Plantains FTW

Enhanced with a bite from Hungry Sam!

Ok – can’t rock a hiatus forever. I’ve found a new apartment, I’ve moved, I’m somewhat unpacked, work is busy but (for the moment) not unmanageable. In sum: I can take a deep breath, savor my food, and write up some of my awesome food adventures.

Tonight, we make baked fried plantains. Or fried baked plantains. No, I think the first one.

Obligatory backstory: I am a meat lover, but honestly, the best part of Brazilian churrascaria is the fried plantains. Doesn’t matter what absurd quantities of beef and lamb and chicken and pork I consume right of the sword from which it’s served – I ALWAYS have room for just one more sweet, browned, rich, earthy chunk of plaintain.

So when I saw some perfectly overripe, oversized plantains stacked high in my strange, wondrous/kinda smelly Latin grocery store in my new neighborhood, I knew it was time to try it myself.

"What are plantains?" a person might ask. "This is a plantain," I reply:

"Isn't that just a banana?" that same person might also ask. "NO DAMMIT," I calmly reply. Then I check Wikipedia, and see that a plantain is, in fact a banana. There is no "botanical distinction" between a banana and a plaintain; the former is smaller and sweeter due to specific environmental factors and not to a difference in genetics. The terms, then, are tied to more to usage than anything else -- a "plaintain" is a cooking banana.

Being a little adverse to fried food generally AND disliking the oil spatter burns I inevitably suffer whenever I fry things, I decided to coat the plantains with a little oil then bake them. The same general strategy works when I make my sweet potato fries, so hey, why not?

Several recipes I found online noted that overripe plantains are the best for this dish; these can be identified by their intense yellow color and black spots. I chopped off the ends, peeled the fruit, then sliced at a diagonal into 3/4 inch chunks.

For oil, vegetable would probably have been the right direction, but having just moved, all I happened to have on hand was olive. Using a spritz bottle, I coated everything lightly and evenly and spread the coins on a tray I'd also spritzed. Just for giggles, I used cinnamon and a little brown sugar on half, and set the whole shebang to bake at 450 degrees. 

As sometimes happens when trying a new technique, I didn't know quite the amount of time to bake the dish. I knew the general consistency I wanted (very tender, a slight browning crisp on the edges) -- trial and error, then, was the name of the game. I think I tried them at 10 minutes, 12 minutes, and 15 minutes; they were finally done to my liking at 18 minutes.

Tasting notes: Texture was close, about as close as I was going to get without actually frying. The edges were crispy but the interior never reached the silky, smooth, melt-on-your-tongue tenderness that you get from fried plantains. Flavor-wise, the cinnamon sugar side was delicious; the un-seasoned side was a little bland. Perhaps it was the fruit I purchased, but these babies benefited from a little extra sweetness. I thought the baked plantains were decent, but not as good as fried -- if I use this technique again in the future I intend to use significantly more oil.

On another note, I'm taking these pictures with my new camera. Learning the manual controls will take some time, but definitely better pictures, no?

Frolicking in Southern Food: Georgia Brown's

This cornbread is shaped like corn! Will wonders never cease?

Every now and again, I'm asked "What should be on my D.C. bucket list? What are some must-see, must-dine experiences I need to have hereabouts?" I have a new addition to my series of suggestions: Georgia Brown's, a restaurant with a well-deserved status as a Washington landmark.

You see, growing up in Maine and going to school in Rochester, NY, I think I always perceived Washington, D.C. as some sort of food frontier, the North's last culinary fort before the expanse of the deep fried South. In my mind, Southern food is buttered and fried then buttered again, then chicken fried (whatever the hell THAT is). I've since learned of the savory wonder of cheese grits and andouille shrimp stew, and of the sweet crunch of perfect corn bread, and I've since learned that there is no one "south," just as it's fallacious to claim there's a single "north," with one single culture, attitude, and cuisine.

Enough of my previously-held personal predilections (woot alliterative adjectives); on to Georgia Brown's!

As a padawan health nut, I generally avoid fatty, carby offerings for lunch -- let's face it, 95 percent of the time the meal wasn't worth the aftereffects. Also, I will fall asleep. BUT with the boss taking us out (she engages in frequent awesome bouts of feeding us!) and with what I'd heard about Georgia Brown's (WORTH IT), I decided to embrace GB's rich, spectacular, southern offerings.

The menu presents what could be described as up-scaled and creative versions of solid comfort-food classics. Deviled eggs, fried green tomatoes (more on these), fried chicken, jambalaya, and shrimp & grits; pretty much what you'd expect, I suppose -- but better.

But the execution...wow.

Also, see the cornbread picture above. Shaped like corn! SO ENTERTAINED BY THIS.

