the basics of brown sauces

Readers, don't be intimidated. It's only homemade stock, yes the good stuff, from roasted bones and overnight simmers. You'll pat yourself on the back at the end of it all, having accomplished something that your grandmothers probably did on a weekly basis, and now, only a handful of good restaurants. Stock is made from the bones, whereas broth is a less flavorful version made from just the meat. I know, I know, none of us really have the time to be standing in front of our stoves stirring around bones and chicken carcasses all the time, when buying a carton or can of the ready-made stuff from the supermarket is just so easy. But if you really want those deep, lustrous flavors that you get at that special Michelin-starred restaurant, you really must toss out the inferior canned broths. So tie on those apron strings and get out that wooden spoon. It's time to get back to the root of things.

Veal stock serves as the base of many sauces in basic French cuisine, with the most important of all being demi-glace. More on that later. Homemade veal stock starts with veal bones. Try to avoid using joint bones, as they have lower amounts of marrow. Pick out long bones (from the legs) that have been broken down by the butcher. I had a hell of a time finding good veal bones. After calling the meat departments at Wegman's, Whole Foods, Eddie's, Cierello's, Graul's, and H-Mart, I was ready to give up the search (though I hear that Graul's will rarely carry them), when I stumbled upon some loose packages (half to one pound each) at Giant! My advice would be to call ahead with your butcher and get a schedule of when they get veal shipments. Locating the bones is half the battle, the rest is really quite simple.

Veal Stock
from The Balthazar Cookbook
makes 1 to 1 1/2 quarts

5 lbs. veal bones
1/4 cup tomato paste
1 yellow onion, roughly chopped
2 carrots, roughly chopped
1 celery stalk, including leaves
1 head of garlic, halved horiontally

1. Preheat oven to 450F. Heat a dry roasting pan in the oven for 15 minutes. Add the bones to the pan and roast until well browned, about 90 minutes. Turn the bones frequently during roasting.

2. When the bones are browned, add the tomato paste and vegetables. Toss to combine and continue roasting for another 30 minutes.

3. Transfer the contents of the pan into a large stockpot and fill with water (about 8 quarts). Bring to a boil and skim off any residue from the top. Lower the heat to maintain a gentle simmer for 6 hours. Strain the stock through a fine mesh sieve.

4. Cool and refrigerate for up to 3 days or freeze for up to 1 month.


What now, what next? Veal stock can be used in place of beef stock in many recipes, and serves as a rich base for stews and soups. I've used it in boeuf bourguignon and braised beef short ribs with great success. Many commercial grade demi-glaces nowadays are made the easy way, by taking the shortcut and simply reducing the hell out of large quantities of veal stock. Traditionally, demi-glace is equal parts veal stock and Espagnole sauce, reduced down. Espagnole sauce is another one of those quintessential French brown sauces that's so crucial to the cuisine it's considered a "mother sauce." Made with a dark roux, stock, and tomato paste, this is another long pain-staking process, but well worth it.


Espagnole Sauce
from The Escoffier Cook Book
makes 2 quarts

4 oz. (8 Tbsp) clarified butter
4 1/2 oz. all purpose flour
3 quarts veal or beef stock
1 lb. fresh tomatoes, roughly chopped
2 carrots, roughly chopped
1 onion, diced
2 stalks celery, roughly chopped
1 sprig fresh thyme
1 bay leaf

1. For the Brown Roux: Preheat the oven to 350F. Mix the flour and butter in a thick saucepan and place it in the hot oven, stirring occasionally. The roux will be done when it acquires a fine, light brown color and when it exudes an odor resembling that of toasted hazelnuts.

2. In a large stockpot, mix together 8 oz. brown roux with the 3 quarts stock. Let come to a boil and turn down the heat to simmer. Skim the residue off the top every 20-30 minutes over the course of 3 hours. (Add more stock if it reduces down too quickly.) You will have at this point, a much lighter colored stock than with what you started.

3. Add the remaining ingredients and stir. Simmer for another 2 hours. Skimming is not necessary during this time. After 2 hours, strain 3-4 times through a fine mesh sieve into a large tureen to keep and cool. To prevent a skin from forming, set a piece of wax or parchment paper over the sauce.

Espagnole sauce is made perfect through making a high-quality roux, a clear stock, and constant skimming. A good sauce will be clear and brilliantly lustrous. We can take it one step further here to make demi-glace, which means half glaze.


