DRESSING THE ANIMAL

If I didn't cook, I'd die.

Dinner.

There is no doubt in my mind, much less in my heart, that I love to cook.  It's one of the few activities that makes me happy and lets me share myself with the rest of the world.  When life plain sucks, which it has lately, I cook more than I usually do, not only because I make the time, but because cooking makes life better.  One's quality of life improves when you cook.  Cooking is a process with a beginning, a middle and an end. It starts with the moment I realize I don't have all the ingredients, since that means I have to take a trip to the market.  There's not much to buy, just enough for the meal, but inspiration is everywhere.  If you're open to it, a tree will bring to mind that lazy afternoon you spent drinking a fiasco of cheap Chianti in Lucca underneath a canopy of old oaks.  A little girl on her way home from school will remind you of those Stella d'Oro cookies you used to eat as a kid yourself.  Sometimes a quick glance at the Hudson impresses me enough to alter my meal completely and go for seafood instead. 

Vanilla Orchid

 Ever wonder what vanilla looks like? 

Okay, so you've seen the long bean and surely you're familiar with the tiny seeds scraped from inside that flavor classic desserts such as creme brulee, creme caramel, and pots de creme (there's a pattern here), but did you know that the vanilla plant actually blooms into an orchid?  Not just any orchid.  In fact, I did some research into the matter as I was desperately sourcing this elusive flower for a recent photo shoot and it turns out the vanilla orchid is a rare species indeed.  

From Wikipedia:

Blooming occurs only when the flowers are fully grown. Each flower opens up in the morning and closes late in the afternoon on the same day, never to re-open. If pollination has not occurred meanwhile, it will be shed. The flowers are self-fertile but need pollinators to perform this task. The flowers are presumed to be pollinated by stingless bees (e.g. Melipona) and certain hummingbirds, which visit the flowers primarily for nectar. Hand pollination is the most reliable method in commercially grown Vanilla.

And with that, I think we should all be infinitely more appreciative when eating vanilla ice cream or a vanilla cake with creme anglaise or pasty cream or anything else with vanilla--real vanilla--included.  Mmm... vanilla.

A yoyo ain't nothing but a sandwich.

One of my favorite things to make in a kitchen is a sandwich.  I mean a thick, meaty sandwich that’s crunchy, crispy, meaty, tender and juicy, served on two slabs of firm, fragrant bread that’s neither tough nor soggy, with vegetables to balance out the meal.   In the right hands, a sandwich is a timeless work of art and a portable comfort food. 

Sandwiches aren’t just for lunch; they’re eaten for breakfast and served with afternoon tea; they fed the railyard workers along the West Side and poor striking boys in New Orleans; they are small enough to pick up with two fingers and can be as tall as a man. Sandwiches are universal and regional:  tell me what you call them and I’ll tell you where you’re from:  hoagie? hero?  sub?  New Yorkers love their pastrami on rye at Katz’s while in Philly, the cheesesteak reigns supreme (and who knows which battle is more heated:  Pat’s vs. Geno’s or New York vs. Philly as the birthplace of the HERO).  But if you want to try something new and exciting, with flavors that will transport you to the lush tropical forests and beaches of Venezuela, then try the yoyos atCachapas Y Mas.  

First, this is a yoyo:

No bread here, since the yoyo is a sandwich native to Venezuela, where the plantain rules.   A yoyo starts with a deep fried ripened plantain— a maduro, NOT a toston— in place of bread. One would think the fried plantain would be too soft to support the grilled meats, juices and special sauces that go into this sandwich, but the yoyo solves this problem by being stuffed with cheese, dipped in a batter, and fried until golden and crispy.  Now it’s firm enough to hold the grilled chicken or pernil with their spicy juices blanketed with two special sauces with fresh green leaf lettuce and ripe tomatoes.  The plantains give the sandwich a sweet taste with a crisp texture, while the inside is savory, tender and so juicy, you reach for a napkin after each bite.  It’s not a sloppy sandwich, per se, but the yoyo is so rich you’ll find yourself licking each finger between each bite. 

If the yoyo looks and sounds similar to a patacon (or jibarito, if you’re Puerto Rican), then you’re headed in the right track, except that the patacon is made with tostones (twice-fried plantains) and not at all dipped in batter.  This renders the patacon completely different in flavor and texture and is therefore another type of sandwich, although equally as delicious.  Sometimes it’s difficult to choose between the two, but I tend to order the yoyo for lunch and the patacon for dinner since it pairs well with a mojito.   All in all, both the yoyoand the patacon are unique sandwiches full of flavor, opening up the possibilities of sandwichdom.  Go beyond the bread and head for Cachapas Y Mas to try them for yourself.

Savory Tart Shell Dough

What better way to relieve the winter blues than with a tart.  This basic recipe for a savory tart shell dough is a great way to get the body moving while making a great meal. I learned this recipe while in school and it's a shell suitable for all manner of savory fillings.  You'll want to keep this basic recipe in your archives of Can't-Live-Without-This-Basic-Recipe, for whenever yo have a yearning for a tart.  Keep in mind, any type of pastry demands a lot of work, but the rewards make all the labor worthwhile.  

On Secrets to Cooking.

I cook, to appropriate a phrase, on the shoulders of giants who came before me. I truly believe that chefs are inherently generous in nature. We feed, nurture and soothe. Our clients are not customers, but guests; we see our dining rooms as an extension of our own homes. We celebrate conviviality and community through food. There’s a reason it’s called the hospitality business, right? So why should we guard our intellectual, creative and technical ideas from one another?

-- Michael Laiskonis, in this article.

Seasoning Station

Chef Ilario is one of those figures whose impact on my life can be measured in the small details that inform my everyday cooking and one of the most valuable lessons in kitchen organization he taught me was organizing all manner of salts into a bar caddy.  Normally, this is where the bartender places the maraschino cherries, lime and lemon wedges and olives but having a bar caddy for your salts is much more handy than having a salt pig when you're cooking.   Your cooking will improve since you're more likely to properly season your food, a skill every cook must possess.