small dice
2 cloves garlic, smushed with garlic press
1 large handful arugula
salt & pepper
two slices white bread, crusts removed, torn into chunks, and processed into fine crumbs in food processor (or 1/4 cup panko bread crumbs)
olive oil
freshly grated Parmesan cheese, about 1/2 cup

Cook the bacon in a large, nonstick pan over medium heat until crisp, then remove to paper towels.  Drain most of the fat off the pan and add the shallots; sweat for about 5 minutes, or until soft, then add the garlic and turn the heat to low.  Cook for about 10 minutes, or until the garlic smells sweet.  Add the arugula, sprinkle with salt and pepper, and toss everything as it wilts.  Add the bacon back into the pan, and add about a third of the Parmesan, just to help bind the mixture, and stir as it melts.   Remove the mixture from the pan and set aside.  Wipe the pan with a paper towel and heat it over medium heat; add about 1 tbsp olive oil, and then add the bread crumbs.  Sprinkle with salt and give everything a good stir, to be sure all crumbs are evenly coated in olive oil.  Toss the pan continuously as the crumbs brown - this takes about 4 minutes.  Once they begin to brown, they can go from golden to burnt in a flash, so keep the pan moving.  This also ensures even browning.  When the crumbs are toasted, remove them from the pan and set aside.

Scrub the scallops with a potato brush under cold running water.  Then, take each scallop and pry off the top shell with a thin paring knife or an oyster knife (I couldn't find our oyster knife for the life of me).  Scallops, it turns out, aren't nearly as difficult to pry open as oysters.  They pretty much pop right open.  Clean the scallop by carefully removing the nuggest of scallop from the liver sac.  Rinse with water, and rinse the shell with water.  Pat both dry and set aside as you continue with the rest of the scallops.  Squeeze lemon juice over each scallop and set aside.  Allow to sit for 5 minutes.  The lemon juice serves 2 purposes: it gives the entire snack a little acidity to match the richness of the cheese, bacon and scallop, and it helps denature the proteins in the scallop (aka, cooks the scallop).  This is good because the scallop spends so little time under the broiler that it doesn't really cook all the way by heat alone.  If you are really scared of eating a medium-rare scallop, toss the scallops in a little olive oil in a saute pan for no more than one minute, and then assemble as follows.

Preheat your broiler (if you don't have a broiler, you could use a blowtorch).  Arrange each scallop shell and scallop on a baking sheet and top with about 1 tbsp of the arugula mixture, then top each with a pinch of Parmesan and press bread crumbs over to cover.  Add a pinch more Parmesan (which will help hold the whole thing together).  Place under the broiler for about 2 minutes, rotate the pan, and broil for one more minute - keep the door open and a watchful eye on the scallops, because they will burn in a hearbeat.  Remove when they are nice and golden on top.  Serve immediately.

MMMM Mussels

We are back from Philadelphia!  Thanks for all of your suggestions and helpful hints, and yes, there are two reviews coming, but first, a recipe.  Well, kind of a review and a recipe.  It all started a few years ago, when our friend Scot the Art Professor moved to Columbus from New York.  He lamented the lack of cheap eats in Columbus, and the lack of mussel & fry joints.  He had lived in Philly, too, and was want to wax poetic about the buckets of mussels and fries at the Belgian restaurants sprinkled about the city.  I had never heard of such a thing, but it sounded glorious.  I had sort of forgotten about it until a very nice reader told me to go to Monks whilst in Philly.

We decided to stop by for some Flemish sour ale and a bucket of mussels before continuing on to dinner at another reader-recommended spot.

All in all, a less than stellar experience.  The fries weren't crisp (although served with a tasty, spicy bourbon mayo), the steaming liquid left a little to be desired, and about half of the mussels were sandy and poorly cleaned. 