Demi-Glace
from Escoffier Cook Book

1 quart veal stock
1 quart Espagnole sauce
1/3 cup dry sherry
1 Tbsp butter

1. In a large pot, mix together the stock and Espagnole. Bring to a boil and lower the heat to simmer. Reduce down to 9/10 of a quart. Strain into a bowl, mix in the sherry and butter, and let cool to room temperature.


You can store the demi-glace in sealed containers, or as many chefs prefer, to pour it into an ice cube tray and freeze for individual size portions. Frozen demi-glace also keeps longer.

See, that wasn't so bad, was it? Well, at least you can't say I never taught you nothin'.

yeasted buckwheat waffles

Breakfast for me is usually pretty simple, a bowl of cereal, sometimes a hard boiled egg with a piece of toast. Very rarely do I plan out the meal starting the night before. But I knew in advance I'd have the day off, so I planned out a lazy morning of a comforting breakfast, the paper, and a cup of espresso. Buckwheat pancakes and crepes are one of my all-time favorite breakfast choices. Buckwheat's nuttiness can fool you into thinking it's an earthy whole grain, but in fact, it's actually the seed of a fruit. (It only cooks like a cereal.) And so, it's completely gluten free. And thus, most buckwheat batter recipes generally call for equal parts flour and buckwheat flour, to give it more gluten proteins for a finished product that's more chewy and elastic.

Yeast is an amazing organism. Within minutes, it starts its life cycle, able to thrive on sugars alone. The overnight fermentation, or rise, gives these waffles a distinctive heady aroma, a wonderfully nuanced yeasty flavor, reminiscent of a good microbrew. The rise produces an incredibly light texture with a delicate crumb and a crispy exterior. Definitely not your everyday frozen Eggo waffle. Speaking of, these waffles reheat well. Throw them in the toaster or toaster oven to recrisp them.


Yeasted Buckwheat Waffles
Gourmet, October 1997
makes 8 waffles

1 tsp active dry yeast
1 teaspoon sugar
1 cup lukewarm milk
1/4 tsp salt
3/4 cups flour
1/2 cup buckwheat flour
1 Tbsp sugar
2 1/2 Tbsp vegetable oil
1 egg, beaten
1/4 tsp baking soda

1. In a small bowl, sprinkle the yeast into 1/8 cup warm water and stir in the sugar. Let stand until foamy, about 10 minutes.

2. Put the warm milk and salt in a large bowl, then add the yeast mixture and whisk in the flours. Cover and refrigerate overnight if the weather is warm or leave out on the counter if it's cool.

3. Next morning, add the sugar, oil, eggs, and soda. Cook according to your waffle iron's instructions.

carrot halwa

Sweet, milky, pudding-esque things just put a big old grin on my face. And it doesn't hurt that the main actor here is the earthy and sweet carrot, a vegetable that's never in the spotlight. Often hidden from view, mixed into mire-poix, and carelessly thrown in "for flavor" in soups and sauces, the carrot is rarely acclaimed for its intrinsic sweetness. Give me a plate of pan-roasted carrots anyday and I'll be a happy girl. Though I have to say that carrot sticks freak me out...I mean, they're artificially shaped, so um...where does the rest of it go? Anyway, it's already got a lot going, a beautiful orange hue and one skinny little thing has enough vitamin A to fulfill more than twice your daily needs! I'm a big fan, and it's about time we feature it in more recipes, both in entrees and desserts.

I first had this pudding dish at an Indian BBQ last summer, the kind where there are hundreds of family members roaming around, trading recipes, and eating out of huge foil trays of curries and chutneys. It was made with dark raisins, and I could only finish half of mine, as it was so rich and sweet. But the memory of that creamy dish stayed with me, cool and satisfying under that scorching sun. I found a simple recipe for it in an Indian cookbook Mr.S had given me a few months ago (as a reward for finishing my LSATs!).

Today was a good day to make this dessert. I've been skimping on the workouts lately, and it was about time to shape up these guns of mine. Let me tell you, hand grating carrots is not child's play. I did four sets (one for each carrot), and was well rewarded with a warm, sticky bowl of delicious carrot pudding. My second helping was slightly more decadent, spooned over a bowl of butter pecan ice cream. Ohmigod. A couple ladles of this can easily rival any warm chocolate sauce! This recipe is a keeper in my book, and hopefully yours too.


