Shrimp linguini with collard greens

North Carolina's mild winters allow some crops to grow year-round. The best greens of the year come during the winter, when the cold temperatures increase the sugar content in the leaves and give everything from lettuce to kale a crisp texture and sweet flavor.

 Collard greens are especially abundant, inexpensive and nutrient-rich. You can saute them with anchovies and lemon juice and serve them as a side dish, or add eat them with pasta and shrimp like I prefer. 

Flounder, Piccatta Style

I'm torn each week when Walking Fish emails me a description of the week's fresh catch. I love the challenge of a new species, as it gives me an excuse to read up on them and decide how to prepare them. But I also love the old reliables, like clams and flounder, because they challenge me to find new ways to prepare them.

We receive flounder at least once a month. Shefali and I have eaten it grilled, oven baked, fried with chips, seasoned and sauteed, and even in po' boy sandwiches. This week, we substituted it for chicken in one of my family's favorite recipes.

Piccatta is traditionally prepared with veal and involves breading and frying the meat, removing it from the pan and building an accompanying sauce that features lemon and capers. Chicken is a very popular substitution for veal and my family's choice growing up (my mother refuses to cook or eat veal). We ate it over a bed of linguine.

When I prepared the flounder Piccatta style I chose not to pair it with pasta. A breaded and pan-fried meat holds its own in a subtle sauce, but when it's paired with pasta it often loosens up and kills the meat's texture. Cooks work so hard to achieve the golden, crunchy exterior that it's best enjoyed alongside some other starch. We paired ours with roasted potatoes and a salad.

Flounder, Piccatta Style

4 tbs olive oil

2 pounds flounder fillets

4 cloves garlic, diced 

3-4 tbs shallot, diced

a handful of fresh parsley, chopped

1/2 cup dry white wine. I use a sauvignon blanc

2 tsp capers, drained and rinsed

2 lemons, halved or quartered

flour for dusting

salt and pepper, to taste

1.  Heat the olive oil in a pan.

2. Season a plate of flour with salt and pepper, then dredge both sides of the fillets. Shake off the excess flour, then fry both sides in the oil, about 3 minutes each.

3. Remove the fillets and add the garlic. As soon as the garlic begins to brown add the shallot.

4. When the shallots become translucent (about 5 minutes), add the wine, juice from 1 lemon and capers. Be sure to scrape the bottom of the pan with a wooden spoon to break up the loose bits. They add massive flavor to the sauce.

5. Let the wine simmer for about 5 minutes or until it no longer smells of alcohol, then return the fish to the pan and add the parsley. Let the flavors combine and flip the fish at least once.

6. Add extra lemon juice, salt and pepper to taste, then serve.

Christmas Comes Early

My mother-in-law, Arati, has arrived in the U.S. to help us care for our new son.

Just her casual Sunday dinner of channa masala, kofta curry, kachumber and naan. All made fresh and from scratch.

I have much to learn while she's here. Recipes to follow!

Don't Throw Away Your Carrot Tops

Last weekend I watched a market vendor cut the greens from a bunch of carrots and throw them into a large bin before handing the orange roots to a customer.

"What do you do with the greens?" I asked as I paid her for my own bunch.

"Feed 'em to the rabbits," she said.

"You don't cook with them?"

"We never have," she said. "The greens are chewy, and they taste like...carrots."

Intrigued, I kept my greens and asked her for extra from her rabbit bin.

"Knock yourself out," she said. "and let me know what you come up with."

I tasted a stalk and agreed that they are indeed chewy. And the greens do taste like carrots, but the texture and small leaves also remind me of parsley. Surely there's a meal that can utilize this forgotten part of one of America's most common vegetables.

As I thought of the foods most commonly paired with carrots - celery and onion in soups, cabbage in coleslaw, nuts and cream cheese in carrot cake, etc. - I recalled market director Erin Kaufman's recent note about pesto in her weekly email:

The word pesto originates from the Italian word ""pestare", which means to pound.  Pesto is just an adjective that means "pounded".  When we think of pesto, basil immediately comes to mind, since it is common and delicious sauce for pasta, potatoes, etc.  This week, after an illuminating conversation with Phoebe from Scratch (and a piece of pie that included radish top pesto), I was reminded that you can make pesto out of all kinds of things.  And right now, the Market is bursting at the seams with green things that you can pound up into a delicious paste that you can add to all kinds of dishes.
I'd seen pesto recipes that called for parsley to compliment basil and arugula. Since pesto is a good way to break down large quantities of greens and herbs into small but potent servings, why wouldn't it work with carrot greens?

It felt like a proud moment of culinary trail blazing (though I'm far from the first person to make carrot green pesto), and the result works great on sandwiches (especially leftover turkey sandwiches...), sitting on the surface of a bowl of soup, and even tossed with roasted potatoes.

Carrot Green Pesto

2 large handfuls carrot greens, stems removed

2 garlic cloves

1 small handful roasted almonds

15 basil leaves 

1/4-1/2 cup olive oil, depending on desired taste and thickness

1 handful Parmesan cheese

salt and pepper

1. Combine the carrot greens, basil, garlic and almonds in a mortar and pestle or food processor.

2. As you mix, pound or pulse the ingredients into a paste, slowly add the olive oil until you reach the desired thickness.

3. Add the cheese, salt and pepper and serve. 

**Note: to thin pesto, add additional oil. To thicken it, add cheese.

 

Diwali 2011

For the first time since moving to the U.S. in 2001, Shefali celebrated the Diwali holiday in style by hosting a party and serving traditional Indian food.

Diwali is a Hindu celebration of lights. It occurs each fall,when a new moon arrives sometime between mid-October and mid-November (it fell on October 26 this year). Shefali's family also takes time during Diwali to honor Laksmi, goddess of wealth. They usually celebrate with fireworks, alcohol, gambling, and of course great food.

In preparation, we woke up early Saturday morning and drove to Cary's "little India" district to shop for authentic groceries like chaat masala, tandoori paste (I have never tried making my own), bitter mango, desi dahi and green chutney. After we hit Patel Brothers' grocery store we bought fresh kaju katri and golab jamun from Mithai across the street. The guys at Mittai make traditional desserts in-house, and they're the best we've had on this side of the world.

We returned home and began cooking around 2:30. Shef made a huge batch of her mother's world famous chicken curry while I threw together the kachumber, eggplant bhartha and broiled okra. The meal came together around 7 p.m., just as twelve friends and neighbors climbed our candle-lit staircase and joined us to feast.

After dinner we crushed the desserts, then laid a bed sheet on the living room floor. In honor of Laksmi, everyone drank beer and played poker. It was a great way to celebrate and share the holiday with others, especially since several of our friends ate (and loved) Indian food for the first time.

Diwali will likely become an annual affair, as we're already talking about how bottles of Kingfisher, Bollywood music and fireworks will make next year's party a real bash. Until then, enjoy the recipes.

