Happy Passover!

At some Passover in my family’s history, my mother introduced a new Charoset recipe, and it stuck.  This is a sephardic recipe, meaning it originates from the Jews of Spain.  Like all good isolated jewish communities, they adapted the local flavor palate, as well as slightly different traditions.  While my family heralds from eastern European roots (Ashkenazi Jews) this recipe is delicious – so it easily trumps family tradition. (it’s not like my family even had an official version of this anyway – nothing was being displaced.)

Charoset symbolizes the mortar that the Jewish slaves used to bind bricks while building.  A typical recipe, is sickly sweet, with a consistency not too far off from the materials that inspired it.  Here, the sugar is cut way back, and a variety of nuts and dates are introduced.  Fresh ground ginger and lemon balance the mix – leading to the perfect compliment for a nice piece of gefilte fish and a touch of horseradish on matzah.

What to pair it with?  Sadly, beer isn’t kosher for passover, no matter how you slice it.  I’d recommend a nice dry white wine, or better yet, a homebrewed mead.

Here’s how I make it:

Sephardic Charoset
Adapted from Faye Levy’s International Jewish Cookbook

1/2c. Pecans, toasted
3 Tablespoons Sugar
2 Medium Granny Smith Apples, peeled and cored
2-3 Tablespoons Lemon Juice
1 Lemon’s Zest
1 Teaspoon Cinnamon
1/2 Tablespoon Fresh Ground Ginger
1/2 Cup Almonds, chopped, toasted
12 Pitted Dates, chopped
1/4 Cup Pine Nuts, toasted

Grind pecans with sugar in a food processor until fine.

Grate apples and add lemon juice and zest, stir in ground nuts, cinnamon, ginger, almonds and
dates.

Taste and add more sugar, lemon juice or ginger  if desired.

Which was born from this dish: 

After Elianna and I had  finished helping the Homebrew Chef cooks one hell of a dinner. he graciously let us leave with some of the leftover ingredients. One of my favorite scores was a few pastrami duck breasts.  Sean had loving sous vide braised the duck is pastrami spices, giving them a great color and distinct pastrami flavor. The following morning, faced with eating a late breakfast, I decided to treat them just like I would leftover pastrami – it was time to make hash. Plus, it gave me the perfect opportunity to play with a new toy, Eli’s sausage grinder attachment for our Kitchenaid mixer.  I quickly boiled some potatoes, caramelized some onions, and pushed the whole thing though the mill. 

The total prep time was only a few minutes to boil the potatoes and prep the onions, but the payoff was huge  - since I was piggybacking on the hours of labor Sean has already invested in the duck.  I formed loose patties and browned them off in a pan.  As soon as the patties started to take on some color, the aroma of caramelized duck filled the kitchen.  I love that smell. 

To finish everything off, Eli toasted some English muffins and poached eggs.  Total time from start to eating: about thirty minutes.  Sure we could have made a hollandaise or a cream sauce, or perhaps snuck some wilted spinach in there, but that would have taken longer and dammit, we were hung-over, cranky and hungry.  I paired this dish with a strong cup of coffee, but Firestone Walker’s Double Barrel Ale would have been great too. 

Well, I’ve still got more He’brew to get through, and I figured what better way to do it, than to embrace the Jewish food traditions that He’Brew decends from?

I invoked my inner Jewish grandmother (“Honey! you’re too thin! eat something!”) and set about making chicken livers.  I just love ‘em.  One of my favorite preparations is serve the livers in a mouse alongside of a condiment that cuts the fat slightly, and brings out some of the natural sweetness of the caramelized onions in the mousse.  Plus, the figs in the beer seemed like a natural pairing.

I made Alton Brown’s Chicken Liver Mousse recipe, then set about creating the jelly to seal it with.  I tapped off some Rejewvenator, then set about reducing it.  While it was on the stove, I added cinnamon, cardamon, lemon juice, sugar, and gelatin. 

So how did it all turn out?  Pretty good.  The chicken livers were rich and creamy, and the jelly was sweet and spoke to its ingredients. However,  I think next time, there are a few lessons I learned: less sugar, let it reduce further to break down the hops, and perhaps most importantly, I really should let everything cool more before pouring the jelly on top of the mousse.  If you don’t wait, things can get… messy. 

