Between Morocco and a Hard Place

Photos by Cynthia

My typical approach to prepare for a meal is to stop at the store, find what looks good/interesting/new/fresh/on sale, mentally run through the home pantry, sketch out the menu, fill in the blanks, make the purchase, rush home, pull out every pot and pan in the house, turn every burner up to high, sear, flip, caramelize, reduce, pour, plate, serve, eat, leave the kitchen looking like the fire-bombing of Dresden, and start wondering what to eat next.

Slow cooking is Cynthia's territory.

We both love the savory phenomenon that can only be achieved after hours of meticulous planning and execution of a multi-layered and transforming low-and-slow cooking technique.

Cynthia has a natural affinity for it, for nurturing the dish through its revealing steps, and the patience to let the dish decide when it's ready.

Last November I gave her a beautiful terra cotta tagine from Morocco. She rewarded me with a beautiful citrus chicken tagine perfumed with hand-blended spices. We looked forward to many tasty Moroccan treats.

Some days later, cruising the Google, we found some postings warning about high lead content in most of the glazed terra cotta tagines made in Morocco. There had been no warnings or details about the glazed finish of Cynthia's tagine and the website offered no information, so we emailed the company asking about lead content in their tagines.

No reply.

After a series of unanswered emails, I sent a not-so-veiled threat that further unresponsiveness on their part would cause me to unleash my internet fury, denouncing their company on any appropriate websites.

In less than 24 hours we got this email:

Hello,

Our tagines are inspected at the port of arrival by the FDA and US Customs. If lead is found in the tagines, I believe their policy is that the tagines are destroyed and not allowed to be released. We have since changed companies from which we purchase tagines. Our newest shipment (due to arrive soon) comes with certification from the manufacturer that it is lead-free. This is a large, reputable manufacturer and we believe it is of the best quality to be found in Morocco. This allows both ourselves and our customers worry-free transactions with our tagines. If you are worried about the lead content from our old manufacturer, we welcome your returned tagine (please drop a note with your name so that we may trace the order) and we will ship you a new one.

We have our spam filters set to high to remove the thousands of pieces of junk email that we receive daily - in order that we may respond to our customers in a more efficient, speedy manner. Sometimes real emails inadvertently get caught in the filter and are deleted without our response. If that has been the case of your earlier emails, we apologize for the inconvenience and unnecessary worry this has caused you.

[Our Company] guarantees our products. If ever you have questions, please don’t hesitate to call us directly. Our toll-free number is ***-***-****.

Warm regards,
M****

Funny how their spam filter let my threatening email through...

Anyway, all is forgiven; we're boxing up the old one and looking forward to the shiny, new, certified-lead-free replacement to arrive.

While were waiting, I decided to try a non-tagine dish from the beautiful cookbook Moroccan Modern by Hassan M'souli. The dish doesn't really require slow cooking (the fowl simmers for only 30 minutes) but with the preparations, the marinade, the accompanying risotto and sauce, the meal took over four hours from start to finish.

I uncharacteristically followed the recipe somewhat faithfully. The original recipe is for squab, but not being under the elevated train with a .22, we opted for chicken thighs. I was also fresh out of orange blossom water, and while Cynthia makes beautiful preserved lemons, she is overdue for making a new batch, which takes at least 2 weeks.

I substituted a pinch of sugar with slices of 1/2 of a lemon. The dish, however, really needs the preserved lemon.

Charmoula Marinade:

• 1 tbsp dried chili
• 1 tbsp sweet paprika
• 1 tsp chopped ginger
• 1/2 tsp saffron threads
• 2 diced onions 2 bay leaves
• 1 tbsp toasted cumin seeds, ground
• 4 diced garlic cloves
• small handful each of chopped parsley and cilantro
• 1/2 preserved lemon
• 1/2 cup olive oil
• juice of 1/2 lemon
• sat and pepper
  

Mix all ingredients and let set for half an hour. Add the chicken and marinate for at least two hours.

To cook the chicken, heat peanut oil in a large pot. Season the chicken with salt and pepper and brown on both sides. Add about two cups of water, a cinnamon stick, and 4 whole cloves. Simmer for about a half hour.

When the chicken is cooked, remove it and keep in a warm oven. Strain the cooking liquid into a saucepan containing three tablespoons of butter, 1 to 2 tablespoons of toasted poppy seeds, a teaspoon of ground cinnamon, 1/2 cup of sugar and 8 - 10 oz of dried apricots.. Heat to bubbly and reduce until syrupy.

The chicken is served over saffron risotto cakes. For our meal tonite, I didn't take the time to chill and set the risotto, so I couldn't cut it into cakes. I served it as a conventional mound with the chicken piled unceremoniously on top.

To make the risotto cakes, add 1 1/2 cups of arborio rice to a pot containing one grated onion and 8 cloves of crushed garlic that have been sauteed with two seeded and diced tomatoes. Pour in 1/2 of 4 cups of chicken broth, add 1 tsp of saffron and stir constantly until the rice is sticky (about 15 - 20 minutes).