Arati's Eggplant Bhartha

1/2 cup spring onions, chopped

3 large eggplants

1 15-oz can diced tomatoes

2 tsp corriander

2 tsp cumin

2 tsp turmeric

1 tsp red chili powder (to taste)

fresh cilantro

salt, to taste

1. Roast the eggplant in a 400-degree oven until the skin gets quite crisp (about 25 minutes), then peel and chop into cubes. Roasting the eggplant gives it a lovely smokey flavor.  

 NOTE: If pressed for time, skip step one and simply cube the eggplant.

2. combine all ingredients and cook on low heat for approximately 60 minutes. When the ingredients are blended together and the excess water from the veggies has dried up, balance the seasonings, add a handful of cilantro leaves and serve.

Broiled Okra with Chaat Masala

1 pound fresh okra, preferably small, thin pods

3 tbs olive oil

salt

pepper

2+ tsp chaat masala

1. Set the oven to broil, then half the okra lengthwise and toss with the olive oil and chaat masala.

2. Arrange the okra in a baking dish, skin side down, and broil until crisp, about 30 minutes.

3. Add additional chaat masala to taste and serve. 

Triggerfish

Walking Fish has been delivering a great variety of seafood this fall. I've received flounder, spot, shrimp, clams and triggerfish all in the past month.


Triggerfish live throughout the Atlantic and can grow to 13 pounds. They are a tall, narrow fish that hides from predators by fitting into thin crevices.

Triggerfish deliveries are especially exciting, not just for me but for the guy standing behind me in the pickup line last week as well.

"This is the reason I buy Walking Fish shares," he said, admiring the bags of firm, white fillets.

"How do you cook it?" I asked.

"Grilled or broiled, no seasoning. This fish has a rich, buttery flavor that stands on its own."

Inspired by his simplicity, I pan-seared the fillets in olive oil, adding only salt and lemon. Triggerfish have flesh similar to grouper, so they keep their shape as you cook them, even at high temperatures. I seared each side on high heat for 2-3 minutes.

The guy waiting in line behind me was right. This fish needs little to no seasoning. We ate it alongside fresh pepperonata, potatoes and salad.

The green plate was a bad choice.

Pepperonata is a great option this time of year, because nearly all the ingredients are available locally. There are hundreds of ways to prepare it, but this recipe is both substantial and unique because it includes potatoes. This preparation was largely influenced by the recipe in Toni Lydecker's Seafood Alla Siciliana. 

Pepperonata with Potatoes

Serves 4

4 tbs olive oil

4 cloves garlic, diced

1 small onion, chopped

5-6 small sweet bell peppers (or 2-3 large ones), cut into strips or squares

1 pound potatoes (preferably small and red-skinned), cubed

2 tomatoes, peeled and chopped**

crushed red pepper, to taste

salt, to taste

**To peel tomatoes, cut out the core, then immerse them in boiling water for about 30 seconds. As soon as the skin starts to separate, plunge them into a bowl of ice water, then peel them. 

1. Heat the olive oil over medium heat, then add the garlic.

2. When the garlic is fragrant but not brown (30-60 seconds)

3. Add the anchovies and stir them until they dissolve into the oil.

4. Add the peppers, crushed red pepper (optional), potatoes, tomatoes, salt (Lydecker recommends 1/2 tsp), and 1/2 cup water. 

5. Stir, cover and let simmer for about 30 minutes, or until the potatoes are tender. Check the pan regularly and add extra water, if necessary. This side can be served warm or at room temperature. 

Vodka Sauce - a Variation

One way to quickly judge an Italian restaurant's menu is to scan the number of different sauces it pairs with pasta. All too often restaurants will serve a dozen different pasta shapes "tossed in a cream sauce." It's hard to screw up a cream sauce, since large doses of dairy (like heavy cream) can mask even the most horrendous sauces. When I see a menu full of cream sauces, I immediately lower my expectations.

That does not, however, mean that all cream sauces are garbage.

One way to build great flavor into a cream sauce is to add liquor, let the alcohol cook away, then add the cream. This will give you a base of flavors in the sauce that the cream won't overwhelm.

A great example is the brandy cream sauce at Bocci. Its bold flavor includes, but isn't limited to, the cream that thickens it. Plus, it's great with seafood. Bocci's former (Sicilian) chef, Michelle Rizzo, used to offer a dish called "crepes alla Michelle," featuring shrimp and scallops in the brandy cream sauce, served over an egg crepe instead of pasta. It was my favorite meal on the menu.

One of Shefali's favorite sauces is the more traditional vodka sauce. Often served at restaurants with sausage and penne, the vodka, black pepper, and crushed red pepper makes it spicier than most cream sauces. We make it at home regularly and experiment with different ways to serve it.

I've found that crab meat works especially well with vodka sauce. It's a lighter protein source than sausage, which works well because it offsets the heavy cream, and the sweetness of the crab meat compliments the acidity from the tomatoes. In honor of chef Rizzo, we eat it over eggs.

Vodka Sauce with Crab Over Crepes

Serves 4

1 pound (or more) lump crab meat, cooked
4 tbs olive oil

5 cloves garlic, diced

1+ tsp crushed red pepper

1 28-oz can crushed tomatoes or 2 cups Christopher Sauce  or 2 pounds fresh tomatoes, cored, peeled and chopped

1/2 cup vodka

1 cup cream

1/2 tsp black pepper

12 fresh basil leaves, chopped or 1 tsp dried basil

salt

1. Heat the olive oil in a sauce pan, then add the garlic. 

2. As the garlic begins to brown, add the crushed red pepper and let cook for 30 seconds.

3. Add the tomatoes or Christopher Sauce and simmer for 10 minutes. After 10 minutes, add salt to taste.

4. Add the vodka, stir, and let simmer for another 5 minutes.

5. Add the cream, black pepper and basil. Stir and simmer for 5 more minutes.

6. Transfer the sauce to a blender or food processor and mix until it becomes a rough puree.

7. Return it to the pan, add the crab, simmer for a couple more minutes and serve.

Egg Crepes

8 eggs

1/4 cup milk or cream

2 tbs olive oil or butter

salt

1. Beat eggs together with milk and salt.

2. Heat the olive oil in a skillet, then add 1/4 of the egg batter.

3. Let the batter set. Run a spatula underneath it to keep it from sticking. Flip the egg once, let it cook through, then slide out of the pan.

4. Roll the crepe on a plate and top with the sauce.

5. Repeat.

Meals of the month - September 2011

Each month, Shefali and I stumble upon some fantastic meals. Some of them are out around town, and others we make at home by following someone else's recipe. Here are September's highlights:

- Spaghetti and meatballs, family-style. A group of our friends takes turns hosting dinners each month. Our turn came up in September, so I simmered a pot of Christopher Sauce overnight, rolled meatballs the following morning and threw them in the pot to cook all day. The meatball recipe, to my knowledge, has never been written down. Someday I'll take the time to measure the ingredients and post it. 

