January 31, 2009

frugality, simplicity... and chili

Those of you who know us are familiar with our tradition of making January our annual "month of frugality," during which we significantly limit the things we can purchase. We do this as a way of taking a break from the excesses of the holidays, and to start the new year out with a fresh perspective on what it looks like to live more simply. And we then try to figure out something positive to do with the money we save. So during January, our expenses end up boiling down to just two categories: groceries and gas.

And I give up alcohol for a month. That's right. My last adult beverage was a glass of cava, which I finished 2 seconds before midnight on December 31st with S+K. And in about 5 hours, I'm going to welcome in the month of February with either a Manhattan or a Negroni at Cafe Presse with those same friends. Perfect.

This year's month of frugality has been a good one. As in past years, I managed to shed a couple of pounds (who knew alcohol had so many calories?), and we saved a good chunk of change to donate to Habitat for Humanity and Three Cups of Tea. I was a little surprised, though, at how obsessed I became with making certain things. First, it was meatballs... then bread... then chocolate chip cookies... pancakes... roast chicken... back to cookies... and bread. All such simple things, but precisely the kind of soul-satisfying comfort food I've been craving all month. I'm pretty certain I would have gotten into better shape if it hadn't been for those cookies.


So today is the last day of this fantastic month. When the sun rises tomorrow, I'll be able to go out and have an americano and a pain au chocolat from Besalu, ease back into the spellbinding grasp of Spinasse, or indulge in phenomenal sushi at Miyabi. But before that could happen, I needed to make one more simple, satisfying meal.

Chili.

This was born of necessity more than anything else. Lav was heading back home from the gym and I was looking for a simple, fulfilling (and filling) meal we could make with what we had in stock. In our fridge: leftover roast chicken breast, celery, baby bell peppers, an onion, celery and tomatoes. In the pantry: a can of butter beans. 45 minutes later, Lav came home and declared this one a keeper.



White Bean Chili with Chicken

1 medium onion, diced
1 clove of garlic, chopped
1 celery rib, diced
1 cup diced baby bell peppers
1/2 cup chopped tomatoes
1/2 cup white wine
1 lime or meyer lemon
1 can butter beans (or other white beans), drained
2 cups leftover chicken, torn into large chunks
2 cups water (adjust more or less to desired consistency)
1 teaspoon flour
1 tablespoon butter
1 teaspoon olive oil
1 teaspoon cumin
a few pinches of paprika

Heat the olive oil in a saucepan over medium heat and saute the onion with a generous pinch of kosher salt until lightly caramelized, about 4 minutes. Add the diced celery, bell peppers and garlic and continue cooking for 3 minutes. Making a well in the center of the saucepan, melt the butter and add the flour to make a quick roux. Once the flour is lightly toasted, add the cumin and paprika and stir the roux
until it is well incorporated with the vegetables. Deglaze with the white wine and stir until nearly dry. Add beans, tomatoes and water, stir thorough, cover and simmer until thickened--about 5 minutes. Stir in the chicken and turn the heat to low. When chicken is heated through, squeeze in the juice of 1 lime, season with salt and pepper to taste, and serve.

Garnish with shredded cheddar, cilantro and a few good shakes of Tabasco.

December 31, 2008

my top 10 for 2008

Happy New Year everyone! It's about this time that we start seeing the ubiquitous "top 10" lists for the year... top 10 films, top 10 songs, top 10 news stories... heck there's even a "Top 10 Predictions for Virtualization in 2009" (if you're into that sort of stuff... and I know of at least one person who is).

After reading Jonathan Kauffman's "Top 10 Dishes of 2008" I thought I'd compile a list of my ten favorite bites from the past year. Looking back on the food experiences we had over the last 12 months, I'm reminded of how exciting and vibrant the local food scene is here in Seattle and surrounding areas (including Vancouver, of course). So, in no particular order...

1. Charcoal ramen at Motomachi Shokudo: What are you supposed to say if someone wants to put charcoal powder in your ramen broth? Intensely dark, the broth's flavor is strikingly complex and balanced, with just a whiff of smokiness. The beauty of this bowl of ramen is only amplified by the perfection of the ramen's texture and the unctuousness of the slab of simmered pork. And yeah, it's good for you too.

2. Anything with octopus at Sitka and Spruce: I'm trying not to show any bias here because this is our favorite place in Seattle, but the first time we ordered octopus here, we were completely blown away. Impossibly tender, the meat of the octopus practically melted in our mouths... so much so that I had to ask if there was some special way they were cooking it. The answer? Nope, just sauteed simply, with the knowledge of precisely when to take it off the heat. In subsequent visits, we ordered octopus whenever it was on the menu so often, we had to make a consious effort to branch out. Revelatory.