I opted for the lunch prix fixe menu, as did most of my colleagues, which included an appetizer, entree, and dessert. On my boss' recommendation I decided to start with a fried green tomato (a dish my mom always resisted making because she wants all the tomatoes to ripen up for jarring our sauce). No simple FGT these, though:

First of all, it was crispy and lightly breaded to succulent perfection. Served atop a sort of green tomato relish, or chutney or somesuch, the appetizer was drizzled with a light green onion mayo. Then, just to drop-kick it into the culinary stratosphere, the tomato was STUFFED WITH GOAT CHEESE. Yeah, you heard me. AWESOME. This dish wowed me, and was perhaps my favorite part of the meal aside from the aforementioned cornbread.

Here it is again.

Next, I selected the chef's special, which on that day was a brisket, served in a thick, rich, peppercorn gravy with vegetables atop a mound of red mashed potatoes.

My picture does NOT do the food justice -- the brisket was perfectly tender and generally well-spiced; it flaked nicely with my fork alone and without any of the stringy, get-stuck-between-your-teeth character brisket can at times acquire. Though delicious, it was perhaps the least adventurous step of my journey into GB's offerings.

Finally, for dessert, the chef provided a simple caramel-drizzled chocolate sheet cake and a piece of sweet potato pie/tart, with a solid dollop of home-whipped cream.

I have to say, the cake was mundane and totally outshone by the tangy, rich, nutmeggy pie. I made all-gone, likeso:

Talk about a lunch. Yes, I felt like I'd gained 74 lbs., and yes, it took inordinate levels of afternoon caffeine to remain productive -- but worth it? Abso-wicked-lutely.

Georgia Brown's has earned it's title as: "One of Hungry Sam's Favorite Restaurants (when someone else is picking up the tab)." Excellent, excellent experience; I highly recommend it.

The Great Granola Caper of 2011

EPIC AND DELICIOUS GRANOLA.

Well, I like to think that I gained delicious granola, rather than losing delicious granola BARS. Yes, I failed at granola bars, hard.

But I made epic vanilla granola.

Also, I shall name my vanilla granola concoction: "GRANILLA." Sweet.

This afternoon, I visited Whole Foods and played "Bulk Foods Aisle Master Challenge," which is where you attempt to create complex meals using primarily and as many ingredients from the bulk foods section as possible. I opted to make granola bars using every item that could reasonably or conceivable be included, including:

• rolled oats
• flax seed
• pumpkin seeds
• sunflower seeds
• bran
• coconut
• pecans
• almonds
• walnuts
• craisins
• dried mango
• banana chips
• raisins
• dried figs

And...I eyeballed ALL the quantities. Mostly small handfuls of everything, except for the oats (I bought about 2 1/2 c. of regular rolled oats -- not quick cook).

The tab? $5.34. Why buy granola? Ever? Yeesh.

The root of my granola BAR fail lay in my ratios. I started by making a basic granola -- I toasted everything but the fruit, then tossed all the ingredients with melted butter (1 T.), vanilla extract (2 t.), and honey (1/2 c.).

Then, at the suggestion of the interwebs, to turn regular granola into bars, I pressed the mixture into a buttered 9" x 9" pyrex pan and baked at 325 F for about 25 minutes.

It had so much "bar" potential!

I suppose what I really needed was significantly more of the butter/honey mixture in relation to the dry ingredients. Although the recipe baked just fine, and although I refrigerated until bars were cool, everything just sort of fell apart...

...Yet didn't really stay in "bar" form.

Flavor-wise, I was pretty happy with the results. I forgot to put in any spices (I mean to use ginger, or maybe cinnamon), but the result was that the vanilla really burst through as the primary unifying flavor. The texture was super, inevitable when using this many diverse ingredients, although I particularly dug the figs. 

I really had been looking forward to making little bars, but hey -- I basically have awesome homemade cereal for a while. A bittersweet granola victory, indeed.

But not really. Pretty much just sweet.

***Look how much better the picture are in daylight!

Hungry Sam's Friday Food (News) Digest!

OLD SKOOL.

Welcome to the second hebdomadal (vocab dork!) installment of Hungry Sam's Friday Food Digest! Herein, we shall together encounter the edible, appreciate the absurd, and glance askew at the tastiest, grossest, most interesting and/or horrifying food-oriented news of the last week. Or longer, depending on when I find this stuff. As always, your submissions make this publication better (and easier)!

Lobster-themed Hockey Tourney: Keeping Those New England Stereotypes Alive!
Allow me, as a native New Englander, to translate this article back to its mother tongue: Ayuh, whelp, those theyah kid hawckey playuhs dinnt have themselves a decent tahnahmint so we cooked up the Lawbstuh Pawt Tahnamint so they could play. And we made ahselves some flags, too! Best line from the article: "The Canadian Maple Leaf flag inspired the result, with the leaf replaced by a cheeky-looking lobster holding a hockey stick." Cheeky? You be the judge.

