Restaurant Widow

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.

Confessions of a So-Called Foodie::Confessions 1-4

A funny thing happens when you have a website such as this, no matter how humble you might think your recipes (seriously, I'm no Stephen): suddenly, no one wants you in their kitchen.  No one wants to cook for you anymore (except chefs).  Everyone wants those brownies or pots de creme (sorry, haven't written about them) you made last spring.  Everyone wants to go out to eat with you, and complains that you don't visit enough restaurants (Josh, I think that's 3 now).  Friends shake their heads when talking to you and say things like "boy do you guys eat great at home."  And so, this is for all of you.  And for any other foodies, chowhounds, or whatever else you call yourselves, (and I know you're out there) who secretly eat Cheez Wiz and White Castle sliders, and for all you chefs who love iceberg wedge salads (and I definately know you're out there). 

Confessions #1 - 4, in a series

1.  I love the packaged food at Trader Joe's, particularly their pasta sauces, 2 minute potato gnocchi (it's $1.69 a bag!?), and their dried tortellinis and raviolis.  I have eaten so many packaged food products from Trader Joe's that I could give you a dissertation on which are the best and why (Savory Thin rice crackers), which are the most nutritious (chicken chili, Marinated bean salad), which are strange tasting (beef chili), and which are unbelievable values (these don't really count I guess, but olive oil).  I have given serious consideration to giving up all the glamour of serving to become the food demonstrater at Trader Joe's.  I could be next Rachel Ray!  I could be Rachel Ray's cynical, eye-rolling, less-perky, snobbier evil twin sister (just kidding, she's older than me, but creepily, also a Virgo).

2.  I eat some form of instant Asian noodle - udon, ramen, fried ramen, pho bac, about 4 times a week, usually right before bed, as a snack.  I'll refer back to this when, in later confessions, I'll discuss my love of MSG.

3.  When I'm too lazy to make a full pot of coffee in the morning, I drink International Foods instant coffee with a few spoons full of instant espresso thrown in for good measure and foodie street cred.

4.  Even though I worked at Williams Sonoma for 2 years and extolled, to wealthy suburbanites, the virtues of Wusthoff over Henkel, and Shun over anything, I do not own a decent knife.  Our kitchen is full of Dexter Russell safety knives (available in restaurant supply stores), which, in the professional kitchen, is reduced to the lowliest possible chore; typically given to a server with no knife skills, in search of a knife so they can cut lemons with no cutting board.  My current favorite is a $12 Santoku, made in Japan, which I purchased at Kamei superstore in San Francisco (seriously, anyone in the bay area needs to go there ASAP).

So there you have it, now you need not be afraid to invite me over to dinner.  I'll bring the noodle casserole.

Winter

Well, I guess I have the winter blahs.  I have been sitting here, waiting for inspiration to strike for awhile.  So far, just a nostalgic longing for a return to visiting the farmer's markets. . . It's usually around this time of year that I start baking.  I buy cartons of eggs and flour and chocolate by the pounds and make pots de creme and brownies and cake and everything.  Alas, my Kitchenaid mixer blades are throwing off this horrid black residue onto everything I put in; time to buy some plastic coated ones, I think.

I don't need the mixer for creme brulee, though.  Hmm.  Think I'll make some creme brulee.  Then we can do special on blow torches.  Stay tuned . . .

And by the way, we're only a few months aways from fresh peas and asparagus.

What the -- Melting Heart, Melting Hopes

Mistakes keep us humble, don't they?  Without mistakes, we might all go through life learning nothing and thinking that we are absolute geniuses.  I know people like this, and they irritate me.  And so, in this sad tale of melting heart chocolate cakes, or lack thereof, I am prepared to take a little blame.  Just look at the sad little cake . . .