3. Pupusas at Tacos Patzcuaro: I'm a sucker for a well-made pupusa. And I can't say I've had any better than the ones at Patzcuaro... Their fried exterior is both crispy and slightly chewy at the same time; the interior is pillowy soft... made to order, piping hot, and served with an engaging combination of warmth and pride by the friendliest folks you'll meet. Euphoric simplicity.

4. Penn Cove mussels at Toby's: This wins the award for most unexpected deliciousness. Toby's is an old school tavern in Coupeville. We only encountered it when we asked the father of one of the local winemakers where he liked to grab a bite to eat. And what we found were steamed mussels that were so good, our mouths were literally gaping after the first bite. Insanely fresh, insanely good.

5. Top Secret Cupcakes: The cupcake fad seems to have some staying power, and I've never had cupcakes that match the ones made by this local expert. Truly artisan, truly small batch, impossibly moist and tender... they'll make you a believer in cupcakes all over again. topsecretcupcakes@gmail.com.

6. Blood sausage at Olivar: This one almost didn't make the list because I've never had blood sausage before. But the flavor of this dish was incredible, unlike anything I've had. Made of pigs blood, fat and rice, the sausage was bold and intense in its captivatingly savory flavors, richly spiced for a symphonic taste that I still have yet to pull apart in my mind. I've been cautioned of the spine-shuddering flavors of poorly-made blood sausage... but with this dish, it's one of my new favorites.

7. Tajarin at Spinasse: One of the dishes that still haunts my memories from our days in the Bay Area is the tajarin (pronounced tai-yah-REEN) with 5-hour pork sugo at Perbacco... a truly beautiful dish. Justin Neidermeyer's tajarin with a ragu of pork, beef and veal is just as magnificent, but in a slightly different way. The texture and flavor of his pasta is more developed, but the ragu is more rustic. Phenomenal pasta texture--impossibly thin and delicate, but with enough structural integrity so you can sense every strand in each mouthful.

8. Kushi oysters on the half shell at the Corson Building: How have I never had a Kushi oyster before? Thankfully, these oysters are sourced from waters not too far north of Washington state. These Kushis were served with just a dab of grassy, zesty olive oil and a touch of fleur de sel... perfect for their sweet, buttery flavor. It's like what I always wished kumamotos could taste like...

9. Soup dumplings at Chen's Shanghai: More magic from our friends to the north. The quest for the ultimate xiao long bao is a life-long journey. And there is perhaps no better place to embark on that journey than the dynamic Chinese food scene in Richmond, B.C. Most people swear by the xiao long bao at Shanghai Wonderful (which are fantastic, no doubt), but the version at Chen's are transcendent. The dumpling wrapper is the most delicate I've ever seen, melting away in your mouth upon your first bite. The broth is clean and pure, bursting with glorious seasoned pork flavor... but not at all heavy. Amazing.

10. Sanma nigiri at Miyabi: It's always exciting to try a new kind of fish. It's even better when its flavor and texture vault it immediately to the top of your favorites list. Masa-san, the hard working artisan at our absolute favorite sushi restaurant in Seattle (ahem, Tukwila), encouraged us to try sanma (pike mackerel) during the autumn, when the fish was in season. Supremely fresh, slightly sweet, with a firm texture and tasting like the purest spray of ocean mist... one of those bites that changes your perception on things.

Runners up: Roasted Romanesco Cauliflower and Bagna Cauda at Spinasse, Jason's sweet baguette, raw octopus at Kingyo, cavatelli and mussels in a parsley pesto broth at Union, Kurodai crudo at How to Cook a Wolf, salad of local greens and beef tongue with roasted rainier cherries and chevre at the Corson Building, Vivace espresso ice cream from Molly Moon's.

Yep, it was a terrific year of eating, with both familiar and entirely new taste experiences.

What were some of your favorite dishes this year?

December 21, 2008

quest for a perfect omelette

All of the snow that has been hammering us over the past few days has given me a lot more opportunities to cook -- mostly really warm, rich braised dishes that are the epitome of comfort food.

We awoke this morning to even more snow... really huge flakes drifting down slowly and covering everything with yet another several inches. Seemed like a good day for making a perfect, decadent omelette.

But what makes a perfect omelette? That's a hard question; it's all about personal preference. Some people like to add a bit of milk to get a fluffier texture... others like to mix all the ingredients together with the egg before adding to the pan... still others are fans of cooking over higher heat to get some color to the eggs.

I tend to go for the simplest omelette possible. No milk, just a few ingredients, and cooked just until the egg has set on the outside while the inside stays warm and custardy. You've got to have a good non-stick pan, use a good pat of sweet cream butter, and cook it slow... real slow... never above medium high. The egg stays rich, moist, and almost sweet, and melds nicely with the ingredients folded inside.

This morning's omelettes had caramelized shallot, crisp bacon, sharp cheddar and slices of crisped mushroom (cooked in the bacon renderings). A bit of baby arugula dressed in meyer lemon juice and olive oil, some crusty bread, and brunch was set.

What's your perfect omelette?