Copious Culinary Carnival—Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving feast + 2006 Davis Family Vineyards Pinot Noir: 4/5

My friend Lisa’s roommates Therese and Agnus are known for there Thanksgiving spread, cooking a turkey, ham and rolls. Each guest attending is asked to bring an appetizer or a side dish to accompany the meal, and this year, as Michael and I were invited, we were were given the task of green bean casserole.

Now I had never made green bean casserole before, but I knew the basic recipe—green beans, cream of mushroom soup, and french fried onion strings. Jumping online, I found some recipes that were simply those ingredients, but that wasn’t anything special. Then, like a stick of butter on a piece of bread, I found it.

Paula Deen’s Green Bean Casserole. With five stars and over 200 reviews, I knew it was going to be a hit. I scrolled down, only to see the first ingredient, butter. Even though the butter was only used to cook the onions in, which isn’t all that bad, it wouldn’t be a Paula Deen recipe without some butter.

What I liked about this recipe, as in some others, is Paula called for fresh green beans, sliced by hand. Although it took a while to slice all of those green beans, the added freshness trumped recipes that use frozen, ten fold.

Since the oven was most likely going to be in use at Lisa’s house, I ingeniously modified the recipe so it would be transportable and stay warm. When it came time to mix the beans with the mushrooms, onion, and cream of mushroom soup, I just popped it in my crock pot’s removable porcelain basin, and put that in the oven, instead of a casserole dish. After the 20 minutes in the oven at 350, I just put the basin in the heating element and topped it with cheese. When we got to Lisa’s all I had to do was put the casserole on warm, and it would be ready whenever dinner was.

The spread at Lisa’s was breathtaking. For appetizers, a cheese and bacon ball, flat bread onion pizza, bacon covered water chestnuts, stuffed mini sweet peppers, fried rice balls, stuffed mushrooms, and artichoke dip, lined the wooden buffet flanking the beautiful white linen covered table, set for 20. Through the living room, adjacent to the dining area, a wooden bar held over 20 bottles of just red wine, while a basket on the floor filled with ice held 10 more white. And let me just tell you, when Michael and I were leaving, the collection had been reduced to a number that could be counted on both hands.

When dinner was getting ready to be served I perused the bottles to see what varietals were in the collection. For white there was a bottle of Proscecco and Sauvignon Blanc already open, and I thought both would have accompanied the appetizers better than the main feast. For reds, there was a bottle of Zinfandel and two bottles of Pinot Noir.

Now for poultry, I would usually think white, but with a meal like Thanksgiving, there are obviously going to be some heavier flavors—stuffing, green bean casserole, sweet potatoes, gravy. All of which call for something with a bit more body than your usual chardonnay. But for reds, you have to be careful as well, a Cabernet Sauvignon or Merlot might over power the delicate flavors of the turkey, leaving you only tasting wine. But a Pinot Noir, usually with a younger fruitier flavor, would be an excellent pair.

Or so I thought.

One of the two Pinot Noirs available was a 2006 Davis Family Vineyards Pinot Noir, which upon researching, I found was a $40 bottle of wine. I would never buy a $40 bottle of wine to pair with Thanksgiving. For me, a $40 bottle of wine should be drank with a meal made specifically for the wine, but that is just me. Anyways, recently on www.winesoaked.com, Sara Kay tasted a range of Malbecs from $8-$24 and explained the differences between the price points. She pointed out that a $24 dollar red might be older, aged in actual oak barrels instead of with oak chips, might contain sediment, and would have stronger flavors.

Bringing the Davis Family Pinot to my nose I was over taken with the strong smell of dill. I’m talking, might as well have plucked a fresh sprig and ground it between my fingers in front of my nose, scent of dill. Never have I smelled such a strong, distinct, flavor from a wine. While most Pinot Noirs have an alcohol content of 13%-13.5%, this was very full bodied at 14.1% alcohol per volume. Tasting, there was a strong earthiness, but a clean finish. I was surprised that the tannins weren’t over powering, and the body, while feeling heavier on the palate than other Pinots I have tried, was still lighter than most merlots or cabernets. At the end of my first glass there were remnants of oak barrel, just as Sara had described.

The main spread, followed by 3 different types of pies, included peas, Puerto Rican rice, rolls, a tofurkey, brussels sprouts, ham, corn bread pudding, candied yams, stuffing, my green bean casserole, and of course and entire 20 pound turkey. While the wine was a bit too upfront to pair with the turkey, the earthy flavors were so interesting I didn’t really mind.

Michael’s favorite dish of the evening was the Puerto Rican rice, with bits of olive and mushroom, in a spicy tomato sauce, flavorful enough to stand up to the Pinot. My favorite had to have been the corn bread pudding. With a consistency of super moist corn bread with whole kernels of corn baked in, the flavor was rich and buttery. After a mouth full of the pudding a good swing of wine would cut through the butter left on my palate, leaving me ready for more.

As 9:00 rolled around, Michael and I decided to head out, leaving a warm fire place crackling behind us and laughter rolling up the stairs. I can honestly say I have never tried so many Thanksgiving dishes at one time. With good friends, family, and great food, I am thankful for another perfect pair. Happy Thanksgiving.

Going Greek

A Greek Feast with 2006 Raven’s Wood Cabernet Sauvignon: 5/5

With The Cheesecake Factory final exam coming up at the end of this week, I thought it wise of me to try and get together with one of my training buddies to do some studying. So, as last week came to a close, I asked Rachel, a transplant from northern California, if she would be interested in coming over for dinner and study time. With out hesitation she agreed, and the date was set for Sunday night.

