Pan de Higo

In this period of economic downturn, I've opted to be frugal. Strangely, this has made me an object of ridicule, to which I can only respond by saying that saving a little here and there adds up fairly quickly. I would rather have a nest egg at the ready for dire emergencies than be stripped of choices because I don't have the cash for it.

However, I did allow myself a tiny splurge recently. I spent some pocket change on a block of Pan de Higo ("fig bread", sometimes referred to in English as a fig cake) and a slender wedge of Tronchón cheese. Both originate from Spain.

The fig cake is a traditional way of preserving figs for the winter months. It involves mincing and compressing dried figs into a mold. Often, Marcona almonds -- also from Spain -- are mixed in, along with spices and/or honey.

The Tronchón is a semi-soft cheese made from the milk of different animals. The wedge I purchased was made from cow's milk, goat's milk and sheep's milk. It has the texture and color of Mozzarella.

The store had a sign beside the fig cake that strongly recommended its consumption with Spanish cheeses. Given that I already had the Tronchón in my shopping basket, it seemed like fate.

One thing I have learned about my palate is that it very quickly diminishes in its capacity to taste a certain flavor after two or more bites of the same thing. Contrasting textures and flavors keep my taste buds active and alert. So it made perfect sense to alternate between bites of fig cake and then allowing pieces of the cheese to melt in my mouth.

It was also delightful to see that something as ridiculously simple as fig cake could be so delicious. I wonder if other fruits can be compressed this way. It lights up the imagination.

Monster Pit

My favorite neighborhood grocery is offering a bumper crop of California avocados now. They had a nice color to them and serious heft, so I bought a few.

When the flesh had ripened, I excitedly cut into one of them. Considering how soft the fruit was, there was a surprising amount of resistance against the knife I was cutting it with.

You can see why.

The pit was monstrously huge -- the size of my fist. It was also heavy. If I beaned someone in the head with it, it would probably put them in a coma.

I feel a bit cheated. I paid more for the pit than the flesh, tasty as it was. It's the pits.

To Fish, or Not to Fish

I'm sorry that I haven't posted anything new in a while. A nasty cold/flu knocked me out for a week and I still haven't fully recovered. Having lost my appetite, the kitchen holds little appeal for me at the moment. So here's a little food for thought instead.

The Canadian Medical Association Journal published a paper this week that questions the wisdom of advising people to eat more fish when the world's fish stocks are in critical decline.

It's very easy for a doctor to tell her patients to eat more of this or less of that. How often do these doctors think about the ecological and ethical ramifications of their counsel? What if doctors start recommending foie gras as an effective means of preventing cancer? Would it lead to the cheapened, mass production of the product, prompting unscrupulous businesses to practice barbaric, industrial methods of force-feeding ducks and geese? Would consumers stop caring about ethics or animal rights if it means dodging the cancer bullet? What would be the impact of mass duck/goose farming to the food chain or the environment?

The Canadian researchers who authored "Are dietary recommendations for the use of fish oils sustainable?" weighed the limited health benefits of fish against the devastating ecological and socio-economic impacts of depleting fish stocks. Even fish farms are no solution, because popular fish like salmon and tuna are carnivorous -- an increase in their farming requires the further depletion of smaller fishes that comprise their diet.

I've always rebelled against sudden, ubiquitous health fads like the soy craze, probiotic obsession or the omega-3 mania. It leads uninformed people to overdo it, and even those who aren't buying into it find it impossible to avoid when manufacturers start pumping these supplements into all kinds of products. There's a butterfly effect to every dietary choice. It's a good sign when the medical professionals start considering the bigger picture before doling out their advice.

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Egging Me On

In recent years, my bread-baking has been directed by the white bread recipes of James Beard and Nigella Lawson. However, my very first exposure to bread-making was through a little Japanese cookbook (now out of print) for beginner bakers. I went back to that book this weekend and picked out an egg bread recipe.

The fragrant, spongy result has completely converted me over to egg bread. I've never been fully satisfied with the smell of home-made white bread, especially when made with active dry yeast. The funky, yeasty odor sometimes overpowers the loaf. Eggs apparently mask or neutralize the smell, replacing it with the inviting, familiar smells that waft from a bakery.

