I don’t often go to Youtube for recipes or recipe ideas, but there are two exceptions in the past few months.  The first is Cooking With Dog.  I don’t understand why there’s a dog.  I don’t understand why it seems like the dog is narrating the whole procedure while some woman does all the work.

I made these a while back for dessert after the Okonomiyaki dinner.  The video makes them look very easy, but they are a lot of work with a lot of short windows of opportunity where things can get really screwed up.  Of course, I had to make this as hard as possible for myself, so I made my own anko or sweet red bean (azuki or adzuki) paste first.  The recipe I used was from a book I had out from the library, Japanese Cooking: A Simple Art.

I love learning traditional ways of making things, and going through the process to make anko the old-fashioned way was enlightening.  I don’t have the cookbook I referenced anymore (I borrowed it from the library back in May), so I may be remembering the steps wrong.  If you love making anko, please send along your tips, tricks, and recipes.  You start by taking azuki beans and soaking and boiling them in water, just like most other bean preparations.  Next you mash, smash, puree the beans until they are as smooth as you want.  You can then reserve some to leave whole if you wish, but I made a smooth bean paste.  Then you thoroughly drain and “rinse” the mashed beans.  It was a strange step, something I’ve never done before, but it washed away some of the excess starchiness of the beans.  You do all of that in a flour sack cloth, and then wring it dry.  What you end up with looks like a really dry, crumbly reddish paste.  You can see it in the picture here.  Then you add back a little water, a bunch of sugar and heat it up until it’s all dissolved and it becomes shiny and smooth again.  It does have a beany taste, but the slight sweetness reminds you that it’s dessert.

Once the anko has been made (or, more often, purchased), you envelop the strawberries with it.  You want to made sure your strawberries are clean and completely dry, otherwise the anko will slip around instead of sticking like you see in the video.

The mochi dough is made with sweet rice flour (also known as glutinous rice flour).  It’s not actually sweet, nor does it contain gluten, it’s just referring to the different type of starch in the glutinous rice it’s made from (sticky amylopectin instead of amylose).  The most popular and widely available brand that I’ve seen and heard of is Mochiko.  You basically mix it with sugar and water to make a sweet pasty slurry then steam it for a while.  Once it’s been cooked it is very sticky and stretchy.  The texture is unique, and changes quickly.  As it dries, it firms up and will not stick together well any more, so despite being way too hot to handle with your hands, you have to divide the dough and carefully cover the anko-covered strawberries.  Place on corn starch (or powdered sugar) so that they don’t stick, but brush off the excess as it can make the outside too dry.  You can see my mochi that I made… they’re messy and misshapen.  The small ones just have the anko inside (no strawberry).

They are really a treat.  As you bite into them, you pass through the chewy layer of mochi dough and the sweet sticky azuki bean paste to get to the strawberry inside.  The mochi dough is nice, but it’s really just a containment system for the filling.  The strawberry and red bean flavors combine into something that is definitely greater than the sum of the parts.  This recipe is not for the faint of heart, but if you’re feeling adventurous (or see ichigo daifuku in a store or restaurant near you), give them a try.

Our local co-op, Common Ground, is in touch with the past as well as the present.  In addition to being in touch with local producers and local products in a way modern grocery stores can’t (or won’t), they embrace the benefits of new technology.  In this case, I’m referring to Twitter (they’re @cg_food_coop), which is where I found out that they got a bundle of chanterelles.  This is not a mushroom normally seen in grocery stores, even the big boys that carry a wider range of “exotic” mushrooms.

Chanterelles (genus Cantharellus) are very pretty mushrooms.  They are also (or at least these ones were) very dirty.  I had to really work to clean them without destroying them.  Though some people advise against washing mushrooms, most mushrooms do not readily absorb liquid.  You doubt me?  Go watch Alton Brown testing the myth at about two minutes into this video from Good Eats episode “The Fungal Gourmet” on YouTube.

I love mushrooms.  You may have noticed that from my previous post at Smile Politely on “Morel Mushroom Madness“.  Even plain, white, bland, boring, button mushrooms can be elevated to greatness with some (okay a lot of) butter, salt, and pepper.  But there are plenty of mushrooms that just aren’t as ubiquitous as the white button mushroom.  Most of these are rare because they don’t keep long enough to sell in grocery stores, but some just don’t give in to commercial cultivation.  Morels and chanterelles are two prime examples of mushrooms that won’t grow well in captivity.

I recently got a review copy of the book “Edible Wild Mushrooms of Illinois and Surrounding States” by Joe McFarland and Gregory M. Mueller, and I’ve been browsing through it from time to time.  The book’s glossy pages are stuffed with hundreds of great fungi photos.  Many of these illustrate important identifying characteristics, but some, like the cover photo of a yellow chanterelle, are just beautifully photographed vignettes showcasing where they occur naturally.  The book has tons of information about all sorts of mushroom species.  Not only will it tell you the standard where they’re found and how to make sure they aren’t a toxic look-alike, but there are 45 pages of recipes from Illinois chefs.