Add the remaining stock with a cup of chopped mushrooms and some lime zest. Stir another 5 or ten minutes until creamy.

Add about 3oz of grated parmigiano-reggiano and 5 tbsp butter. Stir until well combined. Pour into a pan about 1 1/2" deep and chill thoroughly.

Before serving, cut into squares and sear in a hot pan until crispy on both sides.

After chilling overnight, the risotto was firmly set and I could cut and sear the cakes. It's worth the time.

Smelts Like Victory

Photo by Cynthia

We frequently find fresh smelts in our local market, and I bought some yesterday. The only other place I regularly found smelts was in a big, bazaar-like fish market in San Jose, California. Besides their fresh fish offered for sale, they prepared a small menu of mostly fried seafood dishes served in the store. Baskets of fried smelts were probably the most popular.

So fried smelts for lunch it is.

dredged in Wondra that was seasoned with salt, pepper, paprika and dried red chilies, The smelts were fried in batches and kept warm in a 250º oven.

They were served with an onion-brussell sprout-potato hash, and a wasabi ketchup with sweet chili paste, lemon juice and a splash of worcestershire sauce.

I love the smell of smelts in the morning...

Lamb with Caulicous

Photos by Cynthia

Lamb chops can be pretty pricey, but a small chop can be very satisfying so they don't have to make the whole meal prohibitively expensive.

The chops were pretty straightforward. Dredged in the current version of the house espresso rub they were thrown on the hellfire of the grill for about three minutes per side.

As for the rub, every batch has its variants but they all start with the Usual Suspects:

• one part kosher salt
• one part ground black pepper
• one part onion powder
  
• two parts garlic salt

For the this version of espresso rub we add:

• two parts smoked sea salt
• two parts espresso powder
• two parts cumin
• Two parts dried porcini mushrooms ground into dust
  
• two parts tubinado sugar
  
• one part cocoa powder
• one part dried thyme
• one part dehydrated worcestershire sauce

I noticed that several commercial steak and burger rubs contain worcestershire powder. I like worcestershire sauce and really wanted to add that flavor to by arsenal of dry rubs without using the sauce (which would alter the texture of the dry rub crust). The only source I found is PackitGourmet. McCormick has a worcestershire black pepper that will do in a pinch.

One problem with this ingredient is that in our humid south coastal environment, if it's not kept super air-tight, the powder absorbs moisture and cures solid as a brick - worse than the rock-hard brown sugar blocks we always half to bust up.

Anyway, the chops were accompanied by caramelized leeks and brussel sprouts which had some radishes tossed in for the last couple of minutes.

I love sauteed radishes. The cooking tempers their bite and the red color is a welcome contrast to the browns and greens that dominate my dishes.

The second side dish was my take on the newly-trendy cauliflower couscous.

The cauliflower florets were chopped in a food processor into a size resembling small couscous grains. I was going to cook them with a harissa sauce, but when I found we didn't have any, I made my own mock harissa. I chopped three cloves of garlic, a dash of coriander seeds and part of a poblano pepper in the food processor. I blended in some Olive oil, a sprinkle of dried cayenne flakes and a squirt of tomato paste.

The caulicous was sauteed until softened. The mock harissa was stirred in and cooked for about two minutes.

It wasn't couscous with harissa.

But it was good. Really good.

Revenge of the Scotch Bonnet

Photos by Cynthia

I had bought parsnips for some shoestring fries and a parsnip galette and still had three parsnips left over. I thought a nice chilled soup would be refreshing for one of our humid summer evenings, so I ad-libbed a parsnip vichyssoise.

• the white part of four leaks thin-sliced and sauteed in olive oil with pinch o'salt,
• the juice of one lemon squeezed into the pot,
  
• three thinly sliced parsnips added and softened,
• more salt and pepper
  
• chicken stock added to cover and simmered for 15-20 minutes,
• about a 1/2 to 3/4 of a pint of heave cream added
• puree with a stick blender until smooth,
• heat until bubbly.

At this point, let the soup cool then refrigerate overnight. Before serving stir in some milk or more cream to get the consistency you desire.

I did cheat at this last step and saved a couple of fat calories by using fat free half and half. It maintains the silky texture of the soup although it adds some sweetness. You could add more lemon juice, but instead I added a crushed vitamin C tablet to boost the citric acid without adding more lemon flavor.

The main course was sauteed scallops over soba noodles. I made a quick sauce of seasoned rice vinegar, fish sauce, lime juice, chopped scallion and garlic. Then, emboldened by my trial outing with the scotch bonnet, I chopped up the remaining two-thirds of the fiery fruit, tossed in into the sauce with the bay scallops, and sauteed with chopped baby bok choy and sliced carrot until the scallops were just opaque.