- Fresh shrimp from Walking Fish. It's going to be hard to cook with frozen bags of shrimp now that I've eaten the real thing. We received three pounds of them, and grilled them all, tossing the first batch in salmorilgio sauce, topping the second in buffalo sauce and eating them in a sandwich with pea shoots and ranch dressing, and throwing the batch in a seafood risotto.

- Crab Cakes and Fava Bean Salad at Vita: I don't often order crab cakes, but Vita was offering it as a special. They were the best I've had since moving to NC. Vita's one of our favorite restaurants right now. The menu isn't extensive, but what they do (fresh pasta, bread, brunch), they do well. Plus, they do it for a student-friendly price, as entrees start at just $9.

- The "Sicilian Cash Cow" - Francois Xavier's blog hasn't been updated in a couple years, but the multilingual Swiss has a passion for Sicilian food. The "cash cow" is his version of a popular Sicilian dish from a favorite Italian restaurant in Geneva. As the weather cools off, baked pasta becomes relevant again. This one makes great use of fall veggies like eggplant and sweet bell peppers.

- The Durham Farmer's Market Chef Challenge. This celebration of okra was phenomenal. read about it here.

Chef Challenge Recap

Though the forecast called for steady rain, the weather cooperated on Saturday morning and the third annual Durham Farmer’s Market Chef Challenge was a success.

Beginning at 8:30, Fank Stasio, serving as emcee, introduced chefs Billy Cotter (Toast), Josh DeCarolis (Dos Perros and Jujube), and Shane Magowan (Geer Street Garden) and judges Johanna Kramer, Ross Grady, Heather Greer Klein and myself. A modest crowd gathered on the market lawn when he announced the secret ingredient: Okra!

The chefs had two hours to buy their ingredients at the market and prepare entrees for the four judges as well as 70 samples for the crowd.

Muscadine Season

Each fall, I can't resist buying a pint of local muscadine grapes. Also known throughout North Carolina as scuppernogs, few foods have such a strong local connection. In addition to the numerous NC wineries that feature muscadines, NC State University's Cooperative Extension website explains Carolinians' unique love affair with this spunky fruit:


Muscadine grapes are well adapted to the Coastal Plain of North Carolina, where temperatures seldom fall below 10°F. Considerable injury generally occurs where winter temperatures drop below 0°F. Some of the more hardy cultivars such as 'Magnolia', 'Carlos' and 'Sterling' survive northward to Virginia and westward to the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Muscadines have a high degree of tolerance to pests and diseases that makes the production of bunch grapes nearly impossible in eastern North Carolina. There is no other fruit with such strong personal associations for so many native North Carolinians. The fruit has a distinct fruity or "musky" aroma, while the juice by itself is sweet with a light taste and aroma. The fruit is very popular with native Southerners for making into wine, pies and jellies. 

I'm a big fan of the muscadine's sweet, mild flesh, but its tough skin and numerous seeds (there can be as many as five in each berry) can be a challenge. I found a way around the skin and seeds tonight by substituting muscadines for the raspberries in my dad's dessert recipe. We strained the sauce, then poured it over a bowl of vanilla ice cream and sliced banana.

If anyone has a favorite way to use muscadines, leave a comment! 

Whose Cuisine Reigns Supreme?

I'll be participating as a judge this Saturday, September 24 at the Durham Farmer's Market's third annual chef challenge.

Billy Cotter of Toast, Josh DeCarolis of Dos Perros, and Andy Magowan of Geer Street Garden will create meals using a secret ingredient in hopes of earning them the title of 2011 champ. They will also provide samples of their creations to market shoppers throughout the morning. Don't miss it!

Grilled Peaches with Rasberry-Balsamic Sauce

The Christopher males are not known for their desserts, but I mentioned in last week's post that my dad made a very simple one that everybody loved. The sauce features two different kinds of summer fruit and works well as a topping for many different foods. Apparently my mom puts it on everything from bananas to cottage cheese.

 

Grilled Peaches with Rasberry-Balsamic Sauce

2 pints ripe fresh raspberries

2 Tbs balsamic vinegar

3-4 Tbs sugar depending on how sweet you like it

3 Fresh ripe peaches

2Tbs butter

2 Tbs brown sugar

Vanilla ice cream

 

1. Combine the sugar and balsamic vinegar in a saucepan and heat until sugar is fully dissolved.  

 

2. Slightly crush the raspberries and add them to the saucepan.  Cook on medium heat for 10 minutes while stirring routinely.  

 

3. Once it's done, you can serve as is or put the mixture through a sieve to remove the seeds for a smooth sauce.  The sauce can be kept refrigerated for 1-2 weeks.

 

4. Cut peaches in half and remove the pit. 

 

5. Combine brown sugar and butter in a pan and heat until sugar dissolved.  While the mixture is still hot, brush the peaches with the mixture on the flesh side.  

 

6. Put the peaches flesh side down on a hot grill. Grill until they are glazed and the peaches begin to soften.

 

7. Place a peach in a bowl, add a small scoop of vanilla ice cream and cover with your raspberry sauce.

A Family Meal, Starring an Unfamiliar Leaf

The Ohio Christophers visited us for Labor Day weekend. Any time the family gets together an epic meal occurs, so before everyone went to work building nursery furniture, throwing a baby shower and watching college football, I took them to the farmer's market for inspiration.

The market was as busy as I've ever seen it, but that didn't stop us from picking up fresh peppers, onions, garlie, eggs and sweet potato greens. That evening, we recreated Tony's Three Pepper Parade along with fresh fetuccine, sauteed sweet potato greens (recipe after the jump), tomato and bean salad and grilled peaches with ice cream and a rasberry-balsamic sauce for dessert.

Three Pepper Parade

This week's post comes from Cleveland, where my brother used local meat, produce and pasta to create a most excellent photo and meal.

Hello blogger friends! This weekend I used a variety of ingredients from my Fresh Fork CSA basket and made a dynomite Italian dish.

I call it "Italian Three Pepper Parade," or stuffed bell and banana peppers over red pepper pasta. Here's how I did it:

Pasta Alla Norma

I took another trip to the farmer's market on Saturday...and came home with four more pounds of eggplant. This week, it went into pasta alla Norma.

Pasta alla norma is almost as old as the island of Sicily itself. Named after the heroine in Vincenzo Bellini's famous opera, Norma, the two-act performance tells the story of the Druid priestess Norma, whose husband Pollione tries to run away to Rome with the Adalgisa, another priestess. Out of loyalty to Norma, Adalgisa tells her about the affair. Norma considers murdering her two children but decides to leave them with Adalgisa instead. Adalgisa, however, then renounces her love for Pollione and urges him to return to his wife.

Infuriated, Norma calls a meeting with the Druids and declares war against the Pollione's Romans. The declaration requires a sacrifice, which conveniently presents itself when Pollione is caught entering the temple of virgins to visit Adalgisa and is subsequently sentenced to death. Minutes before Pollione's execution Norma, deeply saddened by the turn of events, decides to take his place. Inspired by her benevolence, Pollione rekindles his love for his wife and joins her in the pyre.