With some opened ended questioning I found out that Rachel’s favorite food was Spanakopita, a Greek pastry stuffed with spinach and feta cheese. So as the hours passed yesterday morning, I began to think of a Greek inspired menu that would include these spinach puffs.

I don’t know what happened, one dish snowballed into another, and another, until I had dreamt up quite an elaborate feast. Since Rachel is also a vegetarian, I wanted to make sure that I included enough sustenance so that the meal did not turn out to be a collection of sides. But after the last vegetarian meal (see Top Chef of Tomorrow), Michael mentioned that, although delicious, veggie meals did not fill the meat void. So, of course, I wanted to include some meat as well.

I started with the Spanakopita, jumped on the computer and found a Rachel Ray recipe, http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/rachael-ray/spanikopita-recipe/index.html Although the filling sounded delicious, the way she described folding each puff was not traditional. So I found another recipe that included the traditional triangular fold, http://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/Spanakopita-107344, completing the recipe.

For Rachel, I thought that pan fried eggplant sounded Mediterranean, and recently while watching The Food Network, I have been seeing tons of Panko (Japanese bread crumbs). So I thought this would be an excellent excuse to combine the two.

Unable to find a recipe, I made my own. I started by slicing the eggplant into 1/4’’ - 1/2’’ thick slices. Then I placed the sliced eggplant on a cookie sheet, sprinkled with coarse ground salt and left to rest for a 1/2 hour. While the slices were resting, I prepared three bowls, one with 1/4 cup of flour, the second with 2 whisked eggs, and a third with 1/2 cup of Panko. After the eggplant had finished resting, I removed the excess salt and water and dipped the slices once into each bowl, coating both sides. When all of the pieces were coated I prepared a large skillet with 1/4 cup of oil over medium heat. After oil was hot, I placed the eggplant into skillet and browned both sides, until crispy.

To top the eggplant I wanted a greek inspired sauce, and what is more greek than Tzatziki. With 4 stars and 30 reviews, I turned to Ina Garten’s recipe, http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/ina-garten/tzatziki-recipe/index.html. The most common criticism in the reviews pertained to the sauce being to salty. I also didn’t think I would need 2 1/2 cups of Tzatziki, so I halved the recipe, and salt and peppered to taste.

For meat, I wanted something simple, but Greek inspired, so I thought of kabobs. To be adventurous, I just winged a recipe. I started by soaking 7 skewers in water for about 30 minutes. While the skewers were soaking I defrosted 2 chicken breasts just long enough to become pliable, but not completely thawed. I recommend doing this because semi-frozen chicken is easier to chop. I then sliced the chicken breast into 28 equal pieces and put 4 slices on a skewer. After arranging the skewers on a cookie sheet, I drizzled with olive oil, salt, pepper, 2 teaspoons of fresh chopped dill, and popped them into a 350 degree oven for 30-40 minutes or until cooked through.

To finish I wanted to make a pasta side, with some Mediterranean vegetables. So I started by roasting some tomatoes. Michael Chiarello, another Food Network Chef, has a great recipe for roasted tomatoes, http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/michael-chiarello/roasted-tomatoes-recipe/index.html, but I only used 4 roma tomatoes, and quartered each, instead of halved, and added some balsamic vinegar and herbs in addition to the other ingredients.

After the tomatoes I sauteed some chopped baby portabella mushrooms, with the leftover Spanakopita filling, and then added some jarred artichoke hearts, with a splash of olive oil. After boiling a full package of spaghetti I tossed in the tomatoes, mushrooms, and artichoke hearts, and sprinkled about 3oz of feta cheese on top. Finally the Greek feast was complete.

Not specifying a varitel, I asked Rachel to bring a bottle of wine. She brought over a 2006 Raven’s Wood Cabernet Sauvignon. While I was a little apprehensive that a Cabernet might over power the lighter flavors of the dish, I was pleasantly surprised to see an alcohol content of 13.5%, giving this wine a lighter body compared to other Cabernets. With a description of earthy, rich, and dark, the flavors would be left to the drinker. My nose detected notes of plum and black cherry, with a warming toasted oak.

Finally, as we all sat to enjoy our meal, I ranged over the feast that was just a dream hours ago. The creamy cucumber flavor from the Tzatziki cooled the palate as the eggplant provided added flavor and a rough, cruchy texture. The Spanikopita turned out delicate, rich and smooth with little pops of feta and dill. The chicken kabobs, herby and a bit tough, rounded out the meal with a backbone of protein, while the pasta provided pockets of intense roasted tomato, earthy portabella, and rich artichoke flavors.

While part of me thinks a bright white wine, like a Sauvignon Blanc or Gewürztraminer, would have enhanced the meal by cleansing the palate, another part of me thinks that red was the right choice. With rich flavors the Cabernet provided a cohesiveness of the meal, enhancing the herbyness of the chicken, and taming the garlic in the Tzatziki. In another way the wine was able to provide a heaviness that gave a feeling of a complete meal, instead of just a collection of dishes. One could argue either way.

As we digested and talked of television and past restaurant experiences, the ominous cloud of studying moved over the table. Michael excused himself to the bedroom, so he wouldn’t bother us, and Rachel and I, ranged over table numbers, full menu names, and server time charts. When the evening came to a close the verdict was clear, this was another perfect pair.

