What's in a burger?

What is a burger? Is it a beefy lump of beef with extra beef and nothing else, except maybe ketchup? Or is it simply a type of sandwich wherein some form of primary meaty substance (hot) is placed between two pieces of a bread-like carrying vehicle, with or without buffer areas of cheese, leafy or unleafy vegetables, and/or sauces of various kinds? Such is the fundamental and existential question I faced in preparation for dinner tonight.

A brief background explanation: My friends and I get together roughly weekly for a themed potluck dinner. Not everyone can make every week, and people have joined or left the active group as their lives have brought them to town or taken them away again. But the dinners have been occurring regularly going on five years. The formula is simple: each week a different person hosts, and each week the host chooses the theme. Over time, we've all become better cooks and had our share of transcendent glory and epic failure. But mostly we just have a good time. And the themes are really what make the food special - it's a challenge and an enticement to experimentation, and it has made for some rather interesting meals. (Please feel free to replicate - it's awesome.)

So, tonight: The theme was "Gastro-diner," like gastropub, only diner food. The explanation was, and I quote, "Your favorite diner foods, dialed up to eleven." (Totally in character for the host, too.) So what leaps to mind when you think of a diner? Well, the Burger. And the Meatloaf. And the Pancake. And the Rootbeer Float. Which pretty much provided the basis for our meal, actually, and I quickly claimed the Burger/Meatloaf territory. :-)

Now what you have to understand about our dinners is that part of the fun is seeing just how unexpectedly and differently you can interpret the theme and still produce something delicious. (I shall never live down my bringing Garlic Chocolate-Chip Cookies with Lavender Icing to a dinner themed "Hybrids." But that's a different story...) So I was faced with the question: What is a burger? And how does one dial that up to eleven in an unexpectedly delicious way? And now's probably a good time to mention that I had not cooked anything elaborate in a while and needed to scratch that itch. So here's what I decided to make:
Looks like a burger, doesn't it? Well...

I decided I wanted to make a recognizable as a burger but about as un-burger-like as possible, and also dial it to eleven. The finished product ended up being as follows (in my best nouvelle-cuisine gastro-diner menu-speak):

A rondelle of roasted melange of cherry-smoked coho salmon, fresh pork, sweet corn and quinoa, served atop crispy Indian flatbread with organic arugula, lime tzaziki and tomato-tarragon jam perfumed with cumin and Amontillado sherry.

And here's the layman's description: A slice of a cylindrical meatloaf containing salmon, pork, corn and quinoa. Fried naan dough that didn't rise as expected so became more like tortillas. Garlic-lime greek yogurt. Tomato jam.

God it was good! (...no matter what you call it.)

Let's start with the meat. I wanted to make something that was light and yet still rich and smoky like a BBQ hamburger. So, living in the Northwest, my first thought was to hot-smoked salmon. Unlike lox, &c., which are cold-smoked (exposed to the smoke only, not the heat of the fire,) hot-smoked salmon has the texture of cooked fish, if a little drier, as well as a rich smokiness akin to bacon. And I decided to make my own. In my kitchen. Of my apartment. Oy. The making of the salmon is a story for another time, but suffice to say it basically worked and I quickly had a pound of hot-smoked salmon to play with. I combined it with a pound of ground pork, some sweet corn, and some quinoa, as well as a little oil, some bread crumbs and a few eggs to hold it together. And then I roasted it rolled in a cylinder inside foil. And then it came out of the foil, got a coat of apricot jam, and went under the broiler to crisp up the outside. It tasted warm and smoky, and held together even though it wasn't heavy. And the corn provided little pockets of sweetness that burst open in each mouthful. Overall it was an unusual combination of tastes I associate with either warm or cold weather. On it's own it would probably be a little overly smoky but combined with the other pieces it was lovely. The tomato jam is something I've always wanted to try to make. We think of tomatoes as a vegetable, usually associated with salads or savory sauces, and even when really ripe and wonderful, they're not exactly what I'd call sweet. Not like a peach or strawberry. But when you cook down a pasta sauce, for example, you start to get a rich sweetness that can come from nowhere else but the tomato. And I'd tasted sweet-ish tomato-based pastes in restaurants before so I decided to make tomato jam. Since tomatoes by themselves, plus a bit of sugar, reduce basically to a simple, warm stickiness, I added tarragon to give the flavour a green high note, and cumin to fill in the middle of the register.