The entry for chanterelles shows the humor and tone of the book–as though the authors are your friends telling you their stories from years of experience (of which they both have an abundance).

“Chanterelles have a reputation bordering on the impossible.  They can’t possibly be as good as their reputation implies.  Yet great chefs everywhere worship chanterelles–a truly wild mushroom that cannot yet be cultivated.” (p. 99)

I can tell you from my experience that chanterelles are very good.  They have, as the book describes, a “pleasantly delicate, buttery flavor.”  I had on hand another useful book, the Flavor Bible, which told me that chanterelles have a good synergy with garlic, green onions, and cream.  I went with a light cream sauce, a bechamel actually.

Bechamel is one of the fastest, easiest, and most useful mother sauce from French cuisine.  You’ve probably made it before and didn’t even know it.  To boil it down to it’s roots, it’s a light roux (equal parts butter and flour, cooked a couple minutes) with dairy added, usually milk.  Want it thicker?  Make more roux.  Want it thinner?  Add more milk.  Bechamel goes great layered into lasagna.  When I make fettucini alfredo, I usually make a bechamel, then add some cheese to it (which transforms it into a Mornay sauce).  By making a creamy sauce with flour and milk, you’re getting the same unctuous mouthfeel that you would get by using heavy cream, but with far fewer calories.  It’s easy and fits into recipes like this very easily.  You’ll see how in a minute.

Campanelle with Creamy Chanterelles

serves 2 to 3

The chanterelles I had were pretty small, so I just had to cut a few of the larger ones in half.  If yours are large, you may need to cut them into thirds or quarters, but cut top to bottom to preserve the beautiful natural curve of the mushroom.

• 1/2 pound of campanelle pasta (or use whatever shape you like)
• 2T olive oil
• 2T butter
• 2 cloves garlic, sliced
• 3 green onions, sliced on the bias into fine rings
• 5 oz (or more) cleaned mushrooms, cut into large bite-size pieces, chanterelle, oyster, or shiitake would be best
• 2T flour
• 1c milk
• crumbled goat cheese (optional)
• shredded Parmesan cheese (optional)

1. Cook your pasta according to the package directions.
2. Heat the oil and butter over medium heat.  Don’t let the butter brown.
3. Add the garlic and stir for 30 seconds.
4. Add most of the green onions, reserving some of the green for garnish.
5. Saute for just a minute or two until the garlic and green onions soften slightly.
6. Add the mushrooms and sautee for just two to three minutes until they begin to soften.
7. Sprinkle the flour over the contents of the pan and stir in thoroughly.  Cook for a minute.
8. Pour in the milk while stirring.
9. Continue stirring as the mixture comes back to a boil to ensure a smooth sauce.
10. TASTE, and season with salt and pepper.
11. Add the cooked pasta to the pan with your sauce and toss to combine.
12. Remove from heat and plate in pasta bowls.
13. (optional) Add crumbles of goat cheese and/or a sprinkle of Parmesan.
14. Garnish with green onions.

Campanelle are a really adorable little flower-shaped pasta that holds onto just the right amount of sauce for this dish.  It also matched the size of the chanterelles nicely.  The sauce was creamy and flavorful, but not too strong that you couldn’t taste the mushrooms.

This post is published at Smile Politely.  I recommend you go there to see it in its true glory.

Weisswurst, blaukraut, and potatoes… oh my!

Or you could go to the next page.

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I have a problem.  I read a post by one of the premier local food bloggers, Lisa at Champaign Taste.  She was trying to make something following a recipe from the famous, award-winning Chez Pim.  It was a dish that I’ve loved having many times at restaurants–pad see ew.  Basically it’s some wide, flat rice noodles cooked up with soy sauce, broccoli, and some sort of protein.  Lisa didn’t have very good luck with the recipe.  You can read about it in her post, titled Thai Food Fiasco: An Attempt at Pad See Ew.  My problem is that I felt the need to do it right.

It’s not that Lisa did anything wrong, just that I had to see if I could do it.  I have often found myself cooking different dishes because of this very compulsion.  I’ve cooked some pretty bad things in my life, and I’m not sure if I’d be brave enough to publish the story and photos on this blog for the world to see.  As far as you know all the food I put out looks beautiful in real life and tastes even better than you imagined, right?

So, back to the pad see ew.  Lisa’s only issue was the noodles, so I was worried.  It seemed like she followed Pim’s instructions to soak them, but they just stuck together in a huge ball.  I picked the (dry) noodles that most resembeled what I’d eaten in various restaurants.  It looks like they’re similar to what Lisa was working with.