All of that left me desirous of good mussels.  Mussels are easy as pie, delicious, and best of all, cheap.  Well, compared to other types of seafood.  I bought these mussels for $4 a pound at Weiland's, and the fish counter boy was nice enough to take out all the dead guys.  I only had to discard 3 mussels out of two pounds when I was cleaning them.  Mussels, along with their aromatic steaming liquid, become much more than the sum of their parts when well treated.  There is something so insanely delicious about the leftover liquid, so be sure to have croutons or toast on hand for sopping up.  Under no circumstance should you discard the leftover liquid.  Freeze it, along with any mussels removed from their shells, for a reason which I will share in another post.

Mussels are quite good for you; like most shellfish, they are high in protein and low in fat.  Mussels can be pretty easily sustainably farmed; indeed, they practically farm themselves by clinging to ropes hung below the ocean's surface.  Mussels have low contamination, making them safe for frequent eating, and are considered an "eco best" fish by Oceans Alive.

Okay, so.  You decide you'd like to have mussels for dinner.  As with all seafood, purchase them from a reputable fishmonger (the Fish Guys, Weiland's, Whole Foods come to mind) with high turnover.  Purchase mussels the day you intend to eat them.  When you get them home, pour the mussels into a colander and clean them.  I like to scrub each mussels individually with a potato brush under cold running water, because I think the cleaner the outside of the mussels, the less likely you will get grit and other yucky substances in the finished product.  As you begin scrubbing and rinsing the mussels, they should close.  If they don't close, squeeze them a little, or give them a little tap on the counter.  If they don't close, discard them.  Mussels have bristly "beards" which they use to attach themselves to other mussels, rocks, and farming ropes.  The beard is usually removed before sale, but inevitably there are leftover bits which you can just pull off; I find it's usually helpful to use a towel to help me grip.  Simply pull firmly and the beard will come off. If you aren't going to use them right away, they can spend a few hours in the fridge covered with damp paper towels - but not longer than 4 hours or so!

I served these mussels with toast spread with roasted garlic, and croutons.  I like to use the toast early, and then when most of the mussels are gone, toss a few croutons into the broth at a time and let them soak up the mussely, garlicky goodness.  If you don't wish to use alcohol, use tomato juice, vegetable stock with a pinch of lemon juice, or other flavorful liquid, not just water.  So, after our Monk's experience, we finally had some very tasty, proper mussels.  Not a single gritty mussel in the bunch.  So, Art Professor Friend, consider this an open invitation for some good mussels.  I might even be convinced to make some frites to go along.

Mussels - serves 2-4, depending on how hungry everyone is.

olive oil
1/2 stick (1/4 cup) butter, divided
2 large shallots, chopped into small dice
2 medium leeks, white and light green parts only, cut in half lengthwise, and then cut into 1/8th" half-moons
salt and pepper
4-6 cloves garlic, or more - depending on your love of garlic
1 375ml bottle dry vermouth

Place a large stock pot over medium heat and add a little olive oil - 2 tbsp or so.  Add the shallots and leeks, sprinkle with salt and pepper, and cook for about 5-7 minutes, or until the leeks are soft enough to chew through.  Add 1 tbsp of butter and the garlic, cooking for about 10 minutes, stirring occasionally, until everything is soft and the garlic is cooked.  Turn the heat down a little, if necessary, to avoid burning the garlic.  Because burnt garlic is no good.  Add the dry vermouth and turn the heat up to high.  Bring the mixture to a boil and reduce very slightly - a minute or so.  Tumble the mussels in - I love the sound of mussels crashing together - sprinkle with salt and pepper and place the lid on the pot and steam for 3 minutes.  Remove the lid and add the remaining butter; shake the pan a little bit to incorporate the butter, give everything a good stir for one more minute (for a total cooking time of 4-5 minutes).  The mussels are done when they open - do not overcook them!  They hate that!

Spoon desired amounts of mussels into bowls and ladle some of that yummy liquid over.  Serve with toast and croutons.  Slurp and enjoy.  Yum!