Pear and Pinot (Grigio That Is)

Ginger Pear Chicken and 2008 3 Blind Moose Pinot Grigio: 5/5

Last night, overlooking a relaxed lake Michigan bathed in burnt yellows and oranges of the setting sun, I got a craving for something seasonal. So, perched on my orange couch, I thought of the flavors of the season I hadn’t had this year. I’ve tasted the crisp crunch of a fresh picked apple, the smooth creaminess of pumpkin soup, and turkey, stuffing, and cranberries are all just around the corner, what else was there?

Pears, juicy and ripe with pulp that seems to melt like butter in your mouth. So since I gorged myself trying nearly half of The Cheesecake Factory menu this past week, I wanted to make something that was lighter, yet seasonal. So I found this recipe for ginger pear chicken. http://busycooks.about.com/od/chickenbreastrecipes/r/gingerpearchick.htm

Although there were 4 1/2 stars, this recipe was only reviewed by two people, but I was willing to take a chance and doctor things accordingly. As I pondered over the recipe in my head, I decided fennel, with its slight anise flavor, and dried cranberries, with tartness and sweetness, would provide more complexity to the dish. A prior reviewer recommended topping the dish with a drizzling of balsamic vinegar, which I would suggest as well. The additional acidity, adds a mouth watering effect, and plays well with the the tart and sweet flavors already in the dish.

I’d like to take a minute and talk about ginger. Ginger, like potatoes, carrots, beets, and parsnips, is a root, and an ugly one at that. Where as carrots and potatoes tend to be cone shaped and oblong ovals, ginger is tuber, which basically means there is no rhyme or reason for the shape of this veggie. The first time I used ginger, I was intimidated to say the least. Here I am, holding this amorphous beige mass, that I have only ever seen picked and served with wasabi, and I am supposed to do what with it? Really the process is quite simple and just takes a peel and a chop, but for those less adventurous, it’s understandable that trying new things, especially food, is nerve racking. So my advice with any new food is to slice a little bit, smell it, taste it, and then cook it. Be careful, as some thing, like ginger, are very potent.

Since this meal was going to be lighter in nature I decided that a Pinot Grigio would be a great candidate to pair with the meal. Where Chardonnay tends to have a heavier body and a rich buttery flavor that pairs well with alfredo and light pastas, Pinot Grigio is silkier and a bit more delicate, lending itself nicely to the range of flavors in the dish at hand. As I scouted about the store, I wanted to find a bottle with notes of pear and citrus. Lo-and-behold, a bottle of 2008 3 Blind Moose had just that, and it was only $9.

To accompany the Chicken I prepared some rice with chopped green onion and seasoning. When everything hit the plate, the contrasting burgundy cranberries popped against the slivers of green onion. Without the two, the dish would have been beige and boring.

Moist and flavorful, the chicken breast, dredged in flour and browned before cooked throughout, had no thought of being dry, while the balsamic vinegar resonated on the palate giving off that mouth watering effect I was hoping for. Moist bits of onion and fennel provided a base for the sweet pears and cranberries, while the rice soaked in the excess juice from the chicken and pears.

With aromatics of sun ripened citrus, pear, and a hint of melon, the wine filled my nostrils with a scene of a perfect fall day, brisk enough for a coat, but just right with a cup of warm apple cider, or hot chocolate. Resting on my tongue, the wine’s light weight gave way to a stronger acidity and a lingering finish.

Together the meal was a perfect example of the power of pairing. Alone the Pinot Grigio was to acidic, making my lips pucker, and palate tense as it moved down my throat, but together, the wine’s acidity was cut down by the sweetness of pear and cranberry, only leaving the added flavors of the wine, which accompanied the dish perfectly. Alone the herby chicken and rice would have gotten monotonous by the end of the meal, but together the wine was able to bring out the subtleties of the dishe’s fennel, onion, and ginger flavors.

Usually it is the food that induces a coma after the meal, but this time it was the wine. Stimulated by good conversation, Michael and I had no problem finishing the bottle with the meal. With the boom of fireworks outside, as the lighting parade on Michigan Avenue came to a close, the only fireworks we were paying attention to were the ones inside our mouths from another perfect pair.

Simply Stupendous Spud Soup

Creamy Potato Soup with 2008 Pine Ridge Chenin Blanc - Viognier Blend: 5/5

Certain weather calls for certain food. A brisk morning, with the sun just high enough to send slivers of light dancing about your bedroom, freshly fried bacon with a bright aromatic bubbly. A scorching hot July day, watermelon. A rainy late fall afternoon where the sun sets before five, potato soup.

With rain in the forecast and a few leaves left grasping their branches, Michael and I thought potato soup would be an excellent recipe to delve into. Now that I have started working, Michael mentioned to me that he had no problem helping out with dinners. So I left him to make this slow cooker potato soup. http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/Slow-Cooker-Creamy-Potato-Soup/Detail.aspx With 4.5 stars,167 reviews, and close to 9,000 ratings, this recipe was bound to be delicious.

My mom has a potato soup, that she makes either over the stove or in the crock pot, and it is good. Not great, just good. Now I have never made potato soup from scratch, but for some reason my mother’s gets a grainy consistency. Michael said that it was either because she used the wrong potatoes, or cooked the potatoes to long, but I was thinking that it might also be because she doesn’t use heavy cream or half and half. Although the soup does turn out thick, it’s not creamy, so I was hoping this soup was going to turn out smooth, rich, and delicious.

