Brunch: Pork-filled Muffins

This past Friday, a coworker asked the familiar Friday afternoon question: have any weekend plans? I replied that we were going for brunch in a small town in the area. This created interest. Where? What are their specialties? An implied "why have I never heard of this place before?" We were at the home of a former coworker of the Workaholic. We didn't really know what to bring. Bloody Marys? Rolls? Cheese? We knew that omelets would be provided, as well as Bellinis. Neither of us has a sweet tooth, but my Friday afternoon mind recalled a baked good she had read about a while back: bbq pulled pork stuffed cheddar-scallion cupcakes. This was the kind of baked good I could deal with.

There are no recipes for bbq pulled pork stuffed cheddar-scallion cupcakes on the web. In fact, the original appears to be a closely guarded secret.  All I knew was: bbq pulled pork in a Red Lobster-esque casing. Not knowing the least about baking, I started.

Saturday night, I made pulled pork with a store-bought rib rub, to which I added cumin (there was none included, and I like cumin). I made my own BBQ sauce with as much smoke as I could add without going outside: smoked garlic and smoked paprika. I drew the line at adding liquid smoke. I added warm beer, mainly because it was warm. Had the beer been cold, I may have consumed it on my own.

The "muffin mix" was easy:

1 3/4 c flour

2 tsp baking powder

1 tsp salt

ca 2 Tbsp butter

1 tsp cooled bacon fat (if you don't keep this in your fridge like I do, I guess you could leave it out)

1 c grated cheddar + 1/2 c

1 c thinly sliced green onions (scallions)

1 1/2 c buttermilk

Add baking powder and salt to flour. Crumble in butter and bacon fat until the mixture feels like sand. Add 1 cup cheddar and scallions. Add milk.

Place 1/2 Tbsp in the bottom of a muffin tin. Add pulled pork. Cover with 1 Tbsp of "muffin" mixture. Bake at 200 C for 15 minutes. Top with the remaining cheddar and continue to bake for a further 5 minutes.

These went over well at brunch, with the advice from a restauranteur that I leave off the paper liners & just grease the cupcake tins (and maybe add a hint of chopped jalapenos - but the restauranteur is from Arizona, so I'm not surprised with this advice). There's a lot more experimenting to be done.

The odd thing with experimenting is, sometimes it is well received, other times it is not. I'm taking my chances and publishing my incomplete results.

Valentines Bouquet

For all those in North America, I understand you may be tired of bacon. Bacon has been everywhere - not only on burgers and in cheesecakes but it snuck its way into an envelope filled with lip balm. Germany is a little different. While the country is far from underdeveloped in the porcine-products, bacon is only one of many ways to eat a pig.

Hot on the heels of the 6th Bacon Festival, I made the Workaholic a bacon-themed Valentine. I got the instructions from Instructables and made a few adjustments. German bacon is something of a joke. There are no thick slabs, the uncooked slices are maybe 15 cm (6"), the thin raw meat threatens to dissolve in your fingers as you lift it out of its plastic cocoon. There was no way I would fill 24 mini muffin tins with this bacon. Furthermore, there was no way I was going to drill holes in my muffin tins; I'd have to justify destroying pans by having weekly bouquets. There's only so many bouquets the Workaholic can handle before he has a heart attack.*

Wrapped around themselves, theses slices of bacon went in the oven and out came a bouquet of... well... roses on tulip bodies? Mutant flowers? One of the more ridiculous Valentine's presents? Yes, we'll call it one of the more ridiculous Valentine's presents. Now the challenge is: how to make something more ridiculous and delicious next year.

*the original plan to make a meal out of the bouquet and cheese fondue got nixed for fear of the need to call an ambulance.

Fall Rolls

While planning lunch this week (there is an actual plan stuck to the fridge with a magnet eye from Malta), I decided to make Vietnamese spring rolls. I had the rice paper in supply, I knew that they are easy to prepare but I had one minor issue: it's cold outside and I don't feel that mint and coriander and shrimp are appropriate. So instead of spring rolls, I opted for a more seasonally-appropriate fall roll.

We had duck breast earlier in the week. Leftover strips: cut up and in the roll. Pumpkin puree: in the roll. Mache (lamb's leaf lettuce)? In the roll. A few threads of cellophane noodles and slices of spring green onions, and we're good to go.


Fall rolls
4 sheets of rice paper
1/4 cup cellophane noodles (soaked)
1/4 cup of cooked, sliced duck breast
1/4 cup of mache
1/4 cup of pumpkin puree (mine was a butternut squash with garlic, onion and cumin)
top of one green onion, sliced thinly

Soak 1 rice paper sheet. When it is pliable, assemble 1/4 of all ingredients inside.
Soak 2nd rice sheet while you are working.
Roll by folding the top down, the sides in & rolling the rest down. Do not roll too tightly.
Wrap in plastic wrap and continue with the next roll.

Hoisin dipping sauce:
1 tbsp hoisin sauce
1/2 tsp grated ginger
1 tbsp rice vinegar
1/2 tbsp sambal olek

Mix everything together and serve with rolls.

Things to do with Kale III: Salad

Kale salads abound on the internet: recipes for, health benefit claims of, adoration of - it's all there. Given my seasonal influx of kale, I thought I would give it a try. I "massaged dressing into the chopped leaves", and I allowed to marinate. It seems as though I did everything right. What I failed to do, however, was buy the right kind of kale. Kale salad calls for "dinosaur kale" or "tuscan kale" or something else that is available in the summer, and not available here.

German kale, or Grünkohl, as it is called, is not available is summer. It is a hearty vegetable that is best after the first frost. It is stringy, it is filling, it is not the stuff for salads.

I made my salad with marinated tofu. I enjoy marinated tofu, and these little chunks of soy were enough to keep me going through my salad (or maybe it was the ravishing hunger?). Is this a repeat? Not until I go to Tuscany to sample the kale there.

Kale Salad with Marinated Tofu

1 block of pressed tofu
1 tbsp white miso
1 tbsp rice vinegar
1/2 tsp chili flakes
1 cup of chopped kale
3 tbsp olive oil - lemon juice vinaigrette

Chop tofu into bite sized pieces. Add miso, vinegar and chili to a zip-loc bag. Mix. Add tofu. Allow to marinate, at least overnight.
Toss kale with dressing using your hands, ensuring each leaf gets coated.  This can also marinate overnight.
Sautee or grill tofu. Add to kale.
Salt & pepper to taste

Things to do with Kale II - Kale Chips

Finally, I have been able to get on the kale chip bandwagon. For years, I have been unable to get my hands on fresh kale - something about German kale needing to be super-fresh before the vitamins self-destruct have kept it out of my reach. Perhaps there have been genetic mutations, perhaps the invention of refrigeration has finally broken into the mainstream - whatever the reason, I found 500g bags of kale in my supermarket and grabbed them. They are so foreign that the German gentleman in line ahead of me looked at what I had placed on the conveyor belt and asked, perplexed, what kind of spinach I was about to purchase.

Fresh kale is mine, and I did the easiest, tastiest thing I could think of: kale chips.

My kale comes washed and cut into bite-size pieces. All I have to do is give a final rinse (more for my sanity than for the sanitation of the kale), toss in a ziploc bag with some olive oil, scatter them in a thin layer on a baking sheet and bake at 150 °C for about 20 minutes. Toss with salt and nutritional yeast, put on a movie and you'll not miss chips.

If there are any, I keep leftover kale chips in a ziploc bag filled with air (my own recreation of a potato chip bag), and toast them before I devour another bowl. 

Nutritional yeast is the secret umami I've stolen from the hands of vegans. Apparently it contains B-vitamins. It also contains a whole lot of flavour and can be used to flavour soups, and, oh so importantly, snacks like popcorn and kale chips.

Things to do with Kale I - Caldo Verde

One winter night, long ago, a Dutch friend came back from a weekend trip from the Netherlands with a bag of greens. She invited us over to her place promising a Dutch specialty. Knowing what she had brought, I could barely contain my excitement. Borenkool, known as kale in English. It's very difficult to find this kind of kale because it grows best in cold weather and is best shortly after harvest. I've had it frozen or canned but fresh - there is a new world of opportunities awaiting with fresh kale. This is one of them.

My local supermarket has been having this influx of fresh kale, something I have not witnessed in the last years of shopping there. I saw a 500g bag and claimed it for myself. I made kale chips the first time (another post). The next week, I tried a soup I had tried previously and discovered, frozen kale is not always interchangeable with cooked kale.

I may or may not have had this soup in Portugal. Apparently it's very popular there. My Portuguese memories have all been overtaken by the flaky crust and sugary sweet custard, hot out of the oven, topped with cinnamon, ordered as a 6-pack of Pasteis de Belem, devoured in a nearby park. I still think of those pastries, I still scheme ways to have them delivered to me but I know they will never live up to the freshness that came out of the oven of the Cafe de Belem. There's no room for memories beyond that pastry. So maybe I had caldo verde in Portugal, maybe not, but I was pleased with the result I was able to conjure.

Caldo Verde is apparently a popular dish in Portugal, apparently meant to fill you and warm you. Apparently, it's made out of a certain kind of kale impossible to find outside of Portugal. Knowing that faking this kale is easier than faking that custard tart, I went ahead nonetheless. This soup certainly warmed and filled me on a cold November night. Part of the soup is mashed to add a creamier texture.

Caldo Verde
1 Tbsp olive oil
1 onion, chopped
1 carrot, chopped
6 cloves of garlic, minced
4 inch (10 cm) of chopped chorizo (extra-spicy)
1 sprig of thyme
small sprig of rosemary
2 bay leaves
1 cup of sliced fingerling potatoes
2 liters of water
250g of kale, sliced thinly
Olive oil to garnish

In a spot over a medium flame, sautee onions in olive oil and add carrot. Add garlic and chorizo until garlic is softened and chorizo has released its red colour. Increase heat to high , add potatoes and cook, stirring constantly until potatoes develop a crust. Add in thyme, rosemary and bay, cover with water. When potato slices are cooked through, use a potato masher to mash some (not all!) of the potatoes. Add kale and cook for remaining 5 minutes, until kale turns an emerald colour. Garnish with olive oil. Serve with a crusty bread.

Return from France

I insisted we spend the day in the supermarket. Not in France, but in a French supermarket. The goal was to get some wine, and maybe the odd pack of oysters or something. We did our regular shopping (wine and oysters and herbes de provence) and made haste towards the border. But wait! Can't we still have lunch in France? Lunch is a bit difficult in small towns at 5pm. We went window shopping in a border town before we sat down to our French Meal.

French Meals consist of French components that you would never find in one particular region, often not the region you are currently in. Paris may be the great exception because you can get everything there, but that would have been another blog entry that I was too engrossed with food to actually write. We did however find a leitmotif to carry us through our meal: garlic. Ail may be the only word the Workaholic knows in French, it is certainly very relevant to him.



The Amuse-bouche may have even set other people off. It was a terrine. It was a fantastic terrine but it was, well, bits of meat packed into jello.


The frog's legs could have been my thing but they were joined at the hip and looked like mangled barbie dolls. The Workaholic claims they are "like chicken wings" which confuses me because every time we go to his home town, we get chicken wings covered in hot sauce. These were covered in garlic. I am confused by the legs, joined at the hip, claiming to taste like wings. I am fairly certain that these wings have never seen a bottle of Frank's Red Hot in their day.

You may have already heard of escargot. We call them: the ultimate garlic delivery method. The crevices in snails enabled an extremely effective delivery of garlic, parsley, and butter to my mouth.



The truely Alsacian specialty was certainly the light as air tarte flambee. It's a French pizza, minus the tomato sauce, lessen the cheese, crust is paper-thin and ideally imparted with a kiss of a charcoal oven. This particular model was topped with topped with lardons (like bacon minus the cult surrounding it) and garlic. Lots of garlic. I may be able to fend off the Twilight movies for a few more years, thanks to the amount of garlic on this tarte flambee.

There we are, full of food, following our GPS. It tells us to cross the Rhine. We don't realize that we have to take the ferry at this particular juncture. So we pay the ferryman (in coins, no less) and cross the river. Our adventure in decadence behind us, our adventure with new wines about to start.

Wine Week in France

There are many things to look forward to in the fall - the changing of the colours, the rain and rainbows, the crisp air, and the wine harvest.

In Germany, there are wine fests in nearly every wine-growing town. These fests are a wonderful thing, they are full of local flair and local pride. German wine fests are something I try to ignore each year but simply cannot. Skipping across the border to France, there is a different tradition, which I am happy to drive 2 hours to be a part of.

Le Foire aux Vins - I have no idea what this translates to other than: WINE WEEK! In the fall, most major (think Wal-mart sized) supermarkets have some sort of specials on in which you go, try some wines and get a decent deal on a case. There were even cases on a buy 1, get 1free offer. Take a moment to consider we are talking about French Bordeaux. Absorb this: buy 6 bottles of Bordeaux, get 6 bottles free. This is amazing. I will drive for 2 hours; I might even drive longer if I needed to.

Not all Bordeaux are created equal mind you. This is where the Animateur comes in. Either this is a seasonal sommelier, in which case they are trying to engage in conversation with you, or this is the regular sommelier, in which case, he knows you and leaves you alone with a plastic cup to sample. I prefer the regulars.

The appeal in these wine weeks is apparently not only the great value but the distance. You are not a part of the vineyard. You are trying wines in a parking lot, in which your senses are not altered by the decor of the cellar of a particular Domaine. I like it because I can sample from all over France, in little tiny barrels, and my decisions are not so blind. Of course, the sales don't hurt either.

Harvest Season Begins - Clauer Hoffest

Somewhere I once read that in Japan, the women all change their outfits on one undeclared day, heralding the arrival or Spring. How a season can arrive on one day is a mystery to me; I'm used to seasons slowly creeping into the next. Take Fall for example. Fall is the harvest time in Germany, a season in which vintners go painstakingly through their vineyards to start production for the next release of wine. This is not the case in Germany this year. The summer has bled into the harvest and created a very hospitable environment to enjoy the harvest.

This year, we enjoyed the harvest with a local, family-run vintner, with the party they threw.

Frankly, the Workaholic and I have both been exhausted in the last little while and we were reluctant to take public transit to the middle of nowhere, walk on the side of a country road and rely on the GPS of our smart phones to get us to our ultimate destination. But the Heidelberg Crowne Plaza set up an oyster stand. I was willing to get lost in the woods for the promise of succulent oysters and sparkling wine. Thankfully, both the Crowne Plaza and the Clauer Sekt lived up to my expectations.

After a walk that lasted eternity, walking in the ditch, against oncoming traffic, we arrived amid a field of retro-tractors. These, although amusing, were not Sekt and oysters. I quickly surveyed the surroundings, found a sign and was in my happy place. There are places I need orientation and there are places with sparkling wine. The 2 groups are normally mutually exclusive.

Wine and festival: we ran into friends, shared some wine and danced to a swing quartet. A decent party by any measure. Are we ready to return? Perhaps next year. We may have a better idea of how to get there on the train.

Clauer Wine: http://www.weingutclauer.de/
Public Transit to Clauer Vineyard: Grab a bunch of friends and split a taxi.

The Lady who Lunches

Last week, surrounded by great self-made fanfare, I returned to my blog. Now I am faced with a few harsh realities:

1. days are getting shorter leaving less daylight hours to take photographs of food
2. taking pictures of your food at the work cafeteria makes you look like a weirdo
3. the "Program" the Workaholic insists on following is restrictive (it's a program, not a diet)
4. I spend a lot of time cooking as a result of aforementioned Program

Last week had a few fun lunches that were relatively easy:

• the homemade summer rolls
• a chickpea and arugula salad
• a quinoa and black bean salad
• black bean salad with fresh corn, avocado and tomatoes

The chickpea and arugula salad has been a mainstay of the program. Easy to prepare and it keeps overnight.
Contents:
chickpeas (from a can, then drained)
arugula
chopped tomatoes
chopped grilled eggplant & zucchini
(tip: grill a bunch of things & add to sandwiches, salads or dinner through the week)
chopped red onion
red wine vinegar
olive oil




Part of the pleasure of bringing my own lunch when we have a fully catered canteen is the reaction of my coworkers. When I brought my Quinoa Salad with Black Beans, my lunch date asked me if he could be in the picture. Behold my salad & my coworker:
Contents:
Cooked quinoa
Black beans (dried & then cooked)
parsley
tomatoes
red onions
olive oil
apple cider vinegar

The next day, I had the pleasure of a surprise visit from an old friend. I was so engrossed with catching up, I got back to my desk only to realize, I had no photos. I quickly called the Workaholic and he has happy to oblige. I quickly discovered that the Workaholic is in a much darker environment than I am.

Contents:
Black beans (the dried kind are the best I can find in Germany)

grilled corn, shucked

chopped tomaotes

chopped avocado

lime juice

cilantro

chili

Fruit Salad:

Pear

Blueberries

1/2 Kiwi

Cranberry juice to keep it from looking gross

That's it. A week of lunches. Let's see if I can find anything new this week. While still adhering to The Program, of course.

Reconnecting through lunch

Hello again!

It has been a while since I was last here. Eons ago, I took on a new job that allowed me to either cook or to write about cooking. If I gave up the cooking, I would have had the time to write about food but no material. An uncomfortable situation. I chose the food.

I'm back because an old friend, Emily, is running a contest of sorts on her site. She encourages everyone to get creative with their lunches. Because I have come to the conclusion that my cafeteria's offering of fries & schnitzel is not always my friend, I have been packing a lot of my own lunches. Today was a Vietnamese-style summer roll with a peanut dipping sauce and chopped mango and strawberry.

The rolls are filled with Thai basil, lettuce, bean thread, MSC-approved shrimp, mint, and slices of carrot, radish and red chilies.  The peanut sauce has chili oil, peanut butter, maybe soy sauce, maybe rice vinegar, maybe green onions. I'm not really sure because it was leftover from something else. Because I planned this lunch ahead of time, the actual assembly was 20 minutes for 4 rolls. It took me more time to make the fruit salad that I only realized was necessary after I saw all the empty space in my lunch box.

Summary: both the Workaholic and I were content. And it was the envy of my co-workers who had spaghetti with meat sauce.

Salmon Exchange I - Alaskan Smoked

There has been a long absence in my blogging. This may have been noticed by the astute, interested reader. This may have fallen by the wayside of readers who have found other blogs in the meantime. The absence, however, can easily be explained. I can have 2 of the following 3 things in my time: a stimulating job, fun food adventures or regular blog entries. Because blog entries require input, that is, fun food adventures or similar, I have had to reduce the amount of entires due to the advent of the stimulating job I started on August 1.

In spite of my limited time, I have managed to enjoy the summer and the company of friends. This post was inspired by one friend and made possible by another. After learning that I can consume salmon, one friend from Ireland promised to bring me some Irish smoked salmon from the Emerald Isle. I thought that Canadian Pacific Salmon might be a pleasant way to repay the favour. Every Canadian airport has a few things in the duty free shop: ice wine, maple syrup and smoked salmon. My part of this exchange would be easy to contribute. Flights to Toronto were already booked.

As I told people of my newly discovered lack of allergy to salmon, I also mentioned the plans of the salmon exchange. One day on Skype, the Workaholic's sister heard of my plans. She also made a trip out to Alaska. A few days into her trip, I got an email informing me that salmon was on it's way to the lower 48 States. I only had to get it to Toronto and then to Germany. Vacuum sealed and fully frozen, I put the pink flesh into my suitcase. After a drink in the airport bar and a 7 hour flight, the salmon was still cold. I called my Irish friend and a few others and invited everyone over for hors d'oeuvres.

Platter of Pink

On the platter was cold smoked sockeye salmon, hot smoked king salmon, hot smoked sockeye salmon and salmon jerkey. And everyone brought something over as well - organic bread, a garlic pecorino, a few bottles of prosecco, olives and other nibbles. As for the salmon - we all decided it was an indulgent treat worth the hassle of bringing it over 7,000 km.

Salmon Jerkey

We never made it out for dinner and we went through all the cheese and wine we had in the house. A small price to pay for such a lovely treat - both the salmon and the company. We all look forward to repeating the pleasure soon. The Irish salmon has already reached the continent.

Camp Paella

One of the benefits of being in a vacation home as opposed to a hotel is the fact that there is a kitchen and you can cook the foods found at the local market. The down side of cooking in the kitchen of a vacation home is that the spice rack is often bare. My task was to make dinner for 6 people in a vacation home, a stone's throw away from a local farm, with only dried cilantro and a bag of rice in the cupboard.

The farm had phenomenal corn on the cob, but we had just had that a few nights previously. I bought a pint of fresh peas, got in the car and drove to the supermarket. My plan was to use what I deemed the only salvageable item in the kitchen: the rice. My plan was a paella because it only relies on wine (readily available), stock (easily purchased at the store) and saffron (here, I was concerned). The supermarket had "American saffron" which is very different than the Persian strands I have in my kitchen. These blossoms are named "American" but grown in China and imported by a company in Quebec. I put my hesitation aside, threw the orange blossoms of saffron in the cart and continued shopping. "Try the local foods," I thought to myself, "even if they are global".

You're on vacation. Don't worry if what you cook turns into a disaster. You get the chance to try something new. Enjoy the company and watch the sun set.

Camp Paella
1 onion, diced
3 cloves of garlic, minced
olive oil
1-454g bag of rice
a glass of white wine
1/2 tsp American saffron
1 L of salt-free chicken stock
1 red pepper, diced
1 pint of peas, shelled
350 g frozen shrimp
350 g frozen bay scallops

Thaw seafood, reserving liquid.
Saute onion in olive oil, add garlic. When translucent, add red pepper. When the pepper is getting soft, add rice & stir until coated.
Add wine. When liquid from wine has evaporated, add stock. Continue stirring now and then.
Sip own glass of wine & chat with other vacationers.
Check on rice every now and then. If it needs more liquid, add the liquid from the thawed seafood. Ensure rice is almost cooked.
Add peas and seafood, allow everything to cook for a few more minutes.

Eating Out: Duff's Wings

"Ooh, let's order 100 wings, all