First produced in 1831, Norma was immediately hailed a success, so much so that people began using the title as a term of endearment. For example, one's favorite music could be called "musica alla Norma," the best poetry "poesia alla Norma." As the pasta became one of Sicily's most famous dishes, it became known as pasta alla Norma.

I don't know about you, but all this talk about lyric tragedies is making me hungry. Let's move on to the recipe.
The innumerable variations of this recipe typically include:

- eggplant, fried in oil before its added to the sauce
- tomatoes
- cheese
- pasta
-a spicy pepper
-fresh basil

Here's my take:

Pasta Alla Norma

vegetable oil 

olive oil

2 pounds eggplant, cut into 1/2" cubes

4 cloves garlic*

2 tsp salt 

crushed red pepper, to taste

1 big can of diced tomatoes or 2 cups Christopher Sauce or 2 cups fresh tomatoes, peeled and diced

12 fresh basil leaves, roughly chopped

1/4 pound roughly-grated ricotta salata**

1 box short, tubular pasta, like penne or rigatoni

*If you're using a premade sauce (that already includes garlic) instead of tomatoes, consider reducing or omitting the garlic

**Ricotta salata is salted sheep's milk ricotta cheese. It's much more firm than regular ricotta. Substituting ricotta produces a smooth, creamy sauce that's different in texture but equally raucous. Another option is to substitute another firm, salty cheese like pecorino romano. 

1. Placed the diced eggplant and salt in a strainer with a bowl underneath, then put something heavy on top. Let the eggplant sit for an hour. During this time, the salt will pull the bitter juices from the eggplant pieces into the bowl underneath the strainer. 

2. Fill the bottom of a saucepan with 1/4" of vegetable oil. When the oil is hot (test it), add the eggplant.

3. Stir the eggplant frequently as it fries, being careful not to break the pieces. Add more oil if necessary. When the eggplant has turned golden brown, remove them with a slotted spoon and place them on a plate lined with paper towel to dry. 

**Note: now would be a good time to begin boiling your pasta water

4. Discard the vegetable oil from the pan. Wipe the pan clean and return it to medium heat. 

5. Add 2 tbs olive oil to the now empty saucepan. Just before the oil begins to smoke, add the garlic. As the garlic begins to brown, add the crushed red pepper and let simmer for 30 seconds.

6. Add the tomatoes and simmer until the sauce thickens, 5-10 minutes. 

7.  When the sauce has reached its desired consistency, add the eggplants and fresh basil and let the sauce simmer on low heat for 5 more minutes.

8 Serve the sauce over pasta and garnish with grated cheese and additional basil. 

All Hail the Tomato

Growing up in Iowa, summer really hit its stride when the tomatoes began to ripen. I knew they were ripe when I could smell the plants themselves - the earthy aroma of the vines - from the porch in our backyard, 50 feet from the garden. When the time came to pick them, my mom would take a basket and ask for my help. I'd look for the ripe ones, asking for her approval before picking the first two or three. After I got the hang of it I'd sneak away, find the biggest one on the vine, pluck it and eat it like an apple. The juices would run down my face and the seeds would stick to the collar of my shirt, but she'd only smile and encourage me.

"That's the best way to do it!" she'd say. "Eat as many as you can."

She wasn't as encouraging when I tried it with an expensive store-bought tomato in December, but it happened only once because I immediately learned that the two shouldn't even be in the same food group.

Now that it's tomato season, I urge you to do two things:

1. Pick a tomato off a vine and eat it like an apple. Don't wash it, don't bring it inside the house. Eat it right there, next to the vine, preferably barefoot.

2. Cook them as little as possible, if at all.

Fresh tomatoes are obviously great in salads and on sandwiches. They also make the best pasta sauces. Every year I buy upwards of 10 pounds of San Marzanos, core, peel and seed them and make old-fashioned sauce. This, however, takes quite a bit of time, both outside in the heat during the day acquiring them and later over the heat of the stove.

Most summer nights I'd rather eat them raw with pasta. It's a popular choice in Italy as well, often called "salsa fresca" or "salsa cruda." I dice the tomatoes, add olive oil, garlic and fresh herbs and toss it with the pasta as soon as it leaves the boiling water. The sauce is never cooked, but the pasta and residual cooking water heats everything just enough to blend the flavors.

I never measure the quantities of the ingredients I use in a salsa cruda, so it's hard to call it a recipe. However, NY Times food writer Mark Bittman provided a list of his favorite summer tomato recipes last week. One of his 12 very simple recipes is nearly identical to my own salsa cruda:

Mark Bittman's Salsa Cruda for Pasta (or Anything Else)

Ingredients

1 1/2 pounds tomatoes, chopped

3 tablespoons olive oil

3 garlic cloves, light crushed

1/2 cup chopped basil

1/2 pound pasta

Preparation

1. Mash together tomatoes, olive oil, garlic cloves and chopped basil. 

2. Let sit while you cook pasta, then fish out garlic and toss (add some pasta-cooking water if necessary). 

3. Garnish with more chopped basil.

Caponata

There are great veggies in season at the farmer's market this time of year, like fresh onions, eggplant, tomatoes and sweet bell peppers. This also makes it a great time of year to make a huge supply of caponata.

Caponata is an ancient Sicilian relish. It's both sweet and sour, thanks to doses of sugar and vinegar, and goes great with bread as well as grilled meats and fish. Similar to pepperonata, the addition of meaty chunks of eggplant, olives, capers and dried fruit make it authentically Sicilian. It's also a great way to cool off a summer dinner, as its served at room temperature or colder.

A Most Interesting Experiment

Most foodies are familiar with the grass-fed beef debate by now. They're also familiar with the differences in price, quality and availability between grass and grain-fed meat. While families everywhere were making difficult decisions regarding the cost versus quality of the meat they eat every week, Amy Wattles made a very different decision.

Wattles had grown frustrated by the quality of grain-fed beef from industrial farms available at her local grocery stores, but she also didn't want to pay six dollars or more per pound for grass-fed beef for herself and her family. So, she visited a livestock auction, bought one cow, paid someone five dollars a month to keep in in a pasture, hired a local butcher when it was ready to be slaughtered and ended up with 500 pounds of high-quality, grass-fed meat that ended up costing her about $1.50 per pound.

She shared here experience at elitefts.com, which I've copied below: 

A Walking Fish Special Delivery

Walking Fish finished its summer deliveries last month while we were out of the country, so our shares of shrimp went to a friend. Of all the great seafood deliveries people rave the most about the fresh shrimp, so I was disappointed I missed it.

Luckily, Walking Fish offered a one-time shrimp delivery in July to appease those who couldn't wait for the white shrimp this fall. I jumped on it and cooked them as soon as I picked them up.

I remember my parents cooking fresh shrimp during our family vacations at the Outer Banks. They served them plain, with cocktail sauce or tossed in Old Bay seasoning and butter. Fresh seafood needs little, if any, seasoning, so I prepared mine using only what I had on hand at the house.