After a very filling dinner of Rejewvenator Braised Chicken, Zak was ready to show off for dessert.  Like any good dinner guest, he had arrived bearing two bottles of booze, and a bottle of beer.  Except the bottles of liquor weren’t for drinking: they were bound to be lit on fire.  Which is really the best part of Bananas Foster anyway. 

After the bananas were sliced, Zak added the brown sugar and butter to a nonstick pan, and under very, very low heat, combined them.  We were waiting for the suger to completely melt and it to stop appearing grainy. It in fact took so long, I got impatient, and opened the beer I intended to serve with dessert, a bottle of Brew Dog’s Paradox Islay #9, which is aged in Scotch barrels. 

I am supremely confident that there are people out there who must love this beer – people who adore scotch with a good cigar.  I’m just not one of them.  It was hugely peaty and smokey, to the point where Liz, Zak’s girlfriend, took one sip and announced that it “tastes like an ashtray.”  While I wouldn’t go that far, it was just too aggressive for me.  Luckily, all this tasting had given Zak enough time to finish melting the sugar, and he added the bananas, which cooked though in the sugar. 

Then it was time, finally, to start lighting things on fire.  Zak added the booze, tilted the pan, and an impressive flame lurched out of the pan.  Which I of course, didn’t catch on my camera as I fumbled with the settings.  Canon doesn’t include a “flambe” preset, but they should.  Not wanting to let the blog down, Zak dutifully added more booze.  I again, failed to capture the moment on film. 

Determined to capture the a flame in the pan, Eli and I later returned to the scene, and staged this dramatic flambe recreation for your viewing pleasure.  I hope it was worth it. 

This final dessert however, was not staged.  It was delicious. Plates were quickly assembled with vanilla ice cream and handed out to the awaiting diners. 

So, where to start with all this Rejewventor?  Why braise some chicken, of course. It’s been cold and rainy here in San Francisco, so a comforting braise like this was perfect for a wet evening hiding indoors with friends.  This was actually Elianna’s creation, and she did a bang up job.  She started by searing off the chicken thighs and drumsticks, in bacon fat. 

Once the chicken had taken on some nice color, it was pulled from the pot and a classic blend of mirepoix and tomato paste was added, along with a bay leaf and the bacon that was crisped up earlier.  Then the pitcher of Rejuvenator (which had been quietly reducing in another pot with parsley and thyme) was added in along with some chicken stock, and the whole thing was left alone to simmer on the stove until delicious. 

Once done, the chicken was again pulled from the pot, the sauce strained, and added back onto the almost falling apart chicken.  We served it along side a simple salad – trying to be healthy in the New Year and all.

The final product was delicious, although I’m not sure that I could tell that any beer, much less this beer, was used.  Cooking it so long has the effect of breaking down the hop bitterness, but the final result pulls much more flavor from the bone in chicken and tomato paste that the base beer. But that’s OK – we cleaned out plates anyway.  Plus, I’ve got a few more ideas about how to get some more culinary potential out of this brew. Your suggestions are still urgently needed. 

Here’s how to make it.

Lay out your high quality bacon on a sheet tray in a single layer, (I covered mine in aluminum foil to make the clean up easier later.)  Put it in a 400 degree oven for 5-7 minutes, or until the bacon has cooked about halfway.

Top the bacon with brown sugar and whatever other toppings trike your fancy.  I made half of mine with just plain sugar, and half were topped with almonds and a light sprinkling of Mexican cayenne pepper.  Other good toppings include most any kind of nut, and other ground spices: ground ginger would be killer.  Once topped, back into the oven until the bacon is as crispy as you like it (i like it really crispy) and the sugar has caramelized but not burned.  I wouldn’t turn my back on this or leave the kitchen if I were you. 

Once done, allow to cool, and move to cool on a surface that won’t stick to the melted sugar. Cut up into more manageable pieces, and serve to impress.

PS – Leave your bacon candy beer pairing recommendations in the comments. Happy Holidays! 

After previous Hopsickle and lamb neck adventures, I wasn’t planning on revisiting either this soon. After a happy accident at the butcher where I wanted a shank, but thanks to a communication mishap, I ended up with a neck instead. Instead of asking to swap it out, I decided to run with it, and set about braising it curry spices.

