Thursday, March 31, 2011

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.

Sunday, March 13, 2011

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.

Sunday, March 6, 2011

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.