The loaf was incredibly light: a crunchy shell housing a fluffy centre. It was good on its own and delectable with margarine.

I was eating a lime-infused salad as I sampled the first couple of slices of the egg bread. It dawned on me that adding lime to the dough would make a very interesting loaf. That will be my next baking project.

What's Up, Wasabi

I was in the mood for a simple, cool salad using hard-boiled eggs. All I had in my crisper to accompany it were green onions and tomatoes. So it was up to the dressing to "dress up" the meal. A straightforward vinaigrette would have been ok, but I wanted something creamy to complement the eggs. Yet it needed to be astringent to go with the tomatoes.

Limes and a tube of wasabi paste came to mind. That's how this Creamy Wasabi Lime Dressing came to be:

• 1/4 to 1/2 tsp wasabi paste, to taste
• 1 heaping Tbsp of mayonnaise (regular or light)
• grated rind of 1 lime
• juice of 1/2 a lime (less if you don't like it too tart)

Whisk everything together until smooth. Drizzle over salad.

Anticipating Spring

Spring is still far, far away for those of us in the Great White North, but the odd warm spell drives people out to the patios even if there's still snow on the ground. A medley of brightly colored vegetables are my symbols of spring.

I had loads of roasted chicken left over, which inspired me to make a chicken salad. I lightly steamed some broccoli, heating them until the greens became brighter while still retaining some crunch. Button mushrooms, onions and shredded chicken meat were stir-fried in the juices that were reserved from when I roasted the chicken. Everything was tossed together with sliced cherry tomatoes. I baked the leftover skin to make some cracklings for garnish.

For a dressing, I whisked together olive oil, balsamic vinegar, dijon mustard, and some salt and pepper. It was a bright, fresh and filling salad.

I Phyllo Good

Yesterday, Lynn made a delicious cherry strudel enveloped in the flaky, light delight that is phyllo pastry. While happily noshing on it, I suddenly realized that I never posted the phyllo pie dish that I made last month. There was a moment of panic this morning when I couldn't locate the photos right away, but here it is.

The inspiration for it was Kibbeh pie, which is a spiced meat dish in Levantine cuisine. You'll find different versions of Kibbeh per region, e.g. Syrian Kibbeh is quite different from Lebanese Kibbeh.

One Saturday, as I was preparing a grocery list for my weekly shopping run, I had the TV on PBS and saw a Ground Beef Pie recipe on Martha Stewart's "Everyday Food". In the space of mere minutes, I saw one of the chefs prepare a phyllo-wrapped beef pie reminiscent of Kibbeh. I didn't take notes but had a rough idea of what the ingredients were as I stepped out of the house.

However, I decided to give it my own spin by incorporating everything that I wanted to taste in a beef pie:

• a few tablespoons of olive oil
• 1 medium-sized onion, finely diced
  
• garlic, minced (I used a lot, but that's not necessary if it's not to your liking)
• 1/2 cup of sliced almonds
  
• 500-600g of ground beef (I prefer medium ground; lean/extra lean lacks fat, hence is too dry)
• 1 796ml can of whole tomatoes, well-drained and diced (if you can find San Marzano tomatoes, even better)
• 1 200ml can of sliced black olives
• 1 796ml can of red kidney beans, rinsed and drained thoroughly
• 2 cups of sliced baby eggplants, salted for about 10 min to draw out moisture then rinsed and drained thoroughly (any eggplant would do, but I prefer these sweeter-tasting babies)
• around 1 Tbsp of ground cinnamon
• 1 heaping tsp of allspice
• a handful of chopped, fresh cilantro
  
• salt and pepper, to taste

Very simply, I heated the first 4 ingredients in a large pot until the onions became translucent, but not browned. Then I heated the beef through until the redness was gone. After that, I added one ingredient at a time and stirred until well-incorporated. I covered the pot and let it cook until the eggplant softened. The mixture was drained and removed from heat to cool down.