I know they've become commonplace and tired, but I still love melting center chocolate cakes.  They are so delicious - combining so many wonderful things.  And I have tried, rather unsuccessfully, to make a few in my day.  One recipe, which came from Williams Sonoma, involved inserting a homemade ganache truffle into the center of a dense and rather bitter chocolate cake; they insisted I should use 71% cocoa, but no sugar was added to the truffle mixture, and the whole thing was just wrong.

So today I decided to use Alton Brown's Chocolate Lava Muffins.  Yikes.  First of all, the muffins do not resemble cake in any way during the baking process, making one think they aren't baking and forcing one to leave them in for an extra 2 minutes.  They rose rounded, puffy, and pale in the oven and then deflated to nothingness as soon as they came out.  They were not flowing in the center, owing to overbaking, but they were cooked pretty evenly all the way through, leaving me to wonder how they would hold together if the centers had been oozing.  I remember watching this episode a few years ago on Good Eats and the muffin he ate looked absolutely nothing like the one that came from my oven.

Getting a bad recipe from a trusted source is really disappointing.  It's like a good friend standing you up, leaving you sitting alone at a bar.  Maybe, okay, maybe it's me, as I have just looked up the user reviews on foodnetwork.com and there are loads of reviews, almost all 5 stars.  Can we possibly be talking about the same cake?  Who are the people writing these reviews?  I couldn't believe some people said that their batter only made 6 muffins - mine made 12 huge ones - and/or that the muffins didn't rise - mine all rose and met each other on top of the pan. The flavor of the cake (and this is a fault of the recipe) rather than being intensely chocolaty, had a cooked-egg, almost meat-like flavor.  Er - not what I think of when I think of Chocolate Lava Muffins.

I had visions of oozing, gooey chocolate centers, of amazement and wonder from friends and Husband, who bought some of Jeni's Paupa New Guinea coffee ice cream today, with which I thought these cakes would be wonderful.  Alas, all hopes were dashed.  I have decided to try one more time, maybe sometime next week, just making regular chocolate cake batter and putting some chocolate bits in the centers, to see how that works.  You can be sure I will keep you posted.

Refectory Preview

I had a whole post almost ready to go, and the promptly erased it by accident.  Ah well, these things happen, I suppose.  It's off to work now, but here's a picture of the Refectory dining room, taken by the best camera ever! 

Also, don't forget that tonight Jeni's Ice Cream will be on Roker on the Road on Food Network at 9 pm. EST/PST!

Things Fall Apart::The Big Orange Blech

The split red lentil cannot hold.  I really wanted to participate in this IMBB, as I have never done so, and I was feeling heady from the success of my molasses creations (especially after licking all that bourbon sauce off the plate...)  Sadly, I was feeling a little uninspired by the color orange.  And then it hit me!

There is a salad Husband loves to make (and we both love to eat) that comes from Chef Richard Blondin at the Refectory Restaurant.  It involves Lentils du Puy, Granny Smith Apples, and a curry vinaigrette.  I could do this with the split red lentils I had in the cupboard!  Add some carrots and an orange bell pepper and viola!  Orange salad!  I am genius.

Well, here's the thing.  The French lentils are prized for their ability to retain a toothsome meatiness after cooking.  They are great for cooking and then incorporating into salads.  Split red lentils, on the other hand, are prized for their ability to cook into a creamy mush, great for cooking into spicy red dal soup. 

After about 10 minutes of simmering, during which time I whipped up my curry vinaigrette, the red lentils burst apart and I had a stock pot full of orange mush.  I hurriedly calculated, started a mirepoix in another pan, deciding to make soup in reverse - am still genius, ingenuitive genius!

I incorporated the two and allowed them to simmer on the stove.  And then forgot about it.  And so, here it is, my failed non-entry:  (Because I would never want anyone to think I couldn't admit my mistakes!)

So how does it taste?  Er, I'm not sure.  I'm a little afraid to try, to be quite honest.  At least I have my vinaigrette.  Will make the real thing, green though it may be, and tell you all about it in the coming week.