Wacky Dinner Number One

So I had this idea: I like to cook, I like to feed people, I like making up recipes just to see what happens, and I like talking about these wacky recipes with the people I am feeding while we are all in the middle of eating said funky foodstuffs. In other words, I decided to invite a few people over to be guinea pigs to my mad culinary experiments. And I am truly flattered that they agreed to come and did so with with high expectations. But enough about the idea, on to the food. How's this for a meal? (Delicious photos by Smita.)

I started with a risotto - but one based entirely on basic Japanese ingredients. Instead of using olive oil to saute and brown the rice, I used sesame oil. Instead of vegetable or meat stock I used a broth from smoked bonito, sardine, and kelp with some white miso paste for texture and flavour depth and a little bit of ginger. Instead of wine I used mirin. The vegetables were kabocha squash and shiitake mushrooms. And to garnish, black sesame seeds, super-finely sliced shiso, and soy sauce. I still used arborio rice for texture, and I also used a very little cheese to hold it together - a very light-flavoured hard Mahon.
The entire recipe was my attempt at a sort of macro-scale fusion recipe. I wanted to see if the texture of risotto could be successfully combined with entirely Japanese flavour. I'm excited that the result is a resounding "yes!" The mouth-feel of this experiment was exactly the same as my more traditional risotto recipes, but the taste was of a sweet miso-mushroom soup with the umami of soy, toasty overtones of sesame, and sweet earthy bites of squash. The greatest, yet most subtle, change was definitely the liquids. It was hard to really identify how the fish stock and miso differed from chicken or vegetable stock, but the effect on the final dish is great. I think the european-style stocks have much more onion, carrot, garlic, and savory herbs than their Japanese counterparts. Mirin is also worlds apart from white wine - much sweeter and with slightly beery flavour. I think that's why the dish came out sweet - next time I'll use less.

Making this dish gave me a great excuse to go to Uwajimaya, the glorious Japanese supermarket. Since I don't read Japanese, figuring out which is the right dried soup base to use and how to use it, or which miso paste is which, is always fun - involving deciphering packaging diagrams and finding numbers in the directions from which to interpret measurements, timing, and whether something might kill you if eaten wrong.

The second course was a pork tenderloin, rubbed with a paste made from cocoa nibs from Theo Chocolate, wild peppercorns, sugar, olive oil, sage, paprika, and cumin. I ground the spices and chocolate with a mortar and pestle, adding a little olive oil at a time until the paste became the consistency of a dense chocolate mousse. Plain, the mixture tasted tart and nutty, with a little heat from the paprika and pepper and some dusty warmth from the sage. Rubbing it on the pork smelled like paprika and chocolate. Baking it smelled like cumin plus some sweet smoke. And eating it was a very mild nutty aftertaste to the pork, which I slightly overcooked. It looked really good, but wasn't as richly flavoured as I'd hoped. Perhaps marinating in the rub overnight would have allowed the flavours to penetrate and develop. So the verdict: tasty, but a little mundane.
The accompaniment to the pork was shaved par-boiled golden beets with sea salt, pepper, and truffle oil. Boiling the beets made them not quite so crunchy, but I kept some firmness by not boiling too long and then immediately chilling the beets in cold water. Shaved vegetables are fun to arrange because they are so malleable and delicate. These came out looking like fluffy yellow roses on the plate. And they tasted sweet and grassy at the same time - the salt magnifying the sweetness, the pepper adding a little tart twinge, and the truffle oil smoothing out the texture and rounding out the taste. I also used some leftover shiso to garnish this plate, and the shiso went surprisingly well with the beets - a cool and herbal complement to the sweetness of the beet.