Land Locked Summer Shrimp

2 lb fresh shrimp, peeled and deveined

6 tbs olive oil

1 tsp crushed red pepper (optional)

4 cloves garlic, chopped

1 lemon

12 cherry tomatoes, halved

1 handful fresh parsley

1. add 4 tbs olive oil to a very hot pan. Just as the oil begins to smoke, add the shrimp. Sear shrimp for about 3 minutes, then flip and cook for another 2 minutes. Be careful not to overcook.

2. When the shrimp is cooked through, remove from the pan and set aside. In the now empty pan, add 2 tbs olive oil. 

3. When the oil is hot (beginning to smoke), add the garlic.

4. As soon as the garlic begins to brown, add the crushed red pepper (if you want it spicy). 30 seconds later, add the tomatoes. 

5. When the tomatoes begin to wilt, cut the lemon in half and squeeze the juice from one half of it over the pan and stir. The lemon juice should deglaze the bottom of the pan.

6. Return the shrimp to the pan, add the parsley and stir. Season with salt and pepper.

We ate it with crusty bread and salad.

Carolina BBQ - Old School

My brother visited from Cleveland last weekend, and the July heat and humidity here in NC nearly made him shave his grizzly beard. After spending much of Saturday outside, I couldn't think of a better way to help him relax than showing him the southern tradition standing over a smoking grill for an hour and a half.

Without the time to barbecue a big piece of pork and a traditional meat smoker, we used a charcoal grill and chicken instead. Many steps, several hours and multiple cold beverages later, we reeked of smoke but didn't care because the food was awesome.

Here's how we did it.

Gluten Free Chicken Parm

One thing Indian and Italian families seem to have in common is the tradition of eating your way through family visits. Meals tend to be long, frequent and excessive, and after awhile you forget what it feels like to be "hungry." My brother-in-law, Manek flew down frown New York with his girlfriend this weekend, so we acted accordingly.

Manek's favorite Italian dish is Chicken Parmesan, so we make it at home every time he visits. These days, however, he's following a gluten and dairy free diet, so we had to get creative. I don't remember my family making Chicken Parmesan growing up, so I learned from Mario Batali. This time, we made a few adjustments, the most obvious one being serving it with polenta instead of pasta. We also only coated the chicken in bread crumbs and not flour - something I would change next time.

Regardless, it turned out pretty awesome.

Farmers in the spotlight

An article titled "Want to Earn More than a Banker? Become a Farmer!" in last week's Time caught my attention. Written by Steve Gandel, the article highlights an agricultural revival in the US that hasn't occurred in decades. Gandel also notes that the upswing could create opportunities in developing markets overseas:

"The average American consumes about 250 lb. (113 kg) of meat a year. The average Indian eats less than 10 lb. (4.5 kg) a year. In China, it's more like 100 lb. (45 kg). Which means there's a lot of room for growth. Half of U.S. corn production goes to feed cattle, pigs and poultry, which drives up demand for grain."

While it's obvious the two most populous nations in the world could consume more American meat, India's "room for growth" might be a lot more complicated than it appears. 

Gandel definitely did more homework on this topic than I did, but having just visited India and seen first hand the eating habits in Bombay, I don't believe Indians will be consuming even 50 pounds of meat anytime soon.

Arati's Chicken Curry

Tracking down family recipes isn't easy. The mothers who made the meals famous learned from their mother or mother-in-law over the course of many years of coaching and supervision, so that the technique becomes part of her DNA long before it's ever written down. Perhaps this is part of what makes "home food" so awesome, as it's about about the people and the place as much as the recipe. Try as we may to recreate it on the other side of the world, it's not always easy to replicate.

One morning, before the rest of the family was up and moving, I camped out in my mother-in-law's kitchen while she cooked the day's basic chicken curry - the same chicken curry she's prepared for lunch each day for the past 31 years - and wrote down her every step.

My Indian Summer

Shefali and I traveled to Bombay/Mumbai from London to see her family. It was my fourth trip to India, and each one is better than the last. One of the highlights is always the food, and this one was no exception.

- This was my first trip to India during mango season. India is home to the Alphonso mango. The Alphonso is smaller and richer than any variety we get in or around the US. The flesh isn't as stringy, either, so the texture is somewhat like a melon. We cut them into boats and scooped out the flesh. We skinned them, diced, them and ate them with vanilla ice cream. We blended them with milk and drank shakes in the morning, and blended them with yoghurt and drank mango lassis in the afternoon. I easily ate my weight in mangoes during my 10-day stay.

London Recap Part 4: Miscellaneous

Shefali and I spent four days vacationing in London on our way to Mumbai. Whenever we travel to a new place, we make it a goal to eat our way from one end of town to the other. This four-part series will highlight our experiences.

Some of our adventures didn't involve a market, restaurant, or pub. Here are a few final thoughts:

- Trafalgar Square was my favorite tourist attraction.
- Bloomsbury was a great part of town to stay in. If we ever go back, I'd likely book another hotel (not the Holiday Inn) near Russell Square.
- We visited a great pub called The Lamb, but there were no tables avaiable, so we went next door for dinner. The pub did, however, leave a lasting memory, because of all the British pubs we visited that had funky, outdated carpet, The Lamb's was definitely the ugliest.
- Jamie Oliver was offering cooking classes while we were visiting. I was all for it, but Shefali vetoed it because it would qualify as "cheating on Bobby Flay." 
- While in Borough Market, I asked a woman buying flounder (better known as sole in Europe) how she cooks it. "[The fishmongers] fillet it for me, then I dust it in flour and fry it in a pan with butter," she said. "There's no need to mess around."
- The cable TV at our Holiday Inn was limited, but it did include two music channels that, amazingly, still show music videos. I started each day with  full session of British pop. Looking back, this wasn't a good use of my time, but I thought this video was pretty awesome:



That's our trip--stay tuned for Bombay highlights. 

London Recap Part 3 - The Pubs

Shefali and I spent four days vacationing in London on our way to Mumbai. Whenever we travel to a new place, we make it a goal to eat our way from one end of town to the other. This four-part series will highlight our experiences.

Visiting the pubs with a pregnant wife is hardly the best way to experience London's beer, but she was a good sport, so we hit several during our stay. Here's my pint-by-pint breakdown:

My first taste of a British bitter (Sussex) came at The Market Porter. I drank it outside the pub on a sunny afternoon near Borough Market in Southwark. Drinking in the street, under a surprisingly hot sun while my wife sipped coffee felt wrong on many levels.

Pint number two (Junction) came at The Center Page near St. Paul's Cathedral. The Pub was located between St. Paul's and the Milennium Bridge, with dark rooms, sticky tables and windows through which you could watch the cold and rain. That alone made the beer more satisfying.