I am::A Shishito Pepper!

A few days ago, I asked if anyone knew what this was.  The answer - a Japanese shishito pepper.  Husband and I discovered these mild peppers last Spring while dining at Kihachi (last picture in the post), and immediately fell in love. 

According to the Japanese Kitchen, these long little peppers (whose name means "Chinese Lion") were introduced into Japan by the Portuguese, and - hot at first - were gradually hybridized throughout the years to be a mild pepper suitable to the Japanese palate.  The peppers are popular in the Spring and Summertime, when they are at their peak, and are typically fried in hot oil or broiled, as we had them at Kihachi.  They can be purchased at Tensuke Market (1167 Old Henderson Road, Columbus (in the Kenny Shopping Center) 614.451.6002) throughout the summer.

Husband and I love to put them on the grill; they make a perky little snack before or with dinner, and are a nice foil to something rich such as steak.  The peppers are mild with an intense capsicum (pepper) flavor which is occasionally hot.  Simply throw them on the grill for a few minutes and sprinkle with salt.  They also stand up pretty well to a tempura bath and fry.  We like to skewer the peppers using 2 thin skewers, as pictured - a trick we learned watching Chef Kimura at Kihachi.

Salmon Sashimi with Radishes

First of all, I can't take credit for this recipe.  It must have been 2-3 years ago that Chef Ben Graham served this as a special at the Burgundy Room when Copper River Salmon was running - which just so happens to coincide with the beginning of radishes here in Central Ohio.  His version had an array of heirloom radishes and some super peppery extra virgin olive oil.  Mine has the only radishes available at this week's farmer's market and a slightly milder, but still delicious olive oil (Falconero). 

Recreating this dish also provided an excuse to buy a new toy whilst out buying salmon at Tensuke market: a sashimi knife.  What separates a sashimi knife is its long, thin blade, which is intended to slice through a block of fish in one clean swipe, creating perfect slices of sashimi.  Some sashimi knives are sharpened only on one side, as is the knife I purchased, making it unsuitable for lefties.  I'm sure somewhere there are left-handed sashimi knives.  If you aren't going to be making sushi on a daily basis, you should be fine with the kind of inexpensive knife I purchased; should you desire something better, on the other hand, there's really no end to the amount you could spend on a "good" sushi knife (I believe Chef Kimura at Kihachi told us his sushi knife was upwards of $1000; that's what it takes to have your knife custom made by families who have been making samurai swords for hundreds of years).

So, now that I have a sushi knife, am I going to start making sushi?  Maybe.  I have owned a rolling mat and pressing box for about 10 years now.  I'm not going to pretend I know anything about making sushi, but I might try my hand at it sometime soon.

This, of course, would not qualify as a traditional Japanese sashimi dish, although if you took off the olive oil and replaced the salt with soy sauce, it could pass.  Of course, never in Japanese cuisine would you be served four slices of sashimi - something I thought of only after shooting the picture and consuming all of the dish.  In Japan, even numbers are considered unlucky, especially the number 4, the name for which closely resembles the word for death (there are many sources for this, here's one from a company who assists expats).

This appetizer is so simple, yet very impressive - as with all simple things, you really must begin with the best ingredients.  There is no room for shortcuts.  I bought the salmon at Tensuke for several reasons - they probably have the highest turnover of any fish, anywhere, even if they don't have a traditional fish counter.  They sell salmon, tuna, and yellowtail as sashimi, sold with a simple packet of wasabi and soy sauce.  Furthermore, the fish is already trimmed into a block, so all you have to do when you get it home is slice it into thin slices - it might seem expensive by the pound, but there's zero waste (this block was $8 for about 6 ounces).  Their pieces of big eye tuna were so beautiful when I was shopping yesterday, I might have to go back today and pick some up for dinner.  Buy your salmon the day you plan to use it, and store it in the coldest part of your fridge.  Wash your hands thoroughly before handing the fish.