When the elevator doors opened yesterday at around 2:00, I was greeted with a flavor crescendo of onion, potatoes, and bacon, which only got stronger the closer I got to our apartment. Turning the handle and swinging the door open, I closed my eyes and took a long sniff. The rain outside, my tired body, and the day’s events seemed to leak out of me, only leaving the sweet smell of soup. The Crock Pot lid drummed lightly on the porcelain basin, each movement leaking more aroma into the room.

Placing the groceries on the table, I unwrapped the bottle of 2008 Pine Ridge Chenin Blanc - Viognier blend I had purchased for 11 dollars at Dominick’s. With a description of bright pear, grapefruit, and tropical flavors, I thought the profile would match the light creaminess of the soup.

Michael decided to use cornstarch instead of flour for a thickening agent, when it came time to finish prepping the soup. This, he claimed, would help for the digestion of the soup, although I think when you have that much starch, a little flour is not going to have that much of an effect.

Finally after waiting until 6:00, it was time to eat. Michael sliced the green onion, and I took out the cheddar jalapeno bread I had picked up from the store. I could feel my the drips of saliva beginning to form in my mouth. I opened the bottle of wine as Michael topped the bowls with bacon, green onions, and sharp cheddar cheese. The bright colors against the creamy pale white soup reminded me of why fall isn’t that bad of a season after all.

The aromatics of the wine were loud and upfront. While Michael claimed to smell apricot, I was overtaken by grapefruit, with a lingering pear post aroma. I gave the wine a swirl noticing it’s light color, slight oakiness, and a light body. As the wine made contact with my tongue, I was over taken with a puckering sensation, that gave way to a medium sweetness. The finish was clean and smooth.

The soup sent tendrils of steam into the air, and with each glance, I noticed the shredded cheese start to take on an oozy consistency, just begging to be spooned into my mouth. I tried to get a perfect bite, a bit of bacon, a crisp green onion, a chunk of potato, and a shred of cheese. After blowing a bit, the soup was ready for take off. I closed my eyes and tried not to anticipate the flavors, instead just let them happen. Sending me to cloud nine, my body tensed, the smooth rich texture blanketed my palate, as the texture dissipated, bits of bacon seemed to rise, giving way to green onion, and a intense cheddar flavor all wrapped in a potato package.

Just when I thought it could not get any better, I took another sip of wine. Crisp fruity flavors seemed to bring out the brightness of the green onion, tamed the sharpness of the cheddar, and ran off with the potatoes to Vegas for a quick marriage before realizing that they were actually in love and made for each other. Each new bite layered upon the last, making for an intensifying dining experience that was only ended when I couldn’t take another bite.

Michael, usually a humble cook, was raving like he had just sculpted the next David. As well he should have. Defeated like the Nazis after WWII, we both collapsed onto the couch, struggling to stay awake for the latest episode of Glee. No longer did the rain matter, or the cold wind bother us, we were both warm and full inside. I don’t know about you, but I would definitely consider that another perfect pair.

Melting for The Melting Pot

4 Course Fondue with White Wine Wine Flight: 5/5

Serving means an abundance of change. So Michael and I came up with an idea that ensures us some fun. We collect our loose change and set it aside. When what ever is holding the change is full we cash it in and spend that money on something fun.

Since Michael was just signed on to the Chicago History Museum for another project, and I got a job at The Cheesecake Factory, I thought, “What a great excuse to celebrate!” So we decided to take a chance on The Melting Pot for some fabulous fondue.

This was Michael and I’s first time to the melting pot, and I have to be honest, it was a little overwhelming. Walking into a dimly lit basement, taken down a rich buttery colored hall, into the dining room of dark wood, dim lights and steaming pots, was like venturing into a V.I.P club, making me feel like an outsider. Confusion must have been plastered on our faces, but our well rehearsed server, Will, was able to break down the experience for us. There was just so much to take in: cheese course, salad course, meat course, cooking style, dessert, drinks. After a day of work, my head was ready to explode. But neither Michael nor myself were feeling very picky, so we opted for the Alpine Big Night Out, leaving us with only two choices—meat and cooking style. Then we were off.

For those of you who have never fondued before, the experience, lasting about 2.5 - 3 hours, originated in the Alps, and is all about dipping. A variety of courses are available, but the suggested progression of the meal is cheese, salad, entree, dessert. The Melting Pot, though, has perfected the process: color coating skewers, bringing an arrangement of dip-able goodies, and catering to a variety of palates. The great thing about the selection Michael and I made was the fact that their was a wine flight designed to accompany each course, 3 white wines for $10 bucks, each pairing with the flavors of the meal.

Our first course was a Alp and Dell Cheese Fondue, a combination of riesling, garlic, mustard, nutmeg, Gruyere, Raclette, and Fontina cheese, combined table side, and warmed to perfection. To accompany, a variety of breads, apple slices, dill gherkins, cauliflower, and summer sausage, each sliced to bite size pieces. I don’t know about you, but I would hate to be the cook who has to slice and dice everything. The warm cheese offered a bold mustard wine flavor, with a lingering garlic after taste. Paired with the summer sausage the effect was smoky and savory.

To pair with the cheese, a, 2008 Schmitt Söne Spätlese Riesling, one of my all time favorite wines. For those who do not know, a Spätlese riesling is produced by waiting until after the first frost to harvest the grapes, this makes the wine even sweeter than normal riesling. When paired with the cheese, my mouth was over taken with a dichotomy of favor, sweet yet smoky, bitter yet fruity, and smooth yet crunchy.

