Salsas, apparently, are not for the faint of heart—or, for the faint of chopping. One must daringly place their fingers in close contact with knives, their finger nails in contact with fiery ingredients, and their eyes in the midst of tear-producing onions. Sometimes, one must even expose their lungs to stifling odors. To make a salsa one must have courage, one must be nimble, and one must prepare for the possibility of suffocation. And so begins a salsa saga.
Pico de Gallo http://www.bonappetit.com/recipes/2012/06/pico-de-gallo
Light and simple, this salsa may be made in a matter of minutes. For me, the hardest part consisted of chopping the onion, tomato, cilantro, and jalapeño (be sure to wear gloves while chopping this spicy ingredient!) I found that waiting for an hour or more allowed the ingredients to marinate wonderfully together. Pico de Gallo enhances a taco or merely a tortilla chip wonderfully!
Mango Salsa http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/ellie-krieger/mango-salsa-recipe/index.html
Mango Salsa is my favorite summer salsa. The lush mango serves as the perfect contrast to the crunch of the ripe cucumber and onion. Hidden beneath these juxtaposing textures lies a single tablespoon of chopped jalapeño, a tablespoon so small it merely suggests innocence in flavor. Yet, the opposite holds true. The tablespoon bursts with flavor and perfectly secretes its juices throughout the salsa, providing the perfect kick to an otherwise mild dish. Try this salsa with panko-encrusted chicken tacos!
Yucatan-Style Habanero Salsa http://www.bonappetit.com/recipes/2012/06/yucatan-style-habanero-salsa
There are some recipes that you wish you had looked at the comment section before beginning. If I had only read cdmclean’s comment “This is not a recipe for humans…This recipe is, I kid you not, a science experiment…” (Bon Appetit online), perhaps I would have steered clear of the, so-called, science experiment. Unfortunately, however, I did not. And, so, I too embarked on the most physically exhausting and painful salsa experience of my lifetime.
The recipe called to char 25 habanero chiles in the broiler while simultaneously toasting the garlic in a dry-cast iron skillet until charred. As the chiles and garlic charred I suddenly felt my eyes begin to water. The fumes engulfed my lungs and I began coughing hysterically. The whole house filled with smoke until the blare of the fire alarm sounded. My parents ran down the stairs thinking I had started a fire. Through rattled breaths, I cried, “Everything is burning! And it’s supposed to!” My mom quickly ushered me outside and had me down a glass of water to open my lungs. If you try this recipe, I strongly suggest charring the chiles outside.
After cooling both the chiles and garlic, I commenced to unravel their crackling skins. The garlic skins glided off the cloves; however, the chiles presented a different story. Wearing gloves, I tried to elegantly peel away the skins. Instead, I ended up peeling away the entire chile. I could not find the inside in half of them. Seeds spewed out of the chiles and into the processor. I added the other ingredients into the processor and turned it on. Needless to say, after pulsating together the garlic, lime juice, salt, and measly dissected chiles, my salsa failed to form a coarse puree. Instead, it resembled a soup. And, it was incredibly HOT. The recipe did warn that the salsa was “searingly hot,” but, as a lover of spice, I never expected to drink an entire glass of water after placing a dollop of the salsa (or, soup, as it turned out in my case) onto a tortilla chip. Although the salsa did not turn out as expected, I found it quite fun to make, although, at times, quite scary. A tiny portion tasted delicious on the tacos, but I could not stomach more than a few drops at a time. But, if you like adventure, spice, and daring—this could be the perfect recipe for you!
Friday, September 14, 2012
A Salsa Saga
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
It's Like Something Out of a Dashiell Hammet Novel
Like a Hammet novel in so far as the answer can only be found once everyone has been gathered at a dinner party. Answer? I haven't asked a question yet. That's the easy part, Can I but together a dinner for 8, have it be ready on time, and make it great tasting?
Last week I decided that I wanted to have some friends over for dinner, and at the same time challenge their palates and my culinary skills. I really like oxtails when I have tried it and I've always wanted to take a crack at making it myself. I found a pretty good recipe and I dove in, planning out the timeline to have a dinner for eight ready by 8 pm Friday night. I made the mistake of telling one person what I was making and she got a little scared, so I kept the menu to myself. So I came up with a game plan: make sure no one could resist, just based on the main ingredient. Good game plan, no?
The Shopping List
8 lbs oxtails - Reading Terminal Market
Thyme
Rosemary
Tarragon
4 lbs potatoes
Milk
2 bottles of red wine- Liquor Store
Large roasting pans
Beef broth
Balsamic vinegar
Primary shopping on Thursday night, and minor prep by premaking the mashed potatoes. Oxtails and wine could not be bought at the local Fresh Grocer and would be bought on Friday.