Salmon and Radish Sashimi - serves 2 as appetizer

1 6 ounce block sashimi grade salmon - no skimping!!
lemon juice
3 large radishes, root end trimmed, sliced very thinly on a mandoline or Japanese Ceramic slicer (one of my favorite $25 kitchen tools)
daikon radish sprouts (also available at Tensuke or another Asian market)
Really good extra virgin olive oil
Sea salt
Pepper

Slice the salmon with a very sharp knife, begin with the bottom of the blade (at about a 45 degree angle) at the corner of salmon block closest to you and slice in one continuous motion, through to the cutting board, bring the entire blade to the board.  If desired, squeeze a tiny bit of lemon juice over the fish.  Arrange the slices on a plate, alternating with radishes.  Drizzle with the extra virgin olive oil, sprinkle with salt and just a tiny bit of pepper.  Place the sprouts in a small bowl and drizzle with a tiny bit of lemon juice and olive oil.  Add a little salt and toss to coat.  Add as garnish.  We had this as an appetizer last night with a little sake in frozen shot glasses.  The perfect spring starter or light lunch on a nice warm day.

Fava Beans, A Simple Pleasure

Anytime you see fava beans on a menu in a restaurant, order them.  It doesn't matter how they're prepared (although simple is best): fava beans are a labor of love.  They have a brief season, are toxic to some unfortunate souls, and are the national food of Egypt.  They are also one of my favorite foods (I thought you could use an asparagus break, although I'll be back tomorrow with more); they are nutty and meaty, they don't really need any fussing around with - fresh fava beans are the very essence of the early growing season (I'll say the same about asparagus, sweet peas, various greens, chives, etc. but I mean it every time). 

If I didn't say it emphatically enough before, I'll repeat: the best ingredients need the least gussying up.  Keep that in mind.  A young fava bean barely needs salt, let along a million other ingredients.  They make divine bruschetta, but tonight, I decided I could wait no longer to devour them and consequently, they received a very simple treatment. Just as a side note, these are not local fava beans (they came from Whole Foods); as a matter of fact, I cannot recall purchasing favas from any farmer's market around Columbus - let's get on that, shall we? 

I mentioned that favas are a labor of love, and here's why: Fava beans come in a rather large pod (6 inches or so) which only contains about 3-4 beans per pod.  They must be removed from the pod (not as simple as shelling peas), blanched, and then shelled again - favas have a secondary husk which must be removed before eating.  But!  Without further ado, here's a little tutorial.  I hope it makes sense without pictures.

Fava Beans with Olive Oil and Parmesan - Serves 2 as a little snack

1 pound fava bean pods, favas removed from pods (further description of husking follows; removing them from the pods should be self-explanatory)
Really good extra virgin olive oil
Sea salt (I like Maldon)
Freshly cracked black pepper
Good Parmesan

Place the favas in boiling water and blanch for 2 minutes.  Rinse in cold water and begin the second shelling.  Of course, as with all tedious things, there's an easy way: (for a right-handed person) take the fava bean in your left hand, between thumb and forefinger, "belly" (hollow, scooped out side) up, with the sprout end (sometimes has a black striped) towards your right hand. With your right hand, hold a small pairing knife perpendicular to the bean, cut horizontally across the sprout end, making a tiny slit.  Squeeze the bean out of the husk; it should pop right out.  Repeat, ad nauseum, remembering the whole time how delicious favas are and how much you are going to enjoy them.

Bring another pot of water to a boil and salt liberally.  Add the husked beans and boil for another 2 minutes.  Rinse the beans lightly in cold water and drain well.  Place on plates and drizzle with olive oil; sprinkle with salt and pepper, and add just a few tiny grates of Parmesan. 

Eat, savoring bean by bean, enjoying the fruits of your labor.