Carrot Halwa
adapted from India with Passion: Modern Regional Home Food
serves 3-4

4 green cardamoms
2 tsp unsalted butter or ghee
4 medium carrots, peeled and finely grated
1 1/3 cups whole milk
2 Tbsp packed brown sugar
12 blanched almonds, coarsely chopped
scant 1/4 cup golden raisins
pinch saffron

1. Peel the outer casings of the cardamom and crush the seeds in a mortar and pestle. Set aside.

2. Melt the butter or ghee in a heavy pot. Add the carrots and stir over medium heat for 3 minutes, to soften them. Pour in the milk and cook over low heat for about 10 minutes or when the milk cooks down to the consistency of heavy cream. Stir occasionally.

3. Stir in the cardamom, sugar, half the almonds, saffron and raisins. Cook for another 5 minutes. The milk should be thick and mostly evaporated, the carrots soft.

4. Spoon into serving bowls. Garnish with the remaining almonds and serve either warm or cold.

oyster stew and cornmeal dumplings

This gloomy, drippy winter weather has got me in the doldrums. The cold outside has limited my once frequent grocery store trips, not to mention the dark skies at 5 in the afternoon have tricked me into being tired and ready for bed at 6! It was definitely time for a pick-me-up, a dish that would lift me out of my abysmal blues. So I switched on my Bebel Gilberto playlist, poured a glass of wine, and reacquainted myself with the warmth of my kitchen, and the delight in cooking a simple and soothing stew. It's frankly the best kind of therapy.


I combined some of my favorite flavors in this stew. I love them individually on their own, but together, they pack a mighty punch. Ultimately, each of them has a certain sweetness that's subtle and comforting. Oysters are briny, yes, but when they are at their peak freshness, they deliver a wonderfully divine sweetness. The tender leeks, soft cornmeal accented with a touch of brown sugar, and the creamy milk that serves as the base all combine to satisfy a starving sweet tooth.

The dumplings were inspired by a recipe from last month's Gourmet, which featured traditional Southern fare. They were soft but meaty, and even better the second day around, as all the flavors had a chance to soak in. No need for crusty bread or oyster crackers here, maybe just a good glass of white wine or a mug of chamomile tea. Fuzzy slippers and a plush robe are optional.

Oyster Stew with Cornmeal Dumplings

Stew:
1 pint fresh shucked oysters
1 stalk leek, white and light green parts finely chopped
2 Tbsp butter
2 cups clam juice
2 cups half and half or milk
1/4 tsp grated nutmeg
pinch of cayenne pepper
salt and pepper, to taste

Dumplings:
1/4 cup all purpose flour
1/4 cup yellow cornmeal
1 tsp packed brown sugar
1/2 tsp baking powder
2 tsp unsalted butter, softened
1/3 cup milk

1. For the dumplings: In a bowl, stir together all the dry ingredients. Whisk in the butter and milk until a smooth batter forms that gently pulls away from the side of the bowl. Add more flour, if necessary. Let stand for 5-10 minutes. With wet hands, roll tablespoons of dough into balls and set aside.

2. For the stew: Drain the oysters from the liquor, and reserve both. Pat the oysters dry. In a deep saucepan, melt 1 Tbsp of butter over medium-high heat. Add the leeks and sweat 3-5 minutes, until tender and fragrant. Add the reserved oyster liquor, half and half, clam juice, and seasonings. Let it come to a boil, and turn the heat down to low. Simmer for 5 minutes.

3. Drop the prepared dumplings one by one into the simmering broth and cook on low for about 10 minutes. Cover the pot during this time to prevent too much evaporation.

4. Meanwhile, in a skillet, gently fry the oysters in 1 Tbsp of butter or oil until the edges start to curl, about 2-3 minutes. Remove and spoon into the simmering stew. Cook everything for another 5 minutes. Serve warm.

cakelove comes to baltimore

I drove by the Safeway in Canton last month, and almost stopped dead in the middle of traffic. So, it seems that Cakelove is opening up next to the Starbuck's next month. Never heard of it? Well, you may have heard of the show Sugar Rush on the Food Network, hosted by attorney-turned-pastry chef Warren Brown, who is based out of D.C. Cakelove is his brainchild, a patisserie/cake shop that offers a good selection of cupcakes and other carb-tastic creations.