I chopped my chicken, got it marinating, then started chopping broccoli (which always makes me think of Dana Carvey) into bite-sized pieces.  According to Pim, the noodles were supposed to soak “in lukewarm water until pliable but not soft.”  This, I think is where things can go wrong.  I put my noodles in hot tap water, left them alone for a good 15 minutes, and while slightly softened, they were still quite stiff.  I came to the conclusion that they needed to be at least partly cooked (i.e. boiled) before moving on or they’d never really soften.

I boiled them for a few minutes, half the time the package said to cook them.  They were soft, but definitely still a firm “al dente.”  So, I cooked the broccoli in a pan (I don’t have a wok yet), then it was time for the noodles.  I heated the pan, added a little more oil, let it get hot, then tossed in the well-drained noodles.  I let them sit for a few seconds, then drizzled in the fish sauce and thick soy.  The noodles were sticky, but still slightly manageable.  The noodles didn’t stick together in a big ball though, I was thrilled.  Then I noticed that they did, however, stick to the bottom of the pan.  More heat (in a wok), and more oil would have probably helped, but I extracted the noodles and went on my way.

The rest of the cooking went well, just like Lisa’s did.  In finishing the dish, I needed to add far more of the sauces than what Pim suggested to get the flavor I was expecting.  Maybe my taste buds are too tired, or the recipe really is, in more ways than one, “for beginners.”

Comparing my finished dish to Pim’s, mine is definitely “wetter”, but I would imagine that had I not added the extra soy, oyster, and fish sauces it would have been too bland.  I also really needed to add more noodles, but given my trepidation about screwing them up in the first place, I’m glad I didn’t try to sneak more in without proper soaking & cooking.  All in all a good dish, but it makes me really want a wok, to get what I was really missing–wok hay, the breath of a wok.

Wikipedia tells me that Theobroma, the “food of the gods”, is a small genus of plants native to Central and South American tropical forests. The one species we all are familiar with is the cacao tree, Theobroma cacao. After growing for at least four or five years, this tree produces fruit (pods) with seeds (cocoa beans) that are fermented, dried, and then finally roasted to develop the flavors we associate with chocolate. In an average year, an average tree will only produce enough seeds to make about 4.4 pounds of chocolate. According to the World Atlas of Chocolate, Americans consume over 11 pounds of chocolate per year.

Most people don’t think too much about the chocolate they eat. After all, you can get pounds of the stuff in the checkout lane in every grocery store. There’s a difference, though, between chocolate and candy. While many still cling to the overly-sweet candy put out by so many huge manufacturers, the purists are finding more and more high-quality bars available.

Chocolate has progressed in this country to something that, for some people, is like learning about wines. Different regions of the world have different climates, they may grow different cacao varieties (there are 3 main varieties), the beans may be processed differently. All of these things may bring out a different character in the cacao. More companies are now making “single origin” bars, sourcing beans from a single source instead of blending from a wider range.

You may have noticed bars with cacao percentages, indicating the ratio of cocoa solids in them. They can go from 0% (white chocolate) to 100% (baking chocolate). Other than cocoa solids, chocolate bars should only contain a few other ingredients: sugar, cocoa butter, vanilla, and milk solids for milk chocolate. Personally, I like dark chocolate. My usual choices are in the 62-74% cacao range.

No cacao grows in the USA, but across the country, there are a number of companies making “bean-to-bar” chocolate. Many companies will just buy chocolate, maybe add some flavorings, and then pour it into their own molds. There’s nothing wrong with this, there are plenty of great chocolate makers putting out great products. A very small, but growing, number of people are making chocolate using traditional methods and equipment from single origin chocolate in small batches.

I recently heard about a local guy who was interested in this. His name is Dan Schreiber, and he’s a grad student at the local University. He started a project on Kickstarter, a site where entrepreneurs can go to put out their ideas and get some start-up funds to make them happen. You can visit his project via the link on the right. The basic idea is that he’s asking for start-up funds to purchase the equipment he’ll need to be able to make artisan chocolate.

His goals are modest, to make great chocolate bars by hand and start distributing them locally. From my correspondence with him, his passion for this is clear. Like other local artisans, like Larbo from This Little Piggy, Dan is driven to revive old traditions and make something great. His journey will involve some learning along the way, but as he pointed out to me, even some of the bigger producers of fine chocolate, like Scharffen Berger and Patric Chocolate started out in a kitchen.

One of the benefits to supporting people like Dan is that we build on our local wealth of knowledge. Perhaps in the future, our town will be able to support a kitchen incubator to give food entrepreneurs a way to get their products to market faster. With the numbers of people interested in slow, local, artisanal products around here, I’m sure that will happen eventually.

I would urge everyone interested to click and donate some money to Dan’s project. You can donate as little as $1, but for $10 you will get some free chocolate when it’s ready. Every little bit helps. It may be a while before Dan has perfected his methods and finalized packaging, but I hope to see his products in coffee shops and other stores in the area before too long. My first request beyond a great dark chocolate bar would be something using flavors inspired by Indian cuisine with balance and subtlety.