Tempura Revisited

I had a stroke of brilliance a few days ago.  Seriously, brilliance.  You see, I have, as I'm sure many of you do, a yard full of green tomatoes.  Pounds and pounds of them.  My cherry tomatoes continue to ripen away as though it were 80 degrees outside, but for the larger tomatoes, well, they are stunted.  Anyone who has lived in our climate knows there's no hope for these leftovers.  I still have flowers on my tomato vines - the vine thinks it's still warm outside, but the tomatoes, they know better.  I have been racking my brain thinking of ways to use all of these greenies.  Remember the purple tomatillos from a few weeks ago (weren't they pretty with their little hats)?  Well, they were going to go into sweet tomatillo and green tomato gazpacho, but then they froze by accident in the fridge and turned to mush, and anyway, still, I have green tomatoes.

And then it hit me: tempura!!!  Of course!  The perfect answer to fried green tomatoes!  Why don't I ever see that anywhere?  Why?  I'll tell you why: tempura is not the best medium for fried green tomatoes.  What seemed like the aforementioned stroke of brilliance turned out to be okay when fresh and scathingly hot from the wok, but immediately turned into a slightly soggy, sad mess with a molten-hot center.  I would never want you, dear readers, to think that I think everything I do is perfectly delicious.  Of course, I try to put my better recipes on the website, because what faith would you have in me if nothing every looked good or turned out?  My mother cooks these recipes, for the love of crumb cake!  I want them to work!

Which is why I will humbly advise you to take my word for it and not try to tempura fry green tomatoes.  Would you like me to break it down further?  Most people put a nice coating of cornmeal-heavy breading on fried green tomatoes - this ensures a nice barrier in case any of the tomato's insides start to leek through (even though we're using unripe tomatoes here, they are still wet inside).  Part of the beauty of tempura batter is its fragile viscosity, which, when prepared correctly, will cling to just about anything, even a dry piece of broccoli.  I just isn't suited to the threat of damp.  It's delicate, whereas cornmeal is hearty.  Therefore, I offer you last year's Fried Green tomato recipe, which is still good, after all this time.

I can attest to the fact that the following items, all purchased this week from the farmer's market, are delicious when tempura fried: onion rings, broccoli, cauliflower, salsify (I totally stole that idea from the menu at the Refectory - must give credit where credit is due), hot chiles, red bell peppers, and, of course, leftover bits of nothing but the batter itself, skimmed from the surface of the oil.  To read more in depth about tempura frying, please see my earlier article on Squash Blossom Tempura - the basic method is the same.  If you have loved ones who are finicky about getting in their veggies, tempura is a great trick!  I served this up with a "tartar" sauce of equal parts Kewpie mayo and my hot sweet pepper relish purcahsed from Wishwell farms (that advice is right on the jar, and it's good advice!); of course, equal parts mayo and whole grain mustard with a dash of Tabasco works well, too, as does a simple good sprinkling of salt.  After all of this fried goodness, you will probably need a nice bitter salad, so plan accordingly when you're out shopping.

Carnival Squash with Pumpkin Seeds, Butter & Sweet Things

This lovely little squash is the squash which has greeted you for a few weeks when you visit my website.  I received him in my CSA basket a few weeks ago, and placed him on the counter as a decoration.  Fortunately for me, a kind reader and CSA helper wrote to inform me that I should actually be eating, and not merely admiring what I thought was a little pumpkin.  I'm so glad she did.  This might be the most delicious squash I have ever eaten; my only regret is I have only one left, and who knows if they will still be available at the market on Saturday?  This squash, which, after a little research, I have identified as a Carnival Squash, is absolutely divine with nothing on it - I promise.  Of course, to celebrate the season, I thought a smattering of pumpkin seeds and the like wouldn't hurt.  And who wouldn't be delighted to be served this little guy as a starter, perhaps filled with soup or served alongside some nice pork?  or duck, rabbit or chicken?  As the farmer who grew it said, "it's just the perfect size for one, and it bakes right up in the oven."  True words, I tell you.  And now for the recipe - this would work with any sort of squash, of course, and you don't have to use pumpkinseed oil, although if you can find it, I think you'll discover it adds the warmth of autumnal memories to anything, especially anything containing squash anord pumpkin (which are the same thing, those of you from the land down under and elsewhere).  Pumpkinseed oil is meant as a flavoring agent, and should not be used for cooking; add it just prior to serving, wherever you plan to use it.  Pumpkin seeds are a natural pairing with squash of all sorts and add a nice crunch to the sometimes baby-food soft texture.