Frankly, I'm not enthused. I've tasted some of the offerings at his U Street location and they left much to be desired. There are the quirkily named Crunchy Feet and Buzz Balls, which are basically mini fluted poundcakes and round eclairs, respectively. Come on people, let's cut the cutesy names and just call it what it is! (Appropriately enough, both names are registered and trademarked.) Both were good, but unmemorable. Nearly everything is overpriced. I'm not sure I can justify paying close to $40 for a baker's dozen of cupcakes, no matter how good they are, or break the $3 mark for a brownie, or pay $70 bucks for a typical 9" layer cake. (Maybe I'm biased in my opinion, since I can easily make most of these items in my own kitchen, not to sound like a total brat.) Moreover, last time I was there, I was more than dismayed to see the cookies and scones indivually wrapped in layers of plastic wrap piled inside a cakestand. Don't they understand that totally kills that lovely buttery crust that's so important to a good scone? So I must stop my diatribe right now before I become too bitter.

Anyway, you will have to try it out for yourself before you make up your minds about Cakelove. I'm interested to see the crowds it'll no doubt, initially draw, mostly due to its owner's reputation. And I suspect it will have it's gaggle of loyal followers (probably mostly young, urban, and professional). But unlike another D.C.-Baltimore based Food Network star, Duff Goldman of Charm City Cakes who really does offer a novel service that no one else can, Cakelove has very little wow impact. Though it's very much a bright, sunny, and happy place, its pastries are not quite unique, and not very scrumptious. That's just my honest opinion, but don't take my word as the final word!


Cakelove
The Can Company
2500 Boston Street
Baltimore, MD 21224

ginger scallion lobster

I can always count on my dad to happily surprise me with a dish from his kitchen. We've never cooked this traditional dish at home before; we've only ordered it out at Cantonese restaurants, and only then, rarely, since it's an expensive one and a messy one for your fingers. However, he made this last weekend for a dinner party that left me in gleeful tears. What's wonderful about this dish is that it's not just the tail meat; you are getting the whole lobster with all its delightful flavors and tender parts.

The ingredients in this dish are simple and straightforward, yet to master it, you must have some serious wok skills. It's cooked fast and furious, over a smokin' hot flame. The resulting lobster is out of this world. Sweet and succulent, it also has a nice subtle smokiness. Ginger and scallion forge a mighty partnership here. Be sure to use a very fresh, live lobster.



Ginger Scallion Lobster (Cōng Jiāng Lóng Xiā)

1 whole live lobster
10 stalks green scallion, cut into 2" long pieces
1" piece fresh ginger, cut into 1/8" discs
5 cloves garlic
2 Tbsp Chinese cooking wine
salt, to taste
1 tsp cornstarch, mixed with 3 Tbsp water

1. Chop up the lobster into large pieces of roughly equal size. Roughly pound the garlic with the flat side of a cleaver to release the flavors.

2. Heat 3 Tbsp of oil over high heat in a wok. Add the scallion, ginger and garlic, and stirfry until fragrant, about 1 minute. Add the lobster pieces and keep stirring until they're 75% cooked through and the shell starts to turn a light red color.

3. Add the salt and cooking wine. At the very end of the cooking process, stir in the cornstarch mixture and allow it to thicken over the pieces of lobster. Remove from heat and serve.

maple pecan scones

Maple syrup is such a seductive flavor. It's deep and sensual, subtly sweet as it wraps its way around your tongue. Growing up, my family never ate maple syrup on anything. In fact, we never had pancakes or waffles for breakfast; they were considered too foreign and rich for my parents palate. And so, those little packets of imitation maple syrup that came along with my french toast sticks in the school cafeteria were to me, a real treat. There's always something that's intrigued me about it; it comes from a tree! The fact that it has to be tapped out so slowly and painstakingly from a limited natural source makes it all the more special for me. Unlike some, I'm not too particular about my maple syrup. I have no idea what grade A or B even means, though I'm sure there's a significant difference. It all tastes lovely to me, especially over my banana buckwheat pancakes, a bowl of Greek yogurt, or a crisp slab of Scrapple.

Here, I've incorporated it into delicate, buttery scones. The flavors are mild, so if you like a bit more oomph, add more than 1/4 cup to the recipe. I brought a plateful of these to a brunch party a few weekends ago. They were a hit... I came home with an empty plate of crumbs.