The second course was salad, a bed of mescaline greens, topped with oven roasted tomatoes, Gruyere, Raclette, and Fontina Cheeses, hard boiled eggs, honey roasted almonds, all topped with a shallot vinaigrette. Although a modest portion, the flavor was huge. I am not a huge tomato fan, but the oven roasted almonds that topped the salad were sweet and juicy, like a roasted red pepper.

The wine that was chosen to pair with the salad was a 12th edition Sokol Blosser, white blend, called Evolution. With the sweetness in the salad from the tomatoes and shallot vinaigrette I was hoping for a wine with a bit more dryness or oakiness, but instead the pair was sweet with sweet, leaving my palate craving more variety.

Then it came time for the entree, and variety is an understatement. A new pot was brought to the table filled with chicken stock and oil. Will came by to turn our stock into Coq Au Vin by adding mushrooms, herbs, garlic, red wine. A plate of raw meats, vegetables, and dipping sauces followed, and just when I thought I was getting the hang of fonduing, everything was taken to a new level. We were given two additional skewers, instructed on how long to cook the meat, and told how to make soft potatoes. Instead of dipping we were soaking, and the sauces, there were six different sauces—2 for beef, 2 for chicken, 1 for shrimp, and 1 for vegetables! Luckily for me, I am not afraid to try anything, so while the first batch of chicken, filet, N.Y strip, shrimp, sausage, ravioli, broccoli, mushrooms, and potatoes, were bathing, I sampled the sauces.

To pair with the entree, the flight offered a 2007 J.L. Wolf, Gewürztraminer, called Villa Wolf. With a subtle dryness, and strong lychee notes, the wine worked well with the veggies, chicken and shrimp, but left me craving a richer, dryer, chardonnay, or fuller bodied pinot noir to accompany the red meat and ravioli. Although, having an overall refreshing quality, the wine worked well by cleansing the palate between bites. Little bite sized flavor explosions ice skated around our tongues before plunging into our stomachs. We were in culinary heaven.

Then, when we thought we were going to bust at the seams, dessert came. White Chocolate Apple Cobbler Fondue, served with Cheesecake, rice crispy treats, strawberries, bananas, and graham cracker and oreo covered marshmallows. Served with a complementary flute of bubbly, courtesy of Will. Rich buttery white chocolate, with bits of apple, and streusel crumble, melted its way around little bits of crunchy rice crispy treats and smooth cheesecake. Before we knew it the bowl was empty, our glasses,empty, and I looked across the table at my expressionless boyfriend, too full to smile.

As we rolled ourselves out of the restaurant we decided that walking home was probably a good idea, after we had suffered up the stairs. The best part of the evening, the 20% industry discount we received, making our entire dining experience, under $85. That’s what I call a perfect pair.

Catfish and Cava: a reminiscent recipe

Crispy Catfish and Black Eyed Peas, Bacon and Caramelized Onion Relish with fried Collard Greens and Freixenet Cordon Negro Cava: 5/5

For a week out of every summer, when I was younger, my parents would ship my brother and I out to my grandpa’s. We wouldn’t stay at my grandpa’s house, but instead, down by the Rock River where he parked a camper and pontoon for the summer months.

The highlight of the week would come on Saturday, when my parents would return, for one last meal before we would return to civilization. Like collected trophies, my brother and I would show off the catfish we had captured during our stay, swimming in the pontoon’s live well. Grandpa would grab his gutting knife, collect the fish, and one by one, prepare them for dinner. A large vat of oil would be brought up to temperature and the skinned, gutted, and filleted fish would be dredged in flour and spices and thrown into the grease bath. Everyone would feast like kings, except my mother and I who did not really care for the flavor of Rock River catfish.

I hadn’t had fried catfish for probably a good 10 years, always being reminded of the flavor of dirty river water when presented with the option. But that all changed last night. For the past couple of months Michael has been trying to get me to let him make fried fish. Just a reminder, Michael and I live in a one bedroom, 700 square foot apartment, with windows that only prop open a few inches. So frying fish in the house would permeate every crevasse of our small living space. But craving some southern style food, I finally caved in last night.

I found this recipe online from Emeril. Now I was shocked too. What is a big Italian guy, known for his italian cooking, doing cooking southern food? But looking over the recipe, it was everything Michael wanted: fried catfish, black eyed peas, and collard greens. http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/emeril-lagasse/crispy-catfish-black-eyed-peas-bacon-caramelized-onion-relish-fried-collard-greens-recipe/index.html

To round out the meal we also decided to make some corn bread, but not just any corn bread, Paula Deen’s Layered Mexican Corn Bread, with jalapenos, onion, cheese, and creamed corn. http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/paula-deen/layered-mexican-cornbread-recipe/index.html

With a little bit of Emeril and a helping of Paula, I set out for my first adventure into frying. Immediately our apartment was filled with the smoky smell of fried bacon, followed by sweet caramelizing onions, and then the catfish. Oh, the catfish, seasoned with Creole spices, and then submerged into a hot tub of oil, sending sizzles and pops of grease into the air. When the corn bread came out of the oven, another layer of sweet onion and melted cheese was added to the nostril party.