Thursday
7:30 pm
Food Shopping
8:00 pm (24 hours till game time)
Peel, slice, and cook potatoes for mashed potatoes
Everything goes as planned, I'm feeling pretty good about getting dinner for 8 together.
Friday
10:00 am
Go to class then run downtown to Reading Terminal Market to pick up 8 lbs of oxtails and the liquor store to buy 2 bottles of red wine (a volunteer offered to bring wine to drink).
Reading Terminal Market is surprisingly busy at 2 on a Friday afternoon and I had to wait in a fairly long line to pick up my oxtails. But hey! did you know there is a wine purveyor in Reading Terminal Market? I get to cross Liquor Store off my shopping list. Sweet! Because by then I was running out of time. The oxtails needed about 3.5 hours total cooking time. I need to get the oxtails in the oven by 4:30, so I have have them braising by 5:15, and maybe have some time to finish the sauce before everyone is too hungry.
I don't quite manage this. Following the recipe I set in cutting off the fat from the individual joints of meat. Discarding all the excess fat from the oxtails takes longer than I anticipated. It's a slightly tough cut of meat, and I ended up cutting some corners, as it were, and leaving more of the fat on than I should have, for flavor I told myself.
They finally make it in the oven for the initial cooking time at 4:45. I took a break, opened up the bottles of wine and didn't drink too much of it.
5:25 pm
Back in action pouring in the braising liquid and herbs, back in the oven at 5:30, only running 15 minutes late.
6:00 pm
I take the mashed potatoes out of the refrigerator to come to room temperature before reheating them
7:30 pm
I start getting anxious that the oxtails are not quite fall-off-the-bone-tender yet. I need at least 20 minutes to reduce the cooking liquid to make the sauce. I put the mashed potatoes on the stove and slowly reheat them, at the same time, trying to move my desk into the kitchen to serve as a table extension because my tiny dining table will not fit 8 around. While my back is turned the potatoes start to brown at little - my first real misstep.
7:50 pm
I cut my losses and take the oxtails out of the oven and start reducing the sauce. Sadly my sauce never makes it on the table; it takes much too long to reduce sufficiently and everyone votes to start eating before I can finish it. The oxtails were still delicious, if a little tough to eat, with some fat still encasing them. My second real misstep, even though technically I left the fat on before the first misstep, this is where the less-than-desirable result shows up.
Everyone resorts to using their hands to eat the oxtails and - horror of horrors - someone asked for the salt and pepper for the mashed potatoes.
The answer to the question raised initially: I can, for the most part, put together dinner for 8 people. Things to work on for next time include doing all of my prep the night before, considering how difficult it might be to eat what I have on the menu, and budgeting more time than I think I need.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Friday, January 23, 2009
Friday Blog Lovin' - Cake Wrecks
Blog: Cake Wrecks
The tagline of this award-winning blog is "When professional cakes go horribly, hilariously wrong." If baking a doll into a cake is wrong, I don't want to be right.
Monday, September 8, 2008
Toxic Typo
As reported by the Freakonomics blog, a recipe typo in a Swedish food magazine led to four cases of nutmeg overdose. What exactly was the typo? 20 whole nutmeg instead of two pinches. While nutmeg poisoning may not sound bad-ass, it still lead to hospitalization. And someone getting fired.
TweetMonday, February 25, 2008
A Fairy Tale, of Sorts
Once upon a Saturday night, in wonderful land called
After successfully making our purchase, we journeyed back to our tower. The first task in creating the crème was to dry the sugar. A slight misreading of the directions led to disaster. Minutes after we put sugar in the oven, we noticed smoke seeping out. Against our better judgment, we opened the door only to find a menacing cavern of flames. To vanquish the fiery beast, I shot it with my fire extinguisher. The foam suffocated it, leaving a billowing mound of blackened sugar. We were out of immediate danger, but in its dying breath, the beast enacted revenge and filled the room with smoke.
Our omnipotent fire alarm began to shriek, and we knew that unless we acted quickly, the whole building would flood, drowning all. We opened windows and grabbed whatever we could to fan the smoke. The longer the alarm screeched, the more we feared our imminent doom. With our eyes burning from the fiend’s smoky remnants, and our arms exhausted from trying to appease our alarm, we nearly accepted our fate. But then, a third friend came to save us. She had been locked away in her room but sensed that we needed her help. With another subject working to soothe him, the alarm quieted.
Cold, tired, and smelling of smoke, we were grateful for our survival, but still accepted our overall defeat. There would be no Crème Brulée. Whatever our downfall, be it hubris, or an unpredictable oven— it just was not meant to be.
MTP
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Food Haiku #3
"may whistle in microwave"
not so fresh, fro gro
*image from http://progressiverecipes.com/_images/_products/MicroBaker.gif