Maple Pecan Scones
adapted from Cooks Illustrated
makes 8 scones or 16 mini scones

8 Tbsp unsalted butter, frozen solid, plus additional 2 Tbsp, melted for brushing
1/2 cup whole milk
1/2 cup sour cream
2 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 cup sugar, plus extra for sprinkling
2 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
1/4 cup maple syrup
1/4 cup toasted pecan pieces

1. Adjust oven rack to middle position and heat oven to 425 degrees. With the large holes on a box grater, grate the 8 tablespoons of frozen butter. Place grated butter in freezer until needed. Melt 2 tablespoons of remaining ungrated butter and set aside.

2. Whisk together milk and sour cream in medium bowl; refrigerate until needed. Whisk flour, 1/2 cup sugar, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and lemon zest in chilled medium bowl. Add frozen butter to flour mixture and toss with fingers until thoroughly coated.

3. Add milk mixture to flour mixture; fold with spatula until just combined. With rubber spatula, transfer dough to liberally floured work surface. Dust surface of dough with flour; with floured hands, knead dough 6 to 8 times, until it just holds together in ragged ball, adding flour as needed to prevent sticking.

4. Roll dough into approximate 12-inch square. Fold dough into thirds like a business letter, using bench scraper to release dough if it sticks to countertop. Lift short ends of dough and fold into thirds again to form approximate 4-inch square. Transfer dough to plate lightly dusted with flour and chill in freezer 5 minutes.

5. Transfer dough to floured work surface and roll into approximate 12-inch square again. Spread the maple syrup evenly over surface of dough, then press pecans down so they are slightly embedded in the dough. Using a bench scraper or thin metal spatula, loosen dough from work surface. Roll dough, pressing to form tight log. Lay seam-side down and press log into 12 by 4-inch rectangle. Using sharp, floured knife, cut rectangle crosswise into 4 equal rectangles. Cut each rectangle diagonally to form 2 triangles and transfer to parchment-lined baking sheet.

6. Brush tops with melted butter and sprinkle with remaining tablespoon sugar. Bake until tops and bottoms are golden brown, 18 to 25 minutes. Transfer to wire rack and let cool 10 minutes before serving.

baltimore cupcake company

I finally made my way over to the Baltimore Cupcake Company last week, after hearing mouthwatering raves from many a friend and loyal followers of these top-heavy mini cakes. The store is in a word, delightful. It's every little girl's tea party dream, pink walls, white chandeliers, whimsical cakestands and crisp linens. And along a rear counter, four trays of pristine cupcakes, all of varying hues and flavors. I had to fight the urge to dip a finger in every cake. At 3pm, two of the trays were already empty. Much to my disappointment, it'd been all the vanilla ones. I didn't have too much trouble picking out the ones I wanted from what was left. I pointed, the girl bagged. There was coconut and pumpkin amaretto. Needless to say, the drive home with my sachets of goodies was quite torturos as I did everything in my power to keep from peeking in to sneak a bite.

My hands trembled when I unwrapped the cakes from their shells. What was impressive was that there was as much frosting as there was cake (I measured!). The cake was lovely, so dense and moist, it seemed to be laden with syrup or honey. The frosting on the other hand, hit my tongue like a sugar rush. It was much too sweet and slightly chalky, probably due to the confectioners sugar as a main ingredient. (I was expecting a rich buttercream.) It even had that hard sugar crust... I tasted very little of the natural sweetness of butter; it was mainly flavoring (amaretto and coconut). It would have been more enjoyable if there was a thinner layer of it.

For $3 a pop, these cupcakes were definitely pricey. I hear that on some days, if you get there an hour before they close, you can be just lucky enough to get the cakes at half off. So the next time I get a craving for some really delicious cake with super sweet frosting, I'll be sure to try and go after 5pm (they close at 6!).



The Baltimore Cupcake Co.
1433 East Fort Avenue
Baltimore, MD 21230

cucumber tea sandwiches

Yes, cucumber sandwiches, the kind that you must eat with your forefingers, and with your pinky finger sticking up into the air, along with your nose.

We attended a potluck champagne brunch on Sunday to which I brought these cucumber finger sandwiches and a batch of maple pecan scones. There's honestly nothing really exciting about cucumber sandwiches. If anything, they can come off quite stuffy and bland. But they are a classic, so in my mind, they must be kept alive, no matter how overdone they are. I've tried many different versions in the past, playing with various herbs and breads. I find that this recipe really hits a home run with the crowd, and it's really very simple and economical to make and feed a roomful of guests.