Finally came the greens, neither Michael or myself, had ever heard of deep frying collard greens. The traditional preparation is to sautee them with some pork fat and onions, but I was dead set on following the recipe, so I grabbed a handful and moved towards the oil. Have you ever put cold water into hot oil? Well it makes a very loud popping noise, the same happens with the greens. Luckily I had tested a single green earlier, to see if my oil was hot, and I was aware of what was going to happen. So when it came time to fry the greens, I grabbed my splatter screen in one hand, and my fist full of greens in the other, and in one fluid motion, dropped the greens and covered with the screen.

When it came time for plating in tasting, the smell in the kitchen was almost too delicious to bare. I grabbed my fish from the paper towels, scooped some black eyed peas, grabbed my crisp bacon from the microwave, and sprinkled the fried greens onto the plate.

According to Marnie Old, from He Said Beer She Said Wine, fried food goes well with some bubbly. Just like beer, bubbly works to keep the palate clean, and brings out the flavor in heavy and salty foods. I chose a bottle of Freixenet Cordon Negro Cava, which according to the label, would have strong notes of citrus and apple. Upon pouring a glass, my nose was tickled from the effervescence, but immediately overcome with a strong green apple flavor.

As Michael came to the table with the cornbread, we studied each element of the dish, our mouths beginning to salivate. I made a toast with the bubbly, and we each took a sip. With a light body, but a lingering dryness, the Cava had a airiness that would cut through the greasiness of the fish. The fruitiness in the smell, did not carry over into the taste, but instead was replaced with a sweet tart flavor.

Sinking our forks into the fish, the crispy outside broke underneath the weight of our prongs. Tender and succulent, I chewed the fish with a reminiscence of childhood. Each bite was as fresh and new as the first, thanks to the bubbly ability of the Cava. The crispy greens were almost like potato chips, adding that extra crunch needed with such smooth and fatty flavors. The corn bread was a party in my mouth, little flavor pockets of onion and jalapenos with and exaggerated corn flavor. The black eyed peas grounded out the dish with their smoky earthiness.

In a matter of minutes I was looking down to an empty plate and an empty glass. While I chose another piece of corn bread, Michael chose another helping of everything else. Feeling the bubbles rise to my head, I poured another two glasses of Cava and sunk into culinary bliss. Another Perfect Pair.

Top Chef of Tomorrow

Confit of Eggplant, Lentils, Garlic Purée, and Radish Salad + 2008 Firefly Ridge Pinot Gris: 4/5

I have pondered, over many a Top Chef viewing, what the food tastes like. You see, while I am not afraid to try anything, ingredients, processes, and preparations seen on Top Chef are as foreign to me as Chinese to a native english speaker. My lips have never touched a truffle, nor have I ever smelled a thread of saffron.

But unfamiliarity aside, I still have the words of Julia Child in the back of my head,

“No Fear.”

Since 2 of the 4 guest I invited for dinner were vegetarian, and the latest Top Chef episode featured an homage to Veggies, I thought I would capitalize on the opportunity to test my culinary ability by making Chef Eli Kirshtein’s Confit of Eggplant, Lentils, Garlic Purée, and Radish Salad. http://www.bravotv.com/foodies/recipes/confit-of-eggplant-lentils-garlic-pureacutee-and-radish-salad

For the future, when attempting a Top Chef recipe it is best to go to Whole Foods. This is where the Chef’s usually shop for challenges, and their selection of produce is superior to that of Dominick’s or Jewel. Unfortunately for me, I did not think of that until I was at Dominick’s already.

While the recipe called for Japanese eggplant, heirloom radishes, spring garlic, and Banyuls vinegar, I could only fine baby eggplant, full grown radishes, cloves of garlic, and balsamic vinegar. Similar, yes, but exact? No. So I picked up some watercress, and herbs to see if I could come up with similar flavor profiles. Since the recipe was also categorized as an appetizer, I decided to add a carrot salad to insure that there would be enough food.

I am not going to lie, the preparation and cooking was stressful. Never have I used so many dishes, spoons, pots, pans, blenders, and heating surfaces for one recipe. Luckily having a serving background has given me the ability to multi-task and handle stressful situations. No Fear, right?

As my guests, Rocio, Shelbey, and Zachary, came into the apartment, I was putting my eggplant medallions into the pan, browning butter, reducing cream, simmering lentils, and blending the garlic and watercress into a purée. Seeing my stress, I was greeted with compliments of good smells, french bread, a bottle of white wine, and a block of brie. Taking a deep breath, I went back to work.

For wine I was feeling pretty confident in my pairing abilities. Since the dish was strictly vegetables and grains, I was certain that the wine of choice would be white. Afraid that a buttery Chardonnay would be overpowering, and a Riesling too sweet, I narrowed my options to Pinot Grigio or Sauvignon Blanc. While both wines are un-oaked Pinot Grigio provides more fruity notes, while Sauvignon Blanc offers earthier tones.

As an alternative, I opted for a 2008 Firefly Ridge Pinot Gris. Similar to Pinot Grigio but usually categorized as a new world wine, this particular wine offered tropical and melon flavors, with a smooth and silky body.

Plating is just as important to a Top Chef as taste, so when it was time, I tried aligning each component horizontally. Not liking that, I separated everything into circles on a triangular plate, which looked more appetizing to me. When it came to my plate, I had used all of the triangles, so I plated mine with the circle grouping style on a rectangle(pictured).