The next course was dumplings (ravioli, really) of goat cheese, carrot, and onion. I grated the carrot and onion with the brilliant multi-purpose "Kitchen Mama" tool I got at Daiso. This grater produces basically a rough paste of anything put to it (including knuckles, I'm sorry to say.) When you pulverize vegetables to such an extent, lots of the liquid comes out. As I didn't want the filling to be watery anyway, I used a looseleaf tea bag to squeze off all excess moisture. Cheesecloth would work, too, but more stuff sticks to it and the tea bag was already a convenient pouch-shape. Note, as well, that when you grate onion it's that much more potent - whew! I mixed the drained carrot and onion with plain fresh goat cheese and a little salt and pepper.
As wonderful as it is to hand-make dumpling skins, this is where I decided to cut a corner. I found, after much searching, locally-made, freshly-packed shu-mei skins that did not contain all of the preservatives and stabilizers common to nationally-distributed ones. They're basically just a delicate circular noodle. You put a bit of filling in the middle, run a wet finger around the edge, fold in half, and press opposite edges together to make a little fat half-moon. Honestly, you could put anything in them (and I intend to try!) I fried the finished dumplings in canola oil though you can steam them, too. Shu-mei skins are very delicate so these were finished quickly - puffy, crisp and golden once I finally got the oil temperature right. Next time I'll use a thermometer so I can tell you what "right" really was, though I'm sure you can find lots of frying info online. There wasn't actually much taste of carrot, despite the amount I used. The cheese was dominant, with a little onion and a little sweetness reminiscent of fresh carrot juice.

Sponge candy was completely unknown to me until I started looking for a way to reproduce the core of the Whopper. No, not the hamburger - that I can do. I mean that mysteriously crisp and malty candy covered in chocolate. There are al sorts of approximations out there, but the one that seems to hold the most promise is sponge candy. As I mentioned, I'd never heard of it, but when I told my mother she exclaimed, "Oh yeah, like honeycomb. I love honeycomb! Oh, can we please make some when you come home for Thanksgiving?!" So it appears I missed something. That, or it was popular in the 1950s. Likely the latter, since candymaking is something of a vanishing art.
It is very simple: sugar, vinegar, and baking soda. Remind anyone of science-project volcanoes? When you mix the baking soda into the vinegar-primed melted sugar, and stir like crazy, you get lots of little expanding bubbles trapped in the sugar. When you pour out the sugar into an oiled baking dish and let it cool, it hardens into a delicate, crunchy sugar matrix (that you break apart by hitting it with a hammer!) To get it malty, I added malt powder mixed with the baking soda. Malt powder is basically another type of dried, crystallized sugar (maltose, among a few others.) But it has that very distinctive flavour (of Whoppers!) Suffice to say, I, too, ow love sponge candy, especially malted. I'm going to try another batch with more malt and also using the recommended half-sugar-half-corn syrup mixture (which should enable me to get the molten sugar to hard-crack temperature with less browning and also enable a lighter, fluffier candy when hardened.) But still: yum!, especially when dipped in leftover cream cheese frosting from birthday-cake adventures.
Last of the evening was a nightcap. A fabulous bar called Knee High Stocking Company makes a drink called the "St. James Cooler" that is a mixture of Jameson whiskey, St. Germain elderflower liqueur, lemonade, mint, and soda. I've had it. It is delicious and refreshing. And it inspired me to try a similar concoction, though a calmer version. I mixed 1 measure Powers' Whiskey, 1/2 measure Extra Dry White Vermouth, 2 Tablespoons elderflower concentrate ("Fladersaft" from Ikea, of all places), and a dash (1/8 tsp) lavender vodka that I made last year. More on the vodka some other time. Shake up that mixture with ice and serve neat. Refreshing and relaxing at the same time. I think it could be good both before and after dinner.

So that was the feast. I loved making it and my friends loved eating it and ultimately that's what it's all about.

RECIPES:

JAPANESE RISOTTO
1 C Arborio rice
3 T Sesame oil
3 C Fish stock
1 C Mirin
Double-handful Shiitake mushrooms, sliced
Double-handful Kabocha squash, cubed
1/3 C White Miso
1/3 C Mahon cheese, grated
Garnish:
Shiso Leaf, finely sliced
Black Sesame Seeds
Soy Sauce

1. Over medium-high heat, toast rice in sesame oil until rice is slightly transparent and starting to brown.
2. Add 2 C fish stock and squash, reduce heat to low, and simmer, stirring frequently.
3. When most liquid gone, add remaining stock, mirin and mushrooms. Continue simmering and stirring.
4. When all liquid gone, add cheese and stir to melt.
Garnish servings with shiso, soy sauce and sesame seeds.