Some suggestions:

- use a firm cucumber; no need to seed
- use a soft, sweeter, multigrain bread (I prefer the Struan loaf from Atwater's: a whole-grain slightly sweet artisan bread made with buttermilk, cornmeal, and honey)
- chill sandwiches before cutting into smaller squares
- don't leave the crusts on; how uncouth!


Cucumber Tea Sandwiches
makers 16-20 finger sandwiches

1 medium firm cucumber
1 8-oz. package cream cheese, at room temperature
3 Tbsp mayonnaise
1 Tbsp dry Italian dressing mix
2 Tbsp fresh chopped parsley
8-10 slices soft multigrain sandwich bread

1. Peel and thinly slice cucumber on a mandoline or with a knife. Set aside.

2. Mix together cream cheese, mayonnaise, Italian dressing mix, and parsley. Let sit for about 30 minutes to let the flavors intensify.

3. Spread cheese mixture on a slice of bread. Add a thin layer of sliced cucumbers. Spread cheese on another slice of bread and press down firmly over the first slice. Repeat with the remaining pieces of bread. Refrigerate for 1 hour.

4. Remove and with a serrated knife, cut off the crusts from each sandwich, then slice into fourths.

lemongrass

There's always a buzz when a new hip Thai restaurant moves in, and from Annapolis! I'd heard much about Lemongrass, and it's sister restaurant Tsunami next door, actually first from my hairdresser (whose opinion I worship). Mr.S and I, who'd most likely be Thai reincarnates in another life, were intrigued, and decided to make a date of it two weekends ago.

There was a short wait for a table, so we plopped ourselves at the bar for a pre-dinner cocktail. First off, for the contemporary upscale "lounge" ambiance that Lemongrass was trying to impart, the staff sure was dressed down. The barstaff, and there were 3, were mismatched, wearing a range of wrinkled corduroys to wrap sweaters to Hane's white tees. The drink menu was interesting, offering a list of seemingly exotic ingredients mixed into martinis like kaffir lime leaves, blood orange juice, pear puree, etc etc with names like Bangkok Sunset... I ordered the Royal Tiger, which included Tangqueray Bangpur, blood orange bitters and muddled kaffir lime leaves. What was placed before me was neither very attractive nor very delectable. With the interesting ingredients, this drink could have great potential, but it just didn't hit the mark that night.

I'm not sure where the giant Buddha-like statue in the middle of the restaurant was looted from, but we walked past its enormity to the rear dining room, all very contemporary with its polished woods. It seemed like there was only two servers that night; we waited a long time to place our order and were not even offered glasses of water. Seeing as most of the tables were full and there were two large parties, we patiently waited and waited.

To start, we had the crispy string beans, lightly battered, fried, and coated with a sweet and spicy garlic sauce. Nothing to complain about here, it was delicious. The string beans were more tender than crisp, and I honestly would have eaten anything covered in that sauce.


Mr.S got the crispy duck as his entree, which was basically slices of duck breast, fried and covered in the same chili garlic sauce as the string beans. I was confused by the steamed veggies on the side; large slices of squash, snow peas, and broccoli that were way too bland and completely unnecessary. I looked around at other entree plates around us, and they seemed to adorn every plate!


My seafood red curry came in a large soup bowl. The flavors were good, and there was a medley of shrimp, scallops, and squid stewed with bamboo shoots, green pepper, and eggplant. My only complaint was it was too soupy to be called a curry, and the eggplant a bit undercooked.


If you're looking for an authentic Thai meal, Lemongrass should not be at the top of your list. There wasn't even a single Thai server or customer in the restaurant, and I seriously doubt any of their kitchen staff are of Thai lineage. The flavors were all there, maybe a bit too sweet at times, but the dishes were obviously lacking a precision and fine-tuning that the art of true Thai cuisine embodies. The vegetables, garnishes, and presentation were all too rough for the fine quality that these dishes should have had. Our meal surely didn't break the bank, but the prices were comparable to those of other Thai restaurants who offer a higher quality of food (i.e. Thai Restaurant and Thai Landing) Lemongrass is definitely selling its trendy and as they would like to call it "urban chic" atmosphere, but in order for that to be believable, the staff first needs to be better trained and secondly, more smartly dressed.