CHEEKY! And yes, I own one of those hats.

Via the Barnstable Patriot. Of course.

HEAVENS TO BETSY! Kurt Russell is Making His Own Wine!
Quote:

If you're rolling your eyes thinking, Yeah, yeah, another movie star "making" his own wine. Don't. According to Rebecca, the actor was intimately involved in the entire process, "pruning, picking, on the bottling line, blending."

Why should this prevent me from rolling my eyes? So he was involved! I could be intimately involved in the creation of my OWN wine -- I could sing sweet, soft love songs to the grapes, choose the finest petrified wood casks, and laugh evil little laughs at how much money I was going to make -- and STILL end up with a crappy wine. Sorry, The Daily Meal, I'm still going to roll my eyes.

Via the Daily Meal

Does the eye-patch allow for better grape selection?

Libyan Rebels LOVE Themselves Some Snickers Bars
Reprinted in full:

"Now we are eating Snickers bars, before we could only just look at them in the store," said Ayman Ahmed, a 23-year-old volunteer for the rebel forces who together with a group of friends took over the abandoned house of a oil refinery worker in the Ras Lanouf residential area.

"We are really experiencing freedom now," he said, in a living room filled with discarded juice boxes and wrappers from packaged sweet cakes.

I'm concerned about the future diabetes epidemic in Libya if the rebels oust Gadhafi, but as I too love a good Snickers bar, I am sympathetic to Mr. Ahmed.
Via Andrew Sullivan's The Daily Dish, at The Atlantic

Satisfied? Not until a democracy flourishes in Libya!

Finally, with a hat-tip to my favorite Jerusalem-based rabbinic student:

If Ever a Dip Were to Cause a War, Hummus is it
Ok, so this article focuses on savory, smooth, garlicky, Israeli hummus, but let's face it: Lebanon once sued Israel over the latter's assertion of hummus as its national condiment. There may yet be an all-out hummus war. But it's worth reading this ode to hummus, which ends with TWO bonuses -- RECIPES!
Via Tablet, with hat-tip to Liz!

Also via Tablet

Happy Weekend, Happy Hummus, and send me your food stories!

The (Ginger-Cognac) Truffle Shuffle!

The Stuff I used. Mostly!

Jen and I were pretty much on the same page vis-a-vis Valentine's Day. Granted, it helped that she was in town not for the "holiday" (I'll keep my feelings on contrived holidays to myself), but rather, primarily for a family celebration. But either way, we both independently chose to exchange gifts that reflected a gift of time and effort, not of shininess (or whatever). 

My gift to Jen was homemade chocolate truffles. I'd never made such a thing -- if you haven't noticed, I'm not hardcore into dessert-making. So I suppose that part of this gift was developing a skill she'll be able to take advantage of more than once. 

I kind of like this take on V-Day -- I think I've always tried to be a little subversive about the holiday by doing something simple, but in a way that reflects effort and thoughtfulness. 

The recipe I found called for:

-8 oz. of high quality bittersweet chocolate

-4 oz. of unsweetened chocolate

-1 (12 oz.) can of sweetened condensed milk

-8 T. unsalted butter

-Flavoring

-Coating

Clearly, it was in the last two ingredients that my creativity had room to shine. The recipe offered suggestions for "flavoring"; most involved a few tablespoons of a flavored liqueur and some essence of the corresponding flavor (i.e. 6 T. Grand Marnier and 1 T. orange zest). 

Never wanting to rely completely on a recipe, I thought and thought and thought. Finally, it hit me -- among my favorite liqueurs is Domaine de Canton, a ginger cognac delicacy (great in champagne or with a splash of whisky). Add to that a little fresh-grated ginger root, and I figured we had a solid start on our hands.

I started by coarsely chopping my chocolates. For the bittersweet, I'd opted for a solid Godiva; for the unsweetened, I used Baker's, which (usefully) comes packaged with each one ounce segment individually wrapped. 

YUM.

Next, I went at the ginger, peeling the root then finely grating it. I wanted to prep this stuff first because, as anyone who's worked with melted chocolate knows, it can be fickle and require a lot of attention. Hah. Anyways, I wanted to have everything ready.

Once I was set to proceed, I threw the chocolates into a small saucepan over low heat with the butter (cut small) and the milk. The key here was to stir or whisk constantly to avoid burning the chocolate; I could have sped the process up by using a double boiler, but I don't own one and I was too lazy to MacGyver one up.

Still lumpy.

After my chocolates melted, in went the liqueur and the ginger. I transferred the mixture into a large bowl, and into the fridge everything went to set, theoretically for two hours.

Better!