The bread was a challenge. I followed this recipe here. And while I usually don't follow recipes to the letter, this one I did. And I failed. I have no idea what went wrong but the dough didn't rise as expected. Oh it rose a bit, but not enough for me to make the expected little rounds of lovely, poofy, stretchy naan. Instead, it got stuck at the beginning of it's second rise so I had to cut my losses and flatten out the little balls of dough into thick tortillas and then quickly fry them. They actually tasted really good and provided a good vehicle for the burger, with enough crispness to contrast but enough chewiness to stay together. I'll try the recipe again, maybe messing around a little more next time...The arugula and the tzaziki were last-minute thoughts. I wasted something green and fresh and arugula is a green that can hold its own in a swirling storm of flavours and textures. Alone it's a little bitter, but in this combination it tasted just tart enough to prevent the sandwich flavours from all mushing together. And the tzaziki was to do just the same thing. After I tried the tomato jam I could tell the sandwich needed something cold and tart and fresh to keep the whole thing balanced - something with a little bit of kick to keep the eater awake. Plain greek yogurt with lime and garlic is harsh on its own, but a good foil for sweetness.

Overall, it really was a storm of flavour and sensory experience, all at once hot and cold, sweet and tart, smoky and fresh, bright and crispy and deep and rich. And it was really satisfying to make - from washing the tomatoes and setting up the smoker all the way to slicing the loaf and assembling the first sandwich. When I finished mine, my felling was really "I needed that." Not just to eat it, but to get back in the kitchen and dial something up to eleven.Here are the recipes. Keep in mind that each one could be really good on all sorts of other things. I'll give some ideas with each.

TOMATO JAM
Could be good on a bagel with cream cheese, as a glaze on a roast, on steamed broccoli, or with cheese and crackers.

12 Roma Tomatoes
½ C Sugar
¼ C Amontillado Sherry
¼ C Tarragon Leaves, dried
½ t Cumin, ground

1. Clean and halve tomatoes and remove stems. Puree in food processor until mostly smooth.
2. Pour tomato puree into saucepan with sugar. Cook on medium heat, stirring frequently. Reduce to one-third original volume.
3. Add spices and sherry. Reduce heat to low and cook down to sticky paste. Do not brown or burn.

INTERESTING MEATLOAF BURGER MEAT
This could be a good stand-in for ground meat in various places, whether on the BBQ or as meatballs in sauce or as ground meat for filling pasta.

1 lb Salmon, hot-smoked, shredded
1 lb Pork, ground
2 ears Corn, sweet, kernels cut off
½ C Quinoa, dry
4 Eggs, beaten
¼ C Olive Oil
½ C Panko breadcrumbs
3 T Paprika, smoked, ground
1 T Tumeric, ground
1 t Salt
1 T Pepper, black, freshly ground
2 T Pepper, white, finely ground
1 T Urfa Biber, coarsely ground (A chili pepper with a mild, warm heat. Substitute ¼ t Cayenne)
Apricot Jam
Heavy-Duty Aluminum Foil

0. Preheat oven to 500°F.
1. Steam quinoa until completely cooked (no opaque white spot in the middle of the grain.) [I use the microwave: 1:1 quinoa to water in a bowl covered with a plate, on high for five minutes. Let sit five minutes, stir, add half as much water again, and microwave another five minutes.]
2. Combine meat and grains in large bowl and mix thoroughly. Add eggs and oil and mix thoroughly. Add breadcrumbs and spices and mix thoroughly. Refrigerate 30 minutes.
3. Make two cylinders of the mixture wrapped in heavy-duty aluminum foil - 1 foot long and about as big around as a soda can or tunafish can. Cut of all but one inch extra foil at each end of cylinder, leave partly open (you want some excess moisture to escape so the log solidifies a little more.)
4. Bake logs on roasting pan in the top of the oven for 40 minutes.
5. Remove foil, replace logs on roasting pan, spread with thin layer of apricot jam.
6. Broil until jam bubbles and browns. Roll ¼ turn, spread a little more apricot jam, broil again. Repeat 4 times until all sides have been broiled and are brown and sticky.
7. Cool for 5 minutes. Slice diagonally about ¾-inch thick.

LIME-GARLIC TZAZIKI
Try as salad-dressing, sandwich spread instead of mayonnaise, or sauce for chilled roasted vegetables.