I would go back, but probably in a few weeks when some of the kinks have been smoothed out, if only for a Tiger Lager and a plate of those crispy string beans.



Lemongrass
1300 Bank Street
Baltimore, MD 21231

char siu pork sliders

It's a new year, and I've pledged to be less discriminating in my cooking choices. I'd much rather bake than cook, cook with veggies than with meat, and cook with poultry or seafood than pork and beef. So this year, in order to be more of a well balanced and better educated cook, I'm making a real effort to cast a wide net and explore new ingredients and methods that make me slightly trepidacious. So here's to a year of hopefully more pork, lamb, and offal recipes, more sky-high towering layer cakes, ethereally light and voluminous souffles, and eventually home brewed root beers and libations.

Char siu, or cha shao, is basically Chinese BBQ. It's sweet and smoky and glows a disturbingly bright red hue (all due to red dye no. 40), but it's so good it's addictive. If you've ever walked through Chinatown, you've probably caught a glimpse of pinkish-red cuts of pork dangling from hooks in small deli windows, all perfectly roasted with caramelized skin. A fattier cut of pork makes for a delicious product, but lean tenderloin can also be used. I prefer to eat my char siu cold, sandwiched in a steamed bun, or thinly sliced over a bowl of udon noodle soup. Here, I've taken it freshly roasted, and did a take on the traditional pulled pork sandwich, creating a Chinese style pork slider burger.

What's the appeal of the mini burger? Well, they are certainly fun to eat. More importantly, they're easy to eat, to pick up with one hand, instead of the requisite two hand Neanderthal grip on a monstrous double decker burger. Sliders are to the burger what dainty cupcakes are to the party-size sheet cake. We all love a gluttonous hunk of layer cake every now and then, but there is a bit of whimsy and refinement to a single serving mini cake. Similarly, when a burger gets downsized, it suddenly takes on a newfound lighthearted appeal. (Though I suppose gluttony can still apply when you eat a whole frickin' mountain of sliders.)


Char Siu Pork

2 lb pork loin or shoulder
3 Tbsp soy sauce
2 Tbsp oyster sauce
4 Tbsp Hoisin sauce
2 Tbsp Shaoxing cooking wine
2 Tbsp honey
2 Tbsp brown sugar
1 tsp five spice powder
1" piece fresh ginger, julienned
1 tsp red food coloring

1. Combine all the ingredients in a large quart-size plastic freezer bag. Seal, and gently massage the marinade into the meat. Refrigerate to let marinate for about 24 hours.

2. Preheat the oven to 425F. Lay the pork out onto the wire rack of a roasting pan. Pour enough water into the bottom pan so that it comes up to about 1/2" up the sides. (This creates a steam that keeps the meat juicy.) Roast for 15 minutes, then turn the oven down to 350F.**

3. Baste with the leftover marinade every 10 minutes. Roast for about 30-40 minutes or until the center of the cut registers 160F on an instant read thermometer.

4. Remove from oven, and let cool for 15 minutes. Slice and serve immediately or let come to room temperature and refrigerate for a later use.

** An alternative method to pan roasting would be to hang up the pork on S-hooks from the top rack of your oven over the dripping pan. This would be preferable for a fattier cut of meat in order to let the grease slowly drip out of the meat.

the bel-loc diner

Before I write anything else, I have to say that I'm really loving Scrapple. In all my years living in Baltimore, I've never disliked it, just never had the chance to eat it very often. It's hard to describe exactly what it is without turning some stomachs, but once you get over the ingredients, it's not so bad. There are far worse things out there for you, I'm sure. For someone who's grown up eating a lot of pork, Scrapple really isn't very startling. It's mostly cornmeal flavored with miscellaneous pig parts, the leftover pieces, hooves, skin, and innards, then shaped into a grayish block. How does this the go from packaging to your plate? Well, it's sliced thin, pan-fried until crisp, and served alongside eggs or on some toast, oftentimes drizzled with some maple syrup. (This has become my favorite way of ingesting this stuff.) To me, it has a strong livery taste, spiced with onions, and a slight sweetness of the cornmeal. Think of it as a blue-collar version of paté.

The most common brands you'll find in the supermarket are Esskay and Rapa (presumably most locals prefer Rapa brand). I'm partial to the original flavor, but you can also find hot and spicy, Scrapple with bacon, and beef Scrapple.