Pint number three (Adnams) came at Chequers Tavern. Chequers is stuck in an alley between the Royal Academy of Arts and St. James' Square. It's been there for hundreds of years and has a unique history as a former gathering place for games of checkers. With just six tables, it appeared to be a popular lunch spot for an older crowd. All around us were couples drinking white wine and talking business. Regardless, the beer was good (I was acquiring a taste for the slightly warmer and flatter bitters) and Shef raved about the apple pie.

Pints four (Fuller's), five and six (HSB) arrived when I finally had someone to drink with. Shefali's cousin, Priya, and her husband Sam hosted us in Fulham the night before we left for Bombay and took us out to The White Horse. It was a classic neighborhood pub and packed on a Tuesday night. The food was somewhat gourmet and served the best fish and chips I ate. It featured haddock instead of cod, and both the fish and chips were fried to perfection. It was served with the obligatory side of mashed peas and an interesting but unnecessary jalepeno tartar sauce.

London Recap Part 2: The Restaurants

Shefali and I spent four days vacationing in London on our way to Mumbai. Whenever we travel to a new place, we make it a goal to eat our way from one end of town to the other. This four-part series will highlight our experiences.

We had barely enough time (and money) to scratch the surface of London's restaurant scene, but we did find some great places. After four days of dining, we reached a few conclusions:

1. Ethnic food is always better in the big city. If you can't travel to the source, it's best to find the biggest city around, where there's a concentration of food lovers that know how to recreate dishes from home. In our few days, we ate drunken noodles, prawn toast, dim sum and curries worth the price of admission. While I'm proud of Durham's food scene, it's rare to blindly visit several restaurants featuring food from different parts of the world and walk out knowing you got what you paid for.

2. Dinner and dessert should be two separate adventures. With only a few days do explore, we ate dinner and dessert at different restaurants. This helped us see more of the city, read more menus, and separate dinner cravings from dessert cravings. For example, after we ate dim sum we said good-bye to our friends, headed north of Soho and found terrific creme brulee and red wine at Chez Gerarde on Charlotte Street.

London Recap Part I - The Markets

Shefali and I spent four days vacationing in London on our way to Mumbai. Whenever we travel to a new place, we make it a goal to eat our way from one end of town to the other. This four-part series will highlight our experiences.

After landing at Heathrow Airport and riding the tube into town, we visited Borough Market in Southwark and quickly learned that London has a vibrant local food scene. The city's diversity brings products from all over the globe, and the food vendors fill three city blocks. Many foods, like fish, eggs, dairy and veggies, are produced locally, but there were dozens of other booths offering goods imported from the regions of the world that know them best.

For example, heavily-accented Europeans handed us samples of blood orange and lemon-infused olive oils from Sicily, white and black truffle oil from Bologna, red-chile hummous (made locally by an Israeli family), and chorizo from Spain, quartered and served with arugula, roasted red peppers and tomatoes in a bun.

In addition to the classics, we stumbled upon less iconic treasures like ostrich burger, Croatian olive oils, zebra meat and vats of chicken and seafood, simmering in Vietnamese, Madras and Thai curries. In short, Borough Market was incredible. If you're ever in London, don't miss it.

Towards the end of the week we visited Shefali's cousin, Priya, in Fulham. Located west of London proper, Fulham has its own farmer's market. Open every morning, Priya explained, its booths cater to the ethnicities--Jewish, Indian and Slovak, for example--that have helped make London famous. Though foods like papad and matzo, produced and shared by families from places other than London, may or may not use ingredients from nearby farms, it definitely challenges the way I think about local food. In a city as historic and diverse as London, perhaps the people decide what's "local" just as much as the geography. If I've learned anything from traveling, it's that people will do anything to recreate the foods they ate at home. As a result, community-supported markets rely on the palates of the residents in addition to the land itself.

Over and Out

Shefali and I are traveling to London tonight, then onto Mumbai for ten days. Stay tuned for updates!

catching up

It's been a ridiculous stretch in NC, but it hasn't stopped us from eating. In fact, my pregnant wife's eating as much as ever, and I'm putting it down right along with her. Amid the baseball season, weddings, college graduations and the conclusion of another school year, there were a few highlights.

- HerbFest. Our friend Todd talked Herb Fest weekend up for two years, and we finally tagged along. The countless varieties of oregano, complementary wagons to fill and Todd, very much a grown man, squealing over cilantro were euphoric.

In addition to our herbs, cooking highlights included:

- grilled flounder with salmoriglio sauce
- ten straight days of grilled pork chops and potatoes (food aversions, anyone?)
- tandoori-style cobia steaks
- marinated spanish mackerel
- pan fried softshell crab
- brunch at watt's grocery
- gorging ourselves at Biryani House
- clams diavolo

Recipes are available - let me know if you want them. There are new adventures on the horizon, so stay tuned!

Mullets in Style

Our spring subscription to walking fish began this week with a bag full of fresh mullets, also known as kingfish or whiting. My fish were small with firm, white flesh, so I wanted to cook them whole. Having never worked with mullet before, I looked for a Sicilian recipe and immediately found Triglie di Scoglio, or "red mullet in onion sauce."

Triglie di Scoglio

- five small Walking Fish mullets, gutted and whole
- flour
- two eggs, beaten
- vegetable oil
- olive oil
- two yellow onions, sliced thin
- 1/2 cup white wine or sherry vinegar
- 1/4 cup sugar

1. Cover the bottom of a pan with vegetable oil and heat until shimmering.
2. Dredge the fish in flour, then then egg mixture, then back through the flour.
3. Fry each side of the fish until golden brown. If your pan is hot, this will take less than five minutes per side. Make sure the fish is cooked through before removing.
4. Once all the fish have been fried, remove the vegetable oil, add the olive oil and heat until barely smoking.
5. Saute the onions over low heat, turning occasionally, until translucent.
6. Add the vinegar and sugar. Stir until the liquid thickens, then add salt and pepper to taste.
7. Serve the fish with the sauce or pour the sauce over the fish. Serve with lemon.

Although I later learned that the red mullet found in the Mediterranean are quite different from the sea mullet caught off the Carolina coast (the two fish aren't even in the same family), it was a quick, easy and flavorful meal. The tangy onion sauce would work well with other fish or chicken. Researchers at bestofsicily.com write that "traditionalists believe this dish is best served slightly chilled or at room temperature." After eating it at room temperature last night and cold this afternoon, I agree that it works both ways.

We ate it with mashed potatoes and stewed collard greens.

Recreating an Irish Feast

I spent my summer in Ireland in 2005, studying creative writing at National University Ireland-Galway. Traveling the country and visiting pubs stretched my student budget to its limit, so I had little money to spend on fine dining. In fact, I ate so cheap that even store-bought jars of pasta sauce were fair game.

Nevertheless, I have nothing but fond memories of Irish food. I ate shepherd's pie in Dublin, a terrific stew in Cork, fish and chips in Galway's city center, and a chocolate caramel biscotti topped with ice cream and a signature sauce (still the best dessert I've ever eaten) on the remote island of Inishbofin. When I did decide to dine out, it was usually for lunch at a pub. One rainy afternoon early in my stay I tried a bowl of seafood chowder, and from that moment forward I was hooked.