With the lentils and eggplant acting as “meat” the carrot and radish salads provided pops of color on the plate. I went for the carrot salad first, familiar with its zesty dressing, sweet raisins, and crunchy carrots. Apprehensive that the carrots would be unrelated to the rest of the dish, I moved to the fennel and radish salad. Providing a spicy crunch, a sweet anise overtone, and a bitter herby vinaigrette, the Top chef salad teetered on the tongue, hitting a multitude of senses before a lingering finish. Finally I moved to the eggplant. Having sat, covered in salt, for a half an hour, the eggplant was tender, and flavorful. The garlic puree, added an additional earthy undertone, brought out by the saltiness of the eggplant. When paired with the lentils the texture was creamy, but though enough to chew. The lentils themselves, on the other hand, were another story.

After I added the reduced cream, the lentils took on a sweet, almost spoiled, milk flavor. I did the best I could to return to the original carrot, celery and onion profile, and even doctored it with spices, salt and pepper, but in the end my palate had been tainted and I could only taste the cream. The others said they liked them, but the only remnants found on anyone’s plate was lentils.

The melon and citrus notes of the Pinot Gris gave off an almost Jolly Rancher or rock candy aroma. Worried that the wine would not hold up to the range of flavors in the dish, I took a sip. The light straw-like colored wine had a silky body and left a lingering fruity flavor in the mouth, but at the same time, was cleansing to the palate. Playing off of the sweetness of the carrots, the spiciness of the radish, and the earthiness of the eggplant, each sip brought out a different colour of the dish, while not loosing itself to the bold flavors. Since the overall effect of the meal was light, the wine was a perfect match.

Obviously I am no Top Chef, but for a first attempt at stepping into the gastronomic world of fine food, I would categorize my meal as a success. My vegetarian friends were pleased, Michael, although left craving meat, like it. Rocio was ready for bed. As I looked over the mountainous stack of dirty dishes, I couldn’t help feeling accomplished. Who knows what the future holds, but I know that food will be a part of it. Another perfect pair.

Fricassee, Friends, and Feelings of Home

Chicken Ficassee with Chive Dumplings and Pacific Rim Dry Riesling: 4/5

Fall has such flavors—cinnamon, nutmeg, pumpkin, apple. Looking at golden leaves, falling gently to a browning green carpet calls for warmed cider, mulled wines, and food that reminds you of home.

Michael and I went to Texas a week or so back, and we returned with a cook book. Within its tattered pages, browning with age and soaked with grease stains and bits of recipes past, was a taste of history, Betty Crocker’s Cookbook from 1974. Thumbing through its pages, a picture of what looked to be chicken and dumplings caught my eye, making me feel the books past, wondering about a 1970’s household, unfamiliar with the gastronomic world.

Chicken Fricassee with Chive Dumplings. Fricassee means any meat that is stewed together with gravy and vegetables and served with noodles and dumplings. Don’t worry I didn’t know that either. I looked over the recipe, calling for shortening and salad oil, ingredients not usually found in generation Food Network recipes. All the same, I find it funny what you can find on the internet these days. Without even having the cookbook, you can find this recipe at http://www.recipezaar.com/Chicken-Fricassee-With-Chive-Dumplings-340905, imagine that.

I set off to make the meal, gathered my ingredients, and heated my cast iron dutch oven with butter and shortening. I have learned that butter is the key to browning meat. While preparing my chicken, my butter got to hot, and started to smoke in the pan. A fog began to circulate through the living room, and make its way towards the smoke detector. As Michael spun a towel like a helicopter beneath the smoke detector, I reduced the heat and hurried to get the chicken in the pan. Through the fog of our apartment, little halos danced around the evening city lights, beautiful, but not exactly pleasant for our eyes.

The rest of the recipe went along smashingly, until I got to the dumplings. Audrey, a co-worker from the restaurant that Michael and I have both worked at, and dinner guest for the evening, sat at the island separating our kitchen from the living area, talking about her latest school project that Michael was helping her with. Not until the dumplings were in the pot did I realize that the recipe said 3/4 teaspoon of salt, and 3/4 cup of milk, not 1/4. Fishing out the dumpling from the dutch oven, I debated trying to salvage the gravy covered dough balls. Squeezing the slimy dough, I opted for starting over. Luckily the second time went smoothly.

The smell of greasy chicken coated the apartment like a pat of butter on freshly toasted bread. Most of the smoke had filtered out of our windows, leaving the chill of the night to nip at bare forearms and exposed necks. Audrey, Mike, and I sat at the table, looking at golden yellow dumplings with specks of green, and a taupe gravy with beige chicken. As soon as a bite hit my mouth I was taken to my childhood, the chilly nights where kitchen smells would taunt my nose while I concentrated over algebra homework and a grumbling stomach. The T.V. blaring in the living room, covering the sound of rattling pots and pans, while my mom moved about the kitchen like an ant making its way back to the hill.

These are the flavors that satiate the hunger of fall, coating the throat as they move down to rest in the stomach. These are the meals that leave you feeling satisfied, and help you forget about the soon to be negative temperatures of winter.

Although www.winedin.com suggested a Pinot Noir or American Chardonnay, as I roamed the isles for a bottle, I was over taken by an urge to try something based on my own volition. I held a bottle of Pacific Rim Dry Riesling. While one would expect a Riesling to be sweet, like those of Germany, this was from Santa Cruz California, and it had dry in the title. I asked myself, as I ponder its description of lime and apricot flavors, would this be similar enough to a Chardonnay to hold up against the rich and creamy flavors of the dish? I went for it.