Carnival Squash with Pumpkin Seeds, etc - serves one, especially nice when it is cold, raining, and hailing golf balls outside, as it was last night, when I was eating it.

1 small squash such as carnival, dumpling, kobacha, delicata, or butternut (which will, of course, be bigger.)
1 tbsp really good butter
1/2 tbsp golden syrup (or brown sugar)
pinch good cinnamon
tiny pinch salt
1/8 tsp, or just few drops pumpkinseed oil
1 drop vanilla extract - just a tiny, tiny bit from a toothpick
1 tbsp roasted, salted pumpkinseeds

This is my method for cooking any kind of squash - preheat oven to 350 degrees.  Depending on your type of squash, cut either lengthwise (for delicate, butternut, or any long squash) or horizontally (for dumpling, acorn, carnival, etc) and scoop out the seeds and pulp.  Place in a shallow baking dish (such as a cake pan), cut side down, and fill with about 1/2" water (one fingertip length or so).  Bake for 20 minutes, and then check on it; some squash take up to 40 minutes - this carnival squash did, but the same method used for sweet dumpling took only 25 minutes. 

While the squash is baking, melt the butter, salt, cinnamon and golden syrup or brown sugar over low heat in a small sauce pan (or in the microwave).  Remove the squash from the oven, carefully place it in a bowl and place the butter mixture in the cavity, then add the pumpkinseed oil and vanilla.  Sprinkle with pumpkinseeds and enjoy.  Of course, you can skip the melting part and just put all of the ingredients inside the squash cavity, cover it up and wait for it to melt on its own.  This makes it an almost effortless dish.

Did you know?  1 cup of squash provides over 200% of your daily vitamin A, over 30% Vitamin C, and 37% of your daily potassium?  (source)

1 ounce of pumpkinseeds provides 23% of your daily iron along with 9 grams of protein, 22% of Vitamin K, and is a great source of other minerals.  (source)  This is why some foods, although high in fat, should still be consumed - such as nuts, olive oil, and avocados.

Squash Blossom Tempura

I am convinced that tempura is a gift from the food gods.  I think it is probably the best way to convince kids to eat their veggies - I might have even been convinced to eat a pea as a child if it had been covered in lacy thread of tempura.  What is tempura?  In case you have never been so lucky, head to your best local Japanese restaurant and give it a try (my favorite is, of course, Kihachi - you can read about my adventures there here and here).  Tempura is the Japanese method of frying.  It involves a lighter-than-air batter of egg, cake flour and ice cold water which is very quickly stirred.  The coldness of the batter, according to Harold McGee's On Food and Cooking: the Science and Lore of the Kitchen, creates a viscous batter which readily adheres to the surface of the item being battered.  The light stirring creates an uneven batter which creates an uneven coating, and the batter must be kept fresh - the flour particles in the batter soak up very little water, making the crust very crispy.

Frying - especially if you don't have any fancy frying equipment - can be a little daunting in the home kitchen.  It's messy and stinky, it splatters and splashes oil everywhere, and you will almost certainly burn yourself at least once.  Get over it.  It's worth the effort.  Isn't it fattening?  Of course, but you will only eat it in moderation.  But you said to feed it to my kids?!  Fried food?!  What's better, a week straight of eating nothing but raw hot dogs or the same with some fried broccoli thrown in?  I thought so.  I was a picky child once, too.  So picky that peas could not even be placed next to me at the dinner table.  Their smell was vile enough to make me incapable of eating anything.  I long for those days of obsessive-compulsive will power...