For anyone trying to do this at home, this whole "getting cool" part did NOT take two hours, it took approximately forever. Since I was in a rush, I used the freezer for part of this process and the chocolate STILL wasn't where it was supposed to be. Whatevs, time, she was a wasting.

When it was time to start up again, I prepped my coatings. I had put together three options -- toasted walnut, unsweetened cocoa, and cinnamon. Only after I tasted the mixture did I realize it would be a crime to introduce a new flavor at this late stage. And it would be rookie. So, I whisked the cocoa with a half teaspoon of ground Chinese ginger, and put this into a largish cereal bowl.

Using a scoop, I began the awesome and messy process of molding about a tablespoon at a time of the chocolate into a ball, then tossing it with the coating. After about 30 minutes of this, I had FORTY TRUFFLES.

Oh, also: MESSY, right?

What the hell was I going to do with forty truffles? "Here, Jen: a satchel of truffles. A saddlebag of truffles. A... lot of truffles." How romantic, right?

Instead I gave her a pretty little bag of six (because truffles are the sort of thing that should be given in numbers to savor, not chow, right?). I scored brownie points by giving the rest to her family. POINTS.

Here is the ALMOST final product: 

I say "almost;" in a stroke of creativity I decided to roll them in my palms once more before wrapping, which had the effect of knocking off excess coating and smoothing the ovoid shape a tad. Sadly, I didn't photograph the product after this additional step. But trust me, they looked awesome.

Final thoughts: This was fun. And really not that expensive, which makes me feel dumb for buying 4 or five dollar truffles in the past. And there's room for endless creativity, which is pretty fun -- I might even say this would make a fun date activity. All around -- a keeper!

Pineapple-and-Ginger Infused Rum

WHIMSICAL. And delicious! And alcoholic!

I get to have a little Christmas morning every month: the day on which my Everyday Food magazine arrives. I suppose it's more a of Christmas eve, in that looking at the little magazine is more like viewing the potential treats, the meals yet to be made.

I know I talk this magazine up, but Everyday Food really does seem to hit a good balance, proffering numerous affordable and interest-piquing dishes and desserts without falling into the traps so many other food publications do (recipes with overly-esoteric or wicked pricey ingredients, for example).

Each month, they spend a little time highlighting fruits and/or vegetables which happen to be in season, and this month Everyday Food included several dishes and recipe ideas with my personal favorite: pineapple. I LOVE pineapple. I can, and have on numerous occasions, eaten a whole fruit in one sitting -- it's among my favorite treats and one I frequently use to quell my sweet tooth, with great success. Even after it starts to hurt a little, I just don't want to stop eating pineapple.

Now, I'll eventually get down to the pineapple black bean salsa, or the pineapple jerk pork chops, but I was a little TOO excited to see the recipe for pineapple-and-ginger infused rum. I've made infused spirits before, but always with vodka, and always using the zest of citrus fruits. This recipe constituted some new ground, and for every bit of enjoyment I'll wring from the liqueur, I'll gain in equal measure from the soon-to-be pineapple rum cake WITH RUM INFUSED PINEAPPLE.

So, win-win, right?

Right.

Although I often use recipes as a jump-off point for creativity, in this case I followed the recipe closely. The hardest part by far was securing a 2 Qt-ish glass jar, it not being canning season -- I eventually found a big jar of Mott's apple sauce, which I emptied into another container and washed. Then, in went thin, inch-long slices of fresh ginger root.

Then, After removing the pineapple's rind and frond, I cut the fruit into long strips and began to see how much I could fit into the jar (note: about 3/4).

Then, with the rum. The recipe called for decent stuff; I went for Bacardi silver. Sue me. I managed to fit a full fifth (.750 L) into the jar. Now, it's supposed to sit for a few weeks in the fridge with a daily shake-up, but I'm more than a little excited to give it a shot.

I'm still pretty entertained by the fronds atop the jar.

I'll keep you all posted.

Spicy Chai, Anyone?

To anyone who enjoys the spicy, intense Mexican hot chocolates or chocolate bars modeled after the pre-Columbian Mesoamerican xocolatl, here's a new one for you: the Aztec Chai at Bourbon Coffee.

The Aztec Chai, as I read the menu, is a black tea latte (steeped black tea with steamed milk and foam), two shots of espresso, dark chocolate, and cayenne pepper. Woah now.

Foamy, spicy awesomeness.

What I liked about it: 

• Delicious
• Spicy! Mostly at the finish, but the drink had a solid kick that left my palate a little dry and tingly.
• Not too sweet. This is my beef with most coffee shop chais/lattes etc. They always end up saccharine sweet, which a) makes me sick and b) makes me feel like it's a kick in the gut, healthy-eating-wise.
• Delicious

What I didn't like about it:

• Only 16 oz? I don't know.

I think giving this place an awesome review will be my first legit Yelp review.