The Riesling had a powerful nose of apricot, but left us searching for the lime. We had all tasted the food before the wine, coating our palates with the bold peppery gravy and sticky dumplings. Swishing a bit of wine around in my mouth, I found that the body was that of Chardonnay, but the crispness of the wine was that of a Sauvignon Blanc. There was little sweetness, but the lingering finish was distinctively Riesling. Although a Pinot Noir might have paired a bit better, the effect was still enjoyable.

As Michael served up apple crisp a la mode for dessert, I finally let out a sigh of relief. Although this recipe might call for a towel helicopter, and a redo on dumplings, it was worth the effort, and left me with a lingering sense of home. Another perfect pair.

A Pumpkin Pairing

Pumpkin Soup with Cran-Apple Relish + 2008 Red Bicyclette Chardonnay: 5/5

On Thursday I was a mime at Robot Lounge’s, my friend’s band, show at the Cubby Bear. After a long night and an entire day to recover on Friday, a rinse and repeat was not sounding all too fun for Halloween. While Michael and I did have this great Idea of going as Tim Gunn and Heidi Klum, me being Heidi of course, I just couldn’t muster the gusto to go. So we made the executive decision to spend this Halloween at home, leaving the perfect opportunity for a poignant pairing.

With and afternoon spent making apple chips, because we are still using up the apples from our apple orchard visit, I was channeling the festive spirit. I wanted to make a fall dish inspired by Halloween. My first thought, split pea soup. Ya’ know, The exorcist, split pea soup? We could watch the movie while enjoying a nice steaming bowl of Reagan (Linda Blair) vomit. Delicious.

Exorcist aside, Michael doesn’t like split pea soup, so I had to come up with another option. So I hit the computer, pulled up my new best friend, The Food Network, and perused the pumpkin recipes. With five stars and 214 reviews and comments, Rachel Ray’s Pumpkin Soup with Chili Cran-Apple Relish http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/rachael-ray/pumpkin-soup-with-chili-cran-apple-relish-recipe/index.html tingled my taste-buds, and I would get to use some more apples!

The only pumpkin soup I ever had was over seas. I had the opportunity to go to New Zealand with the boys choir I sang with in high school. Whomever coordinated our trip decided that buffets were a perfect fit for two tour busses full of adolescent boys. By the end, I think we had eaten at every buffet on the two islands. Some buffets were fancier than others, some had seafood, others had decedent dessert bars, others just plain awful, and some were a hybrid of a sit down restaurant and buffet. In the case of the latter, a soup course would be served as an appetizer, while each table was allowed to browse the buffet. In most instances, the soup would be a bland, creamy orange liquid with a grainy texture. No spice, depth, or richness, just a monotone pumpkin puree. Although I was only 16, I knew flavorful, and that pumpkin soup was not it. Maybe it was a New Zealand thing, they also eat Vegemite and make their scrambled eggs runny.

So I was a little hesitant in making pumpkin soup, especially after reading some reviews that complained the soup was a bit bland. But reluctantly I decided I would give it a shot, and if worse came to worse I would play with the seasoning to take it up a notch.

The preparation is not hard, and coming from 30-minute meals, didn’t take to long either. The last step is to add 2 cups of heavy cream and season with nutmeg. I tasted a spoonful before adding the cream. Rich flavors of thyme, celery, onion and pumpkin saturated my palate, no blandness here. So I added the cream, expecting the flavor to stay the same, I stirred and simmered, and went in for another taste. The creamy texture coated the back of my spoon perfectly and the smell of halloween wrapped me like gauze from a mummy. I took the spoon to my mouth, feeling the warmth of the liquid wrap itself around my tongue. All of those rich flavors I had tasted before seemed to disappear. The texture was right, but the flavor was gone.

So I thought, and then started to play. The great thing about soup, you can always fix it. By introducing new flavors in small increments, no soup is a lost cause. Just hold your spoon in hand, and cleanse your palate before each bite. To mine, I added 2oz of pumpkin, some salt and pepper, cinnamon, more hot sauce, some Mrs. Dash, Montreal chicken seasoning, and what brought everything together, a light dusting of chipotle chili powder. With my last taste, the richness returned and beneath the surface there was a growing chipotle heat.

According to this cool website I found www.winedin.com, where you can put in food and it will suggest a wine, Pumpkin soup goes best with Chardonnay, Viognier, or Gewürztraminer. As we passed the chilled wine section, Michael spotted a 2008 Red Bicyclette Chardonnay from Southwestern France. With bright oak, tropical fruit, and vanilla flavors, I thought that the profile would accompany the richness of the soup. And to include into our Halloween evening, the image of the bicycle on the bottle had a basket, reminiscent of Elmira Gulch, The Wicked Witch of The West.

The combination of the crunchy apple relish, the smoothness of the soup, and the added texture from the cooked celery and onion made my palate keen and sensitive. The wine provided a bath for my tongue, refreshing and able to handle the buttery texture of the soup. Little sweet bits of cranberry held hands with the tropical fruit flavors of the Chardonnay, while the vanilla undertones swirled with the cinnamon and honey of the soup. This was not the pumpkin soup of New Zealand, this was fit for the Queen of England.

Satiated and satisfied we curled up on the couch to watch a scary movie, while apple crisp cooked in the oven. Cozy smells cinnamon and brown sugar washed over us like a blanket of silk. Sometimes moments spent in on nights known for unrest are some of the best remembered. Another perfect pair.