Pubs in every coastal town I visited featured their own variation of this hearty soup. It was rich, creamy, chock full of seafood, served with hearty soda bread and great with a pint of stout.

I ate it everywhere, but two particular bowls stand out in my memory. The first found me in Cobh, a tiny coastal town east of Cork famous for being one of the Titanic's final stops. The morning after New Zealand killed the British and Irish Lions in the second match of the rugby team's world tour, my friends and I were out shopping and stepped into a pub for an early lunch. This particular pub had a large display case of exotic desserts near the door, but I was more impressed with the soup's red color and fresh salmon, scallops and clams.

My second came from an ocean side pub in Roundstone. It was a cold, wet afternoon and my classmates and I were returning from our retreat at Inishbofin. We stepped off the ferry and ran for the nearest rooftop and dry seats. The chowder that day included bacon, cod and plenty of parsley, but the bread was even more memorable. Each piece was a dark brown color, dense and a little dry. The slices came to life with a slab of Irish butter (Irish cows are grass-fed).

Upon returning home, I spent months looking for an Irish pub that effectively recreates my Irish experience. To date, nothing compares. I crave the meal most around St. Patrick's day, and because there are only so many pubs one can try, I now take a different approach. Every March 17, I recreate my Irish feast at home.




The Soup

It was difficult to find a recipe at first, as chowder isn't authentic to Ireland and none of the Irish cookbooks I own has a recipe that resembles it. A few hours on the Internet provided some options - first on the blogs of travel writers and amateur cooks, then later on the web pages of the country's most famous chefs like Kevin Dundon, Darina Allen and Donal Skehan.

In 2009, I followed the directions of Judith Kadden. I turned to Armida Amador in 2010. Earlier this month I stumbled upon the cooking blog of Michael O'Meara, head chef at Oscar's Bistro in Galway City. He writes about how chowder recipes vary greatly by nature and experimentation is a must:

As with a great many traditional foods it is likely that chowder takes its name from the iron cooking pot in which it is traditionally cooked a Chaudière. Although the actual name chowder was first used in North America, specifically Canada in the 1730’s.The term Chowder would not be specific to a single soup but rather a number of interpretations of chowder exist ranging from rich creamy recipes through to light broth like soups often thickened with water biscuits, although all interpretations would indicate a hearty and very satisfying soup. The use of salt pork in seafood chowder is essential according to many traditionalists and will add a superb extra layer of flavour as will the use of potato. Clam chowder is possibly the most well known form of the soup and although very simple to make is one of the world’s great soups. Indeed the line between when chowder becomes a stew is often very thin indeed which makes chowder a great choice for a mid day meal on a sunny summers day. Experimentation is the order of the day when it comes to making chowder with the use of different fish and shellfish making the soup both fun to make and better to eat, although the recipe I have included may not be a chowder in the most traditional sense it will yield a hearty soup and will work a treat as a light meal or as a first course to a more substantial dinner.

His comments helped me draw some conclusions about the similarities in all the variations I'd eaten. I've concluded that a good chowder has a few universal ingredients:
- butter
- flour
- milk or cream
- veggies (onions, leeks, potatoes, carrots, celery,etc.)
- water or stock
- shellfish
- fish

It can also include some or all of the following:
- smoked fish
- tomatoes
- bacon
- white wine
- herbs and seasoning

Remembering my best meals, keeping in mind my recent attempts, taking advantage of local ingredients and borrowing much from Michael O'Meara, I created the following recipe for St. Patrick's Day 2011:

Irish Seafood Chowder

1 tbs olive oil
2 onions
2 leeks
1/2 stick butter
1/2 cup flour
1/2 pound potatoes, cubed
6 ounces bacon, cut into 1/4 inch pieces
1/2 cup cream
3 cups fish stock
1-2 pounds mixed fish (I used 1 pound clams from Walking Fish, 1/2 pound cod and 4 ounces smoked salmon)
parsley, to taste

1. Cook the bacon in 1 tbs olive oil.
2. Add the butter
3. When the butter has melted, add the onions and leeks. simmer until soft but not brown.
4. add the flour and stir vigorously for two minutes to make a roux.
5. add the fish stock and bring to a simmer.
6. add the potatoes and simmer for 10 minutes.
7. add and cream and return to a simmer.
8. add the fish and simmer until cooked.
8. add parsley, salt and pepper, to taste, and serve.

The Bread

Finding a bread recipe to complement my chowder was a much simpler task. Bread in Ireland is not a recent trend, and Coleman Andrews scoured the country, speaking to famous and family chefs in search of the best brown bread. He found several worthy of the title, and he included them in The Country Cooking of Ireland. I use Myrtle Allen's, found on page 272:

Brown Soda Bread

Butter for greasing
4 cups wheat flour
1 cup white flour
1/2 cup Irish steel-cut oatmeal or oat bran
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp salt
2 to 4 cups buttermilk

1. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees
2. grease a baking sheet and set aside
3. mix the wheat flour, white flour, oatmeal, baking soda and salt together in a large bowl.
4. Make a well in the middle of the flour mixture and gradually pour in the buttermilk, stirring with a wooden spoon in a spiral motion from the center to the edge of the bowl. The dough should be soft but not too wet, with no raw flour left (this will probably take about 2 1/2 cups of buttermilk, but use more or less if necessary).
5. Turn the dough out onto a floured board. Flour your hands lightly, then shape the dough into a flat round about 3 inches thick. Cut a deep cross in the top of the loaf with a wet or floured knife.
6. Transfer the loaf to a baking sheet and bake for 45 to 60 minutes, or until nicely browned and the bottom of the loaf sounds hollow when tapped. (Alternately, gently push the dough into a nonstick loaf pan and bake until done. The bread should slide out of the pan easily if done.)

The Beer

This is by far the easiest part of the meal to prepare. Pour a pint of Guinnes (or two). Murphy's works as well, especially in Cork.
Bread, chowder and a Guinness. It gets better every year.

Home Food Gets Hip

Some lucky people eat their mother's cooking well into their adult lives. My wife, Shefali, said good-bye to that utopia ten years ago when she packed her bags and headed to college in America. She's lived in the U.S. ever since, but still craves her mother's chicken curry, tikka masala, koftas and biryani. We've found some decent Indian restaurants in Durham and Chapel Hill, but none of them recreate the "home food" that she remembers and craves.

While no one can match her mother's cooking, we got pretty close this weekend when we visited Vimala's Curry Blossom Cafe in Chapel Hill.

The small restaurant features outdoor seating in a courtyard just out of sight from Franklin Street, Chapel Hill's main drag. We followed our noses behind a Malaysian joint, then past a pizza parlor and crepe shoppe. Dodging huge trays of thalis on our way in, we gawked at a simple but exciting menu written on a chalkboard overhead.
Vimala's is a farm-to-fork establishment, so the meats, produce and dairy products come from local farms. Shefali ordered the beef curry, which came with rice, daal, cauliflower, pappad and yoghurt.