1 C Nonfat Greek Yogurt
½ Lime
3 Cloves Garlic, twice through garlic press.
½ t Salt
1 t Pepper, black, freshly ground.

1. Mix all of the above.
2. Eat :-)

La Ratatouille à la "Ratatouille"

Rats are cute. Ok ok, not always - like the nutria running around the docks or the rats that peer with little red beady eyes from the dumpster in the alley - but for those who doubt, please see here. Or watch the movie Ratatouille - a fabulous movie for a bunch of reasons: silly, heartwarming, contains cute rats, and is almost wholly and entirely devoted to the subject of food. I'll stay away from the philosophical discussions engendered by the movies many characters and events for the time being, if only becasue such things are best discussed over a hearty meal and then a full belly.
As the title would foreshadow, the denoument of the movie centers on the preparation of Ratatouille, for which I found myriad different recipies online. That should surprise nobody, as it seems that, for many common French dishes or foods, ownership or origin is hotly debated by those who wish to claim ownership of the true dish (or drink, in the case of pastis, absinthe, etc.) Like in any traditional food, typically everyone's grandmother was the originator of the best version, which, of course, was only made possible by the decscent of both the recipe and the grandmother from the original creator of the dish in the first place. I'm sure the same is true for many recipes for ratatouille, though at least Wikipedia seems quite clear about the origins of the dish in the area of France now known as Provence.
Interestingly, both the version used in the movie (developed by Chef Thomas Keller of the French Laundry restaurant) and most of the recipes I could find which were attributed to other chefs are based on a version of the dish that branched off from tradition in the 1970s with the creation of "cuisine minceur" by French chef Michel Guérard. Cuisine minceur is basically a more delicate, and generally lower-calorie, approach to the recreation of many dishes and the invention of new ones. Where it applies to ratatouille is in the fact that the more delicate preparation of ingredients gives both a more delicate texture and also a more richly interwoven flavour. Guérard published a minceur adaptation of ratatouille in his book (linked above) and gave the dish the name "confit bayaldi."

For the movie, Chef Keller adapted confit bayaldi back towards the more traditional ratatouille ingredients (Guérard had added mushrooms in place of peppers) and made some additions to the finishing and presentation. He also tweaked the name to "confit byaldi." And so was born the most recent, movie-star version of the old-school, peasant-farmer stew. There's just one problem when you try to make it in your own kitchen: it takes forever to prepare and cook! Here's the recipe (via the New York Times - seemed like the most reliable source.) So, all deference due to Chef Keller, I wanted to make the recipe a little quicker but with an equivalent result - a bit more accessible for the everyday. I think I succeeded, though the only way to know for sure would be if he consented to come to dinner for a taste...
The recipe, namely the ingredients and basic preparation, I did not change. I minced the required minceables and sliced the required slicees. However, I peeled none of the vegetables, nor did I pre-roast the peppers. I discovered, too, that tomatoes and Japanese eggplant do not mandoline well, so those were a little time-consuming to slice so thinly. (Actually, the most time was taken in the slicing of all the vegetables while the cooking effort involved is quite quick.)

The recipe calls for preparation of a baking dish in which the sliced vegetables are slowly steamed as the "piperade" is heated by the dish in the oven. This steaming can take several hours, which I did not have. I wanted a one-pot, one-hour version. I used an enameled dutch oven as my one pot. And instead of cooking the piperade until it was super-thick and then adding it to the baking dish, I cooked it stovetop in the dutch oven and took it off the heat while a little liquid still remained. I layered the sliced vegetables in the requisite spiral, packing them tightly, and then put the pot (covered) back on the stove. By cooking stovetop, I accomplished both the further stewing and reduction of the piperade and also the start of steaming the vegetables at the same time.

I preheated the oven to 350 and transferred the pot in after 15 minutes or so (the vegetables were starting to glisten.) I roasted for a further 30 minutes covered, and then uncovered to evaporate the excess liquid, as is also instructed in the recipe, and to slightly brown the top, which is not. And then since it was a potluck among friends, I served it in the pot with a big spoon - so much for plating and presentation, though everyone did get to see the big beautiful spiral!
Frankly, it was delicious. I did not expect a dish made from such simple ingredients in such a straightforward manner to taste so deeply and richly satisfying, with both a little spiciness and also a depth of flavour that did not translate into a weight on neither the palate nor the stomach. I'm sure the things I did differently had an impact on both flavour and texture. For instance, I think unpeeled, unroasted peppers would be brighter and grassier, and perhaps a little tart in comparison to ones prepared as instructed and by steaming for a long time at low heat the texture of each vegetable slice likely stays firmer and gets smoother as the cellular structure disintegrates more evenly and gently. But it was still great. I look forward to trying other variations on the theme, though for moment let this recipe hold you over:

RATATOUILLE à la RATATOUILLE
Confit Byaldi à la Chef Thomas Keller, via the New York Times
Variations à la Lavender Moose (in italics)

FOR PIPERADE:
1/2 red pepper, seeds and ribs removed
1/2 yellow pepper, seeds and ribs removed
1/2 orange pepper, seeds and ribs removed
2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1 teaspoon minced garlic
1/2 cup finely diced yellow onion
3 tomatoes (about 12 ounces total weight), peeled, seeded, and finely diced, juices reserved
1 sprig thyme
1 sprig flat-leaf parsley
1/2 a bay leaf
Kosher salt

FOR VEGETABLES
1 zucchini (4 to 5 ounces) sliced in 1/16-inch rounds
1 Japanese eggplant, (4 to 5 ounces) sliced into 1/16-inch rounds
1 yellow squash (4 to 5 ounces) sliced into 1/16-inch rounds
4 Roma tomatoes, sliced into 1/16-inch rounds
1/2 teaspoon minced garlic
2 teaspoons olive oil
1/8 teaspoon thyme leaves
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

FOR VINAIGRETTE
1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oi
1 teaspoon balsamic vinegar
Assorted fresh herbs (thyme flowers, chervil, thyme)
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper.

1. For piperade, heat oven to 450 degrees. Place pepper halves on a foil-lined sheet, cut side down. Roast until skin loosens, about 15 minutes. Remove from heat and let rest until cool enough to handle. Peel and chop finely.
I didn't bother with the roasting because I was trying to be speedy. I might try it next time to see what a difference it makes.

2. Combine oil, garlic, and onion in medium skillet over low heat until very soft but not browned, about 8 minutes. Add tomatoes, their juices, thyme, parsley, and bay leaf. Simmer over low heat until very soft and very little liquid remains, about 10 minutes, do not brown; add peppers and simmer to soften them. Season to taste with salt, and discard herbs. Reserve tablespoon of mixture and spread remainder in bottom of an 8-inch skillet.
I did this as advertised, with the exception of retaining a little more liquid in the mixture by not heating it as long.

3. For vegetables, heat oven to 275 degrees. Down center of pan, arrange a strip of 8 alternating slices of vegetables over piperade, overlapping so that 1/4 inch of each slice is exposed. Around the center strip, overlap vegetables in a close spiral that lets slices mound slightly toward center. Repeat until pan is filled; all vegetables may not be needed.
Yes! This is the fun part :-) I wound the slices a little tighter to pack more in until they were almost standing up. I had a bunch of leftovers that went into a really good pasta/pizza/couscous sauce later in the week.

4. Mix garlic, oil, and thyme leaves in bowl and season with salt and pepper to taste. Sprinkle over vegetables. Cover pan with foil and crimp edges to seal well. Bake until vegetables are tender when tested with a paring knife, about 2 hours. Uncover and bake for 30 minutes more. (Lightly cover with foil if it starts to brown.) If there is excess liquid in pan, place over medium heat on stove until reduced. (At this point it may be cooled, covered and refrigerated for up to 2 days. Serve cold or reheat in 350-degree oven until warm.)
Significant cooking variations: put the dutch oven back on the stovetop and cover and cook on low (simmering only!) for about 15 minutes. Then transfer into 350-degree oven for 30+ minutes (check after 30 minutes to see if vegetables are cooked but "al dente". If so, uncover and cook for 10 minutes or until most liquid is evaporated and top is slightly brown (short-cut to step 6 below.)

5. For vinaigrette, combine reserved piperade, oil, vinegar, herbs, and salt and pepper to taste in a bowl.

6. To serve, heat broiler and place byaldi underneath until lightly browned. Slice in quarters and very carefully lift onto plate with offset spatula. Turn spatula 90 degrees, guiding byaldi into fan shape. Drizzle vinaigrette around plate. Serve hot.
Serve in cooking pot with a big spoon and vinaigrette on the side.


Note: Facts, names, dates, etc. in this post sourced from Wikipedia, the New York Times, and michelguerard.com.