CHOCOLATED-PEPPERCORNED PORK TENDERLOIN
1 Pork Tenderloin (they're mostly about the same size).
2 T Cocoa Nibs
1 T Sugar
1 T Wild Peppercorns
2 T Olive Oil
1/4 t Cumin, ground
1/2 t Paprika, ground
1 t Sage, ground

1. Grind the cocoa nibs and sugar to a paste in a mortar and pestle.
2. Add peppercorns and some oil and grind to paste.
3. Add herbs and a little more oil. Grind into paste.
4. Add a little more oil and grind fast until the paste becomes aerated and almost a mousse.
5. Trim pork and rub with paste.
6. Bake at 350 until just center is still pink.
7. Remove from oven, cover with foil, and rest for 10 mins.

GOLDEN BEET FLOWERS
Golden Beets
Sel Gris
Truffle Oil

1. Bring a pot of water to a boil.
2. Peel the beets and boil them whole until a knife slides in easily, but not all the way through.
3. Pour water from pot and then set under cold running tap to cool beets.
4. Remove beets from cold water when cool, dry, and shave with mandoline.
Mound on plate and garnish with salt and oil.

CARROT-ONION DUMPLINGS
Shu-Mei Skins
2 Carrots
1 Onion, small
1/3 C Goat Cheese, fresh and plain
Salt and Pepper

1. Grate carrots and onion.
2. Mix with cheese and season to taste (not too much salt.)
3. Place a teaspoon of filling into the middle of a wrapper, moisten the edge of the wrapper with a finger dipped in water, fold over and press wrapper edges together. Try not to leave much empty space inside the dumpling - they can pop when cooked.
4. Fry in your oil of choice. Cook a few at a time to keep oil at the same temperature.

MALTED SPONGE CANDY
(This is the recipe as it should be, not exactly as I tried it the first time.)
1 C Sugar
1 C Corn Syrup
1 T White Vinegar
1 T Baking Soda
1/3 C or more Malt Powder (You can get different kinds from any homebrew supply store - I used amber.)

1. Grease a glass baking dish. (Some recipes say use metal and butter but I had good luck with Corningware greased with canola oil.)
2. Heat sugar, vinegar and corn syrup slowly, stirring constantly. Use a pot of at least 2 quarts to allow for expansion.
3. Pre-mix baking soda and malt powder (I've yet to try adding the malt powder earlier or changing the amount of baking soda or vinegar.)
4. When the molten sugar reaches 300-310 degrees Farenheit (hard-crack candy stage) pour in the powder and mix like mad while the mixture inflates.
5. When well mixed and puffed, pour into the greased pan.
6. When cool, break with mallet. Eat plain or dipped in delicious things.
(Note, some recipes say that while the candy is cooling it can be scored so that it will break into even pieces. I'll have to try that.)

Odds and Ends

Sometimes after work I arrive home to an unfriendly and mostly empty refrigerator that does not readily offer up any particularly obvious tasty morsels for dinner. On such days the fridge does not so much lurk in a corner - like the one conjured by Douglas Adams to terrorize the kitchen of his 'Holistic Detective', Dirk Gently - but it does exert a somewhat chilling influence on the atmosphere of the kitchen and on my spirits at the end of a tiring day. And a barren fridge certainly does not dull an emptiness of stomach, either.

Before getting too carried away with the bleak imagery, let me clarify. On the particular evening in question, my refrigerator contained the following: one bunch of rather old asparagus, four ageing rutabaga, three partially-finished bottles of wine of varying ages, some jam, half a carton of Trader Joe's vegetable broth, some gouda cheese, and a bottle or two of beer. (Let's ignore for the present that some consider beer a suitable substitute for dinner, especially in the case of Guinness, shall we?) So technically my fridge was not empty, but neither did any of the above seem to make much of a warm or comforting, let alone tasty, meal.
One of the media that seems to lend itself well to combining odd combinations of ingredients is risotto, with the added benefit of its making a generally savory and satisfying meal. I had some arborio rice in the cupboard so I set about to make Odds and Ends Risotto, which I imagine I will make again, at some point, with completely different results dependent on my refrigerator's capricious whim. Risotto is also wonderful in its essential simplicity - one cup of rice, a splash of olive oil, and four cups of liquid are all that are necessary for the base, taking about half an hour and almost no work. Where the adventure begins is when choosing what to use for liquid and also what else you want to throw in the pan.