I got the Bombay-style fish and chips - a king mackerel steak, lightly seasoned and fried, resting on a bed of rice. The fries were coated in garam masala and featured green chutney as a condiment instead of ketchup. There was also a small seasonal salad.

Because our eyes are notoriously bigger than our stomachs, we couldn't resist trying a side tandoori chicken as well.

Everything was excellent, especially the chicken and fish. Vimala herself circulated the dining area while we ate, carrying patrons' children, getting feedback on the night's special menu items and offering recommendations for customers who had just walked in. She spoke to us for several minutes about Bombay and the inspiration she gets from the street food when she visits. While it wasn't quite home food, Vimala made sure we'd eat it in our Durham home later that weekend, as she packed Shef's leftovers in a to-go box and added extra servings of fresh beef, rice and daal.

Home food is as much a state of mind as it is a meal. In Bombay, we can smell the aromas in the kitchen before, during and after the meal. We're comfortable eating familiar food around family and friends. The atmosphere's casual and conversation easy. Vimala's recreates this state of mind in its own progressive way. We placed our order with her daughter, Manju, and watched people from all walks of life - groups of college students, working professionals, retired couples and everything in between - smile at the children running underneath the tabletops and peek at the food on neighboring tables. The food was simple but thoughtful, and the quality of the ingredients shined.

Every couple of years, we take the 20-hour flight home to Bombay for a meal. When we're not traveling, we'll gladly settle for a 20-minute drive to Vimala's in Chapel Hill.

Walking Fish Delivery 4

The winds calmed down along the coast this week, so I received another flounder this Thursday from Walking Fish. I also picked up a small bag of arugula from the farmer's market Saturday morning. This evening's task was to figure out a way to combine the two. It rained all day in Durham, so I didn't want to stand over a grill. Recipes for flounder are hard to come by in my Italian cookbooks, so I called an old friend who grew up fishing in the ocean. He recommended I fillet it, then season it with bread crumbs and pan fry it.

In order to take his advice, I had to first learn how to fillet a flounder, so I turned to YouTube and viewed two how-to videos - one crude but informative clip and another that was more thorough but less entertaining.





The two narrators give essentially the same directions, so I tried it myself. A few minutes later I proved I'm not quite ready to try it on while bobbing up and down on a boat, fighting the wind and holding the still-flapping fish steady, but I did manage to get rid of the bones and skin and still keep most of the meat.

After sprinkling salt and pepper on each side of the fillets, Shefali dusted them with flour and pan fried them in butter and oregano while I boiled a pound of pasta and tossed it with a simple sauce of garlic, olive oil, crushed red pepper, white wine, lemon juice and the arugula.

In all, the fish turned out great, but pairing it with spaghetti wasn't the best decision. The pasta stretched the arugula pretty effectively, and would work well on its own or with a grilled meat, but if I were to do this one again I'd likely use the greens in a salad.

Comfort Food

The weather has been unseasonably warm here for the past two weeks. Warm temperatures throughout much of the state, however, contributed to strong winds on the coast - so strong that this week's Walking Fish delivery had to be postponed. It was the first time in the community supported fishery's history that the weather did not allow fishermen to gather the week's fresh catch.

We planned to cook the seafood on Friday, so when it did not make it we turned to an old reliable. Originating near my great grandfather's hometown of Lanciano, bucatini (or spaghetti) amatriciana takes everything good about pasta and adds to it extra bacon and cheese. The result is something unhealthy yet empowering. This is one of Shefali's favorites, so I make more often than our doctor would recommend.

Pasta Amatriciana

olive oil
1 pound pasta (usually a long, thin noodle like bucatini or spaghetti)
1 onion
crushed red pepper, to taste
8-12 oz bacon (I usually use an entire packet)
3.5 cups Christopher Sauce
1/2 cup or more of grated pecorino Romano cheese

put a pot of water on to boil, then chop the bacon into 1/2 inch squares. Heat the olive oil, then saute the bacon in a saucepan. When the bacon is crisp, move it with a slotted spoon to a plate lined with paper towel. In the now-empty pan, saute the onion until brown, then add the crushed red pepper. Let the pepper's flavors release for about 30 seconds, then add the Christopher Sauce. Stir the sauce vigorously at first to deglaze the pan, then simmer for 10-15 minutes. When the pasta is ready, return the bacon to the sauce, then add the cheese and pasta. Toss well and serve.

Walking Fish Delivery 3

A day or two before my Walking Fish delivery arrives, I receive an email update that announces the week's fresh catch. That evening, I break out the cookbooks and begin brainstorming the next epic meal.

Last week, I received three fillets of triggerfish, steamer clams and pasta clams. Triggerfish is a flaky white fish with a mild flavor. It has large rib and pin bones, so Shef and I decided it would be best baked.

We laid each fillet on a sheet of aluminum foil, placed a tablespoon of butter and pinches of salt, pepper and parsley on top of each fillet, then wrapped the foil and broiled them for about 20 minutes.

As for the clams, we opted for a pasta with a red sauce, since we ate our last batch of clams in a simple white sauce. Growing up, my dad and brother loved spicy food, but my mom couldn't stand it. She wasn't out of the house during dinnertime very often, but when she was, Dad would make a diavolo sauce. He's also prepared it as part of the feast of the seven fishes.

Having married a woman who loves spicy food, we eat shrimp fra diavolo often. This time, we decided to use clams instead.

Clams fra diavolo

olive oil
6 cloves garlic, diced
3.5 cups Christopher Sauce
1-2 pounds of clams, washed and scrubbed
1/2 cup dry red wine (we use chianti)*
crushed red pepper, to taste ("fra diavolo" means "the devil's brother in Italian, so use lots)
1 tsp dried parsley or 1 tbs fresh, chopped

*Note: during the summer, we sometimes substitute white wine (sauvignon blanc).

Heat a couple tablespoons of olive oil in a large pan. When hot, add the clams. As the clams heat, they will release a liquid. Shake the pan frequently so the shells do not stick. Remove the clams as soon as they open (our steamer clams opened earlier than the pasta clams). After about 15 minutes, remove the clams that did not open (if they are fresh and of good quality, like the ones we receive from Walking Fish, there should not be many that do not open) and set the open clams aside. In the same pan, add more olive oil and saute the diced garlic until fragrant but not brown. Add the crushed red pepper and let the flavors release for about 30 seconds. Add the Christopher Sauce and simmer for 10 minutes. Add the red wine, stir and simmer for an additional 5-10 minutes, until the alcohol has cooked off. Once the flavors of the garlic, red pepper and wine have incorporated into the sauce (taste it), return the clams to the sauce, add the parsley and simmer for another 5-10 minutes.

This sauce works well with linguine or fettuccine, and the clams were a nice change of pace.