The boiled buckwheat noodles were dressed in peanut oil and lime juice, then topped with the scallop mixture.

I was just beginning to appreciate the complex fruitiness of the scotch bonnet when the entire front of my seared mouth started screaming bloody murder. I nobly fought the fiery beast for a few more stabs, but ultimately laid down my skewer in defeat.

Cynthia finished her helping in due order. She did admit though, that it was "pretty hot."

Sirius Star Salsa

Photos by Cynthia

Several months ago I saw someone on the teevee make a starfruit salsa. That seemed like a fun idea and I looked for starfruit at my next shopping trip. No starfruit. It's usually found in the major stores around here, so I kept an eye out for it to show up in the next few weeks.

I finally spied some yesterday and snatched it up. The seafood case had red snapper that looked and smelled fresh, and thusly armed, I headed home.

I decided to go vaguely Caribbean. While not attempting anything resembling Jerk, I did decide it was time to chop up a scotch bonnet.

Despite my declared devotion to chili, I am a somewhat wimpy when it comes to truly hot, spicy food. Cynthia, on the other hand, has a constitution of titanium, and her years in Louisiana gave her a special affinity for chiles and peppers. Cooking with her has expanded my taste and tolerance for spicy heat, and so today I am emboldened to take on the Big Kahuna, and create the Sirius Starfruit Salsa.

Sirius means "scorching" in Greek. Get it? I'm so clever...

The pepper that I bought was from a bin labeled "habanero;" I've heard several cooks refer to habeneros and scotch bonnets as the same thing but they are not: they have a slightly different shape and the flavor of the scotch bonnet is part of the distinctive taste of Caribbean cuisine. I am convinced, however, that most supermarkets stock them interchangeably. The habaneros that I found seemed to have more of the tam o'shanter shape of the scotch bonnet, and since that was my only choice anyway, what-the heck.

The starfruit was given a fine dice along with some red onion and tomato. Since the quantity of the salsa was going to be quite small, I was a little paranoid about too much of the hot pepper, so, holding the combustible fruit only by its stem, I sliced off about half, gave it a really fine chop, scooped it up with the blade of my Global and tossed it in.

I was convinced as I chopped some cilantro on the same cutting board that my hands were starting to burn, but that passed.

I splashed in some garlic juice, olive oil, pineapple juice, and a squirt of lime. Into the fridge it went.

The snapper was given a light sprinkling of curry rub and seared skin-side down. After flipping, it was simmered for a couple of minutes in pineapple juice, then removed from the pan and into a warm oven. A little coconut milk was added to the pan and reduced for about three minutes.

The snapper was presented with grilled zucchini and shoe-string parsnip fries, dotted with the pan sauce and topped with the salsa.

All in all, it was a tasty dish: the fries were crisp and sweet, the fish moist with a mild sear, and the salsa was fresh, zesty, and flavorful.

And not very hot.

I guess I took the scotch bonnet a little too siriusly.

(somebody stop me...)

Letters, I Get Letters

Reader SK writes:

"What kind of clams do you harvest locally? And what kind of clams did you pick up at the market? I love to learn regional differences. If you're gonna write this stuff, I need specifics."

(Okay, it's my friend Steve again. No one else reads this dang blog...)

Coquina, jackknife and surf clams are found in our tidal waters. The clams that Richard and I harvested were probably butterfly clams.


Also known as the white sand clam, this species can be buried to a depth of 20 inches. Because they can bury so deep, they have few predators.

None of the local supermarkets or restaurants carry much of the native seafood. The smaller fish mongers tend to have meager supplies of the daily catch. We have good local shrimp, and oysters which can be bought by the bushel.

The clams featured in our dish were little necks from Canada, I think. We also regularly get mahogany clams which have a beautiful golden brown color, but don't actually have much flavor. Steamer clams are starting to appear more often.

Wherever they come from, a day with clams is a good day.

Clam Chowder Nouveau

Photo by Cynthia

We live on the Carolina coastline and our friend and colleague Richard loves to go clamming. I once went with him to share the pleasure of slogging through the skanky mud in two thousand percent humidity, and clawing the elusive clams out of the reeds. After about 90 minutes, and after I had dug myself out of the slime because I headed forward but my hip boots stayed behind, we headed home with about a dozen clams each and wondered if it was worth it.

It was, and I look forward to doing it again.

But not for awhile.

The clams in this dish, however, were not from that day. These market clams beckoned from the cool crushed ice in the seafood aisle and were far more accessible than those locked in the roots of the bulrushes.

The broth was made of softened onions and garlic simmered in olive oil, white wine and diced tomatoes with some bay leaf, fresh basil, oregano, and a teaspoon of seafood demi-glace. The clams were roasted in a dry pan to concentrate their juices, then added to the broth along with jumbo rings of boiled calamarata pasta. Topped with chopped olives and peppers from the market's self-serve olive bar, the briny olive medley is all the salt you need.