While the filling cooled off, I prepared the phyllo. It was a very fast and simple process of layering phyllo sheets in a haphazard manner -- not neatly stacked -- in order to create a rough, circular shape with a wide circumference. Each sheet was brushed with olive oil before setting down the next sheet. Working quickly to prevent the pastry from drying out, I layered 8 sheets. The pastry was gently eased into a greased springform pan with parchment cut to fit the bottom (also greased). The excess pastry was allowed to hang over the edge of the pan. Phyllo is very forgiving, so it didn't matter that there were a few tears here and there. I had the option to use a pie plate, but I like a deep-dish pie to have straight, vertical sides.

To the cooled filling, I added one egg as a binding agent. The "Everyday Food" recipe calls for 5 eggs, but I didn't want my pie to be too custardy. Besides, I wanted to save my few remaining eggs for other recipes -- yes, I'm cheap that way. Then the filling was spooned into the pastry. The hanging edges of the phyllo sheets were folded over the filling in a rough manner so that the top of the pie was completely covered by pastry. I personally like the look of messy, twisted, wrinkled phyllo, but you can make it as neat as you want.

After brushing the top crust with olive oil, the pie was baked at 400°F for 20-30 min until the crust was golden, dry and crisp.

The beauty of phyllo is that, once baked, it doesn't turn soggy very easily. The pie crust stayed crunchy even after spending a week in the fridge and facing multiple turns in the microwave. Its endurance as a leftover food makes phyllo, and this recipe, a good candidate for the cookbook. You'll be seeing more phyllo recipes in the coming weeks, I'm sure.

As American as Biscuits

Baking can be intimidating to someone who has never done it or seen it done. Bread-baking is especially daunting, with its finicky ingredient chemistry and high likelihood of failure.

Baking powder biscuits were my gentle initiation into the world of breads. They rely on baking powder, not yeast, to rise. Since they don't require any proofing time, they can be made quickly. For such a simple recipe, they're wonderfully satisfying: split one open as soon as it comes out of the oven and butter it up. It's probably why Americans have been making it since the days of cowboys and chuck wagons.

I'm contemplating including a recipe for baking powder biscuits in the cookbook. However, I would like to give it a personalized twist. Some people add herbs or grated cheese to the dough for flavor. Share with me your ideas. If I think of something interesting, I'll post it here.

Whole Food

It's not easy for a city-dweller -- especially a single person -- to find, let alone cook, a whole animal. We only get access to fragments of the animal: chicken breasts, sliced bacon, lamb chops, or fish fillets neatly packaged in styrofoam and plastic wrap.

So when the opportunity arises to cook something from end-to-end, it turns an ordinary repast into something momentous.

Oddly enough, my friendly local butcher has a respectable fish counter beside his display of pork ribs, steaks and chicken feet. The colorful rows of yellow-tail snapper nestled on crushed ice caught my eye. The flesh was bright and their fishy frowns were leavened by clear, shiny eyes. As the butcher scaled and cleaned my snapper, he asked if I already picked out my wine to go with it.

As is often the case, I didn't have a recipe in mind when I did my groceries. Furthermore, I've never cooked this fish before. I Googled for recipes, even contemplated salt crust roasting like my Mom would, but ultimately decided to let the fish cook au naturel. The Food Network's "The Wild Gourmets" may have influenced me: if roasting a fish on a stick over a camp fire is perfectly adequate for a great meal, then why fuss with stuffings or marinades?

I did dress up the fish after baking it in the oven (around 30 min. at 400°F). I fought off the cats pawing at my legs while carefully removing the flesh in large pieces from the pinbones. I put two generous dollops of home-made ketchup on a plate, nestled the fish on top, then added bocconcini (fresh mozzarella) pearls and cherry tomato halves. I drizzled lemon-infused olive oil and balsamic vinegar, then finished the dish with dried basil, salt and pepper. It was a nice, light meal.

Note: I can't rave enough about the merits of making your own ketchup. Not to knock commercial brands like Heinz (which is a reliably good product and a classic mainstay of diners and burger joints), but home-made catsup is intensely flavorful in a way you might not expect. A small spoonful of this stuff is all you need to give your burger the sweet/acidic punch it needs to complement the fatty goodness of the beef. I made my batch using Michael Smith's recipe in "Chef at Home".