At any rate, I set Husband to work making a filling, and I settled for store-bought tempura batter (but don't tell anyone).  Tempura is best eaten as soon as it is made, so if you're having it for an appetizer, make sure the rest of dinner is almost finished before you get started.  As with any successful operation, have ready all ingredients, utensils, and resting plate before you begin, as things are certain to get messier if you are scrambling for paper towels with veggies burning in hot oil.

Not having any special frying equipment, I employed my favorite $15 wok to do the job.  The wok is a nice choice because its anodized interior means it won't stain as easily as my All-Clad cookware would (just because it's called stainless doesn't make it so - it takes a lot of elbow grease to clean up after trying to fry in All-Clad, no matter what they show you on the Food Network).  You should also use a candy/oil thermometer to monitor your oil temperature.

And now you may begin.  Carefully stuff the squash blossoms (recipe at the bottom of post) - or don't, they are perfectly delicious unstuffed.  You can cut the squash off or leave it attached.  You can also fry squash pieces alone, or onion rings, or anything, really.  Place about 2 cups of vegetable or peanut oil in your walk, making sure the oil is at least 2 inches deep.  Heat the oil to 375 degrees - on my basic Maytag gas range, this is just above medium on the largest burner.  Turn on the exhaust fan. Mix the batter swiftly - I like to use a little bit of crushed ice in my water, just to be sure it stays cold throughout the process.  Do not overmix.  Have ready a large platter layered with paper towels, as well as a clean fork (or chopsticks) and one for using in the batter, and a large slotted spoon or strainer.  I like to have my ingredients on one side and my platter on the other, and I work in one direction, from right to left.

Using a fork or chopsticks, place about 4 blossoms into the batter bowl, turning carefully to coat.  Carefully place into the hot oil and cook for about 2 minutes - check to see if they are browning slightly and either cook one more minute and then flip, or flip right away if golden.  Cook for another 2 minutes.  When they are uniformly golden, remove carefully with the slotted spoon on the platter with paper towels.  Sprinkle with salt and repeat until they are all fried, being careful to not overcrowd the wok (thereby lowering the oil temperature and ending up with limp blossoms.

After you've fried your veggies, you might want to put a few bits of batter in the oil to use it up - trust me, it makes delightful little crunchy munchies with a bit of salt (pictured right).  I predict you won't be able to get enough.

Eat as soon as possible without burning your mouth, carefully employing ice cold beer as needed to soothe sore palates.

Squash Blossom Stuffing

10 baby squash with blossoms attached
1 small shallot, tiny dice
1/3 cup whole milk ricotta
salt and pepper
Tabasco
bread crumbs

Cut the squash from 4 blossoms and chop very finely.  Add it to the shallot and stir into the ricotta.  Add a little salt and pepper and a dash or 2 of Tabasco.  Add about 1-2 Tbsp bread crumbs and stir until the stuffing can hold its shape when scooped into a ball.  Carefully stuff into the blossoms - this is easiest to conduct when the blossoms are at their fullest.  If you aren't quite ready to use them, you can refrigerate them for a few hours and fry them later.  Any leftover stuffing can be scooped into balls, battered with tempura batter, and fried along with the blossoms.

Source Note: Squash Blossoms are seasonal and fleeting.  I bought these from Mead Acres farm at the Worthington Farmer's Market - the only ones I saw for sale; they will probably only be available for about 3 weeks or so, so you have to buy them while you can.  I haven't seen them for sale in any grocery store, but if you are friends with a chef, s/he might be able to get them for you, or there's a chance Whole Foods will carry them.  Of course, if you grow zucchini or other squash, you'll have plenty of your own.