No, that's not whole wheat toast. That's pork product!

Most of the diners in and around Baltimore offer Scrapple. The Bel-Loc Diner is an institution, a step back straight into the 50's. It's the real deal, with the jukeboxes at each booth, the stainless steel milk machine contraption and a row of well-polished milkshake machines. The food literally comes out 5 minutes after you order from your waitress who will no doubt call you "Hon." And the toast is always served with a small saucer of Kraft butter pats and Welch's grape jelly trays. I had some of the best diner coffee here, strong and steaming hot.

Mr. S and I both had fried eggs, over easy, with hash potatoes and toast. He ordered an additional piece of Scrapple, which was sliced to the perfect thickness and fried crisp on the outside, soft in the middle. The potatoes had pieces that were well-browned and other huge chunks that were almost like they'd been boiled, all soft and buttery in texture. We ended up being too full to order any of their homemade desserts, namely apple and blueberry pie, lemon meringue pie, and carrot cake. The cakestands were also full of large tender muffins, from Costco. (If you've ever had a Costco muffin, you know they are pretty good and huge!) Next time we go, I'll have to try one of their milkshakes, which I hear have a following of their own.



Bel-Loc Diner
1700 E. Joppa Road
Baltimore, MD 21234

falafel

It was a night of indulgences. The last night of the passing year; anything goes. I asked Mr.S what he'd eat if it were his last meal in this lifetime, and he asked for a plate of my falafel with tzatziki sauce. Me, oddly riding the same chickpea vegetarian wavelength, asked him to make me a large batch of his chana masala. What was happening to us? Had the new year's resolution bug hit us a few days early? And so it came to pass that on the last night of 2007, we each cooked the other a dish-of-choice, to fully satisfy our cravings before the arrival of the new year with all its health kicks (not that it's ever stopped me...). What manifested on the table was a reflection of how our tastes have developed and changed over the past year, like a culinary journey that ends in discovering something altogether familiar and comforting. We both possess a strong inclination for heavily spiced, ethnically Eastern flavors.

I could't have asked for a better way to call it a year. What a satisfying way to enjoy dinner that's both oddly selfish and generous all at the same time. We both got the meal we each wanted and we were able to do the same for the other. Our varied dinner menu consisted of:

chana masala
falafel over mixed greens
tzatziki sauce
whole wheat pita
lychee martinis

Instead of using a boxed falafel mix like I did last time, I made these from scratch. They turned out beautifully, all tender and creamy soft on the inside, scented with cumin, coriander, and fresh cilantro. (The boxed mix usually yields hard little nuggets of lead weight chickpeas.) Though a bit more involved, this recipe still remains straightforward and simple. You'd be surprised at how many of the ingredients you already have in your pantry and fridge. I like my falafel pan-fried, but you can also shape these and bake them for a lower fat version.

In college, I'd always get the best falafel sandwiches from a small deli on St. Paul. It was a hoagie roll, stuffed with these falafel, lettuce, tomato, onion and mayo, grilled and pressed. Aladdin's Cafe in Locust Point also does a nice job with their falafel platter, well-spiced, and really affordable. But I believe the best version comes from your own kitchen. Whip up a quick batch of these, clear off the coffee table, throw some pillows on the floor, and light some candles.

Falafel
makes 10 medium patties

1 15-oz. can of garbanzo beans, rinsed and drained
1/4 cup fresh cilantro
1/4 cup fresh parsley
1 medium onion, rough chopped
3 cloves garlic
1 Tbsp lemon juice
1 egg
2 tsp ground cumin
1 tsp ground coriander
1 tsp cayenne pepper
1 tsp salt
1/2 tsp ground black pepper
1 tsp baking powder
1 Tbsp vegetable oil
3 Tbsp all-purpose flour
3/4 cup bread crumbs, plus extra for coating (I use Panko)

1. In a food processor, blend together cilantro, parsley, garlic, onion, and lemon juice. Strain to remove most of the liquid and spoon out into a large mixing bowl. Roughly puree the chickpeas and add to the herb/onion paste.

2. Add the remaining ingredients and mix until blended. The mixture should be sticky. Let sit for about 30 minutes.

3. Shape into small to medium size patties, and lightly roll in bread crumbs.

4. Heat 3-4 Tbsp oil in a skillet and fry the falafel 4-5 minutes on each side, until golden brown. Remove and drain on paper towels.