I cooked it the night before in He’Brew’s Genesis Ale (easy night-of dinners is one of my favorite benefits of braising).  I imagined the darker malts would marry nicely with the curry spices. Using whole spices, I fried cloves, cinnamon, cumin, turmeric, cumin and coriander with onions, garlic, ginger, jalapeno and tomatoes.  I added a bottle of the ale and chicken stock, submerged my browned lamb neck, and left it alone in the oven to cook.  A hour later, my whole apartment was engulfed in a curry aroma, which made me think it might be worth revisiting pairing up another bottle of the Hopsickle.

We served the lamb for Shabbos dinner, alongside challah, wild rice, and curried eggplant. We were joined for dinner by Chris and Julia.  Eli handed the rice and eggplant, while Chris and I tended to some important Wii-related business.

The finished plate packed a punch, with the slow cooked goodness of the lamb melding nicely with the curry spices.  I’m not sure I could detect the beer directly, but the long slow cooking time melded everything.  Next time a stronger beer perhaps, and more jalapeno. After snapping a few pictures, I cracked open the beer and settled into dinner.

This time, the pairing clicked. The big beer was able to stand up to the big dinner.  I think Indian curry spices are a great compliment to a big IPA.  The citrusy hops provide a nice balance, and the sweetness seems perfectly in place against the rich sauce.  The beer has a slightly grass, earthy character from the dry hopping, which works well in this context.  The girls tried the pairing, but rejected the beer out of hand,  as “too bitter!” and handed it right back. More for us.

I also opened a bottle of the Genesis Ale, to see how the ingredient worked as a beer. Unfortunately, the Hopsickle is a hard act to follow.  After such a big beer, this classical ale seemed timid.  It’s lighter hopping makes it ideal for cooking, but not so much as a pairing against these flavors.  Next time I think I’d be better off using their Lenny Rye IPA.

Chris approved as the pairing as well, and happily quaffed the IPA.  He was so impressed in fact, that they did the dishes. 

Every family had their own special holiday traditions.  Mine, for example, involves my mothers ample collection of menorahs that makes the Los Angles Fire Department VERY nervous on the last night when she lights then all (but it’s so festive!) and the cliche-ridden Chinese and movie on Christmas day. 

Eli’s family makes latkes.  But not just a few.  They make a mountain of latkes, and rain down latkes on every holiday party within a fifty mile radius. This year, the family tradition migrated north, and we too engaged in a slightly scaled down version here in San Francisco.  I say “scaled down” since we didn’t purchase any additional appliances for the frying or freezing of latkes, and completed the cooking marathon in under 6 hours. 

I took ample pictures in the background and tried to stay out the of the way as she managed two frying pans and an electric griddle.  After we wiped down the oil slick that overtook the kitchen, she agreed to share her recipe below, on the grounds that she was able to write in all of the secret details that make the latkes so ideal. Even Eli, a compulsive recipe-tinker, makes these exactly as described below.  It is after all, Tradition! 

Dedicated to my mother, the worlds best Latke maker. – Eli

Worlds Best Latke Recipe:

8 medium potatoes (russet works well)
1 large yellow/brown onion
3 heaping Tbsps. Matzo meal
1 heaping Tbsp. Potato starch
1 Tbsp. Kosher Salt
1 dash freshly grated pepper
3 large eggs
Vegetable oil
 

This recipe can be 4x or 8x, but make each batch as you work so your potatoes don’t turn brown.

Step 1: Open kitchen windows or else when you begin to fry your house will stink up.

Step 2: Mix Matzo Meal, Potato starch, salt, and pepper in a mise en place bowl.

Step 3: Crack three eggs in another mise en place bowl and mix with a fork.

Step 4: Quarter potatoes and onions then grate together in food processor. 
Add Matzo meal, potato starch, salt, pepper and eggs to potato/onion mixture.  Mix well.  From this step forward it is important to move quickly so the potatoes don’t brown.  To help with this process use multiple electric skillets.

Step 5:  Cover bottom on electric skillet with oil and heat.  Drop potato mixture by spoonfuls (or fingers if you’re fearless) into hot skillet, turn when brown on one side and brown on the other side.  Allow oil to drain – paper bags work well if working in bulk. Serve immediately with applesauce, sour cream and/or jelly.
   

Latkes can be frozen in single layers separated by wax paper after they have cooled.  To re-heat, pre-heat oven to 375 F for 10 minutes or until latkes sizzle.  Serve.

Happy Hanukkah! 

I’m really digging Saison beers these days.  Especially the ones which seem to be laced with a hint of brett, and have that slight farmhouse funk without going overboard.  (See also: The Bruery‘s Saison Rue, and Eli’s favorite, Ommegang’s Hennepin.) This particular bottle of Fantôme hit the balance perfectly – it was distinctly citrusy with a nose of belgium farmhouse yeast, yet maintained a smooth finish.  Besides the glass chipping when I removed the cap (underneath which there is a cork,) this was an ideal bottle of beer. Plus, it was a great compliment to the autumnal dinner I’d been working on.  As it gets colder, I can move into cooking and eating more dishes designed to warm you up when it’s cold out.

Dinner started with a roasted chestnut soup. Vanity olive oil drizzle optional. 

Using Mark Bittman’s recipe as a jumping off point, I swapped out leeks for the onions, and still added just a hint of cream to make the whole thing a tad more indulgent. The finished soup was earthy and rich, but uncomplicated – and great with the beer.  Also, roasting chestnuts: what a pain in the ass.  Seriously.  I’m thinking a good walnut soup would be a much lower effort variation on this.

In the meantime, I put the finishing pine nuts on my swiss chard, checked the temperature on my roasting pork loin, and crisped leftover potatoes with more leeks in a pan.  Dinner was nearly ready. 

One of the great things about the temperature dropping and the cool nights, is a return to winter cooking.  I have a well documented love of braising, but along with the cool weather come the winter bitter greens. Mustard greens, chard, kale, or my favorite: beet greens.  Tonight however, I had Swiss Chard.  I shocked the greens, then brought them together in a pan with a bit of white wine, onion, garlic and pine nuts. 

Together, everything was pretty great: the potatoes had taken on a bit of a crust, the pork was perfectly cooked (thanks in-oven wireless thermometer!) and the chard had a hint of bitterness and earthiness, as well as my serving of veggies for the day.  My only complaint is that I was too delicate with my seasoning of the pork.  It had a light meyer lemon, garlic and rosemary rub that seemed to cook off in the oven, and leave very little flavor behind – next time, I’d marinate it overnight, and double the flavors for a bigger impact.  

With the soup and the Fantôme, I wouldn’t change a thing. 

I started by dusting my lamb in flour, searing and searing them in a dutch oven.  While the waited for maillard reaction to work it’s magic, I broke down some mirepoix and contemplated what beer to use.

I knew I wanted something with low hops, since as the hops cook down they can become bitter.  Originally I was contemplating something dark, but seeing as how the weather had eased up a bit, and so many osso bucco recipes call for a white wine braise, I decided to stay seasonal, and opted to continue to cook using Gordon Biersch Festbier. It’d be a hit before, so why stop now? Plus, I really need to clear this stuff out of the fridge.  I figured the light malt would be a delicate backbone to the braising liquid.

After browning the meat, I added the veggies, some tomato paste, bay leaves, thyme, the beer and chicken stock, brought the whole thing up to a boil, added back in the lamb, and parked it in the oven until my whole house smelled delicious.

This is a great meal for a Sunday evening.  You start it in the morning, leave it alone for the afternoon in the over, and come dinner time, there is a warm and rich dinner waiting, with minimal effort to put it on table when it’s needed.

Still thinking about the blog post that reminded me of lamb neck in the first place, I asked Eli if she’d cook up some grits, which she did with gusto.  She used a mild white “German Mountain Cheese” to add richness, and a hint of cayenne that made it really pop. Along with some roasted broccoli, the whole meal came together at dinner with ease.

By time dinner was on the table, the sun had set and the usual autumnal chill had crept into San Francisco. To stay warm, I decided it was time to check on a bottle of my Bay Area Brew Crew Barrel Aged Barelywine.  I had bottled it a few months ago, along with some fresh yeast and priming sugar.  Unfortunately, the carbonation in this bottle left something be desired.  There was the faintest hint of carbonation, but not nearly enough.  It still was delicious (especially after warming up a bit) with great roasted malt flavors, and a clear oaky finish.  It provided a great compliment to the lamb.

Speaking of the lamb – it came out great.  The beer lended a slight sweetness, and in the reduced cooking liquid there was the faintest hint of bitterness from the hops.  The bones released collagen goodness, and the resulting meat was rich and wonderful – I’d highly recommend the cut again it the future. On a colder night, I think braising in a really big, really dark beer could hold some promise as well. Or maybe in a winter seasonal, reinforced with additional spices in the braise – Anchor Steam Christmas Ale braise anyone?