A typical liquid mixture is three cups chicken stock and one cup white wine. Recipes abound for what vegetables are best and how best to pre-cook them, when to mix them in, what cheeses are best, &c. so I suggest you poke around a bit to see what other people have tried, too. Or you can try something like this:

For liquid, I used the remainder of the vegetable broth, the remainder of my white wine, and the remainder of my red wine, since that added up to just about four cups. For the vegetables, I rescued and chopped the few salvageable asparagus spears (about one and a half cups chopped) and also cut up two of the rutabaga into half-inch cubes (about 2 cups chopped.) Oh, and some of the gouda to make it all stick together a bit more at the end. An odd mixture, to be sure, but I hoped that the asparagus would give the dish an earthy yet fresh and green taste, the rutabaga a subtle sweetness and a little crispness, the red wine a bit of warmth, and the aged gouda a slightly tart and lemony tang.

The easy way to make risotto involves little more than heating rice and olive oil in a heavy saucepan until the rice becomes a little translucent and golden, and then throwing in the liquid and simmering until all the liquid is gone, stirring occasionally. The more labour-intensive method is to slowly add the liquid a bit at a time and simmer and stir constantly until the bit you added has been absorbed before adding more. This latter method certainly allows for more precision in determining the final texture of the dish, but does not allow for either cooking vegetables in with the rice (as I did with the rutabaga and asparagus) or for doing anything else while you wait hand and foot on the risotto pan. So I cooked everything together, tossing in the rutabaga shortly after pouring in the liquid at the beginning (they do well with a nice long simmer), and waiting until I thought it had about five minutes to go before adding the asparagus so it wouldn't overcook.

The result was tasty, and also a funny purple color which I don't normally associate with risotto - especially dotted with orange and green as it was by the vegetables. And it tasted much as expected, which only added to the satisfaction of the meal. Thankfully the vegetables remained crisp, not overcooked, which was a good contrast of texture, too. Next time, who knows what hidden gems the lurking fridge may contain.


ODDS AND ENDS RISOTTO
This is an intentionally general recipe, for use as a springboard into the waters of delicious unknown risottos.

1 C Arborio Rice
3 T Olive Oil (if you need more to coat the rice completely, add more)
4 C Liquid (Generally around 3 C Stock of some kind and 1 C wine)
½ C Grated Hard Cheese, though I imagine blue or goat cheese could also be mighty tasty. (Optional, but highly recommended.)
3 C (approximate) Other Stuff (This could be vegetables such as I used or pre-cooked sausage or other meats, or a combination.)
Herbs, Spices, Salt, Pepper to taste.
1-2 T Butter (if you want it to be really rich!)

Combine olive oil and rice in heavy saucepan over medium heat, stirring to make sure all rice is coated in oil, until rice is translucent and starting to turn a golden-brown (2-5 minutes.) Add liquid and bring to boil. As soon as it boils, turn down to a simmer (still bubbling, but small, gentle ones.) Simmer uncovered, stirring occasionally to make sure the botom doesn't stick, until all liquid is absorbed (about 20 minutes.) Add cheese (and butter if you're using it) and stir until melted in.

If using vegetables:
Root Vegetables: Chop into half-inch to one-inch cubes and toss in as soon as the liquid boils.
Squash/Zucchini/Mushrooms: Cut into slightly larger pieces and toss in about half-way (after simmering the rice for 8 minutes or so.)
More Delicate Vegetables: Chop as you like and add closer to the end. Add the vegetables later than you think you should because they will continue to cook after you take the pan off the heat.

If using meat:
Cook the meat beforehand, at least partially, to make sure it is fully cooked when the risotto is done. Sausage, bacon, pork or poultry are good, shellfish, too, though I've never tried it myself. Not sure what I think about beef or fish - if you try it, leave a comment with directions. Mix the meat in near the end if you want it to retain its own flavour and a different texture (like crispy bacon or sausage), or earlier if it has a strong flavour you want to impart to the overall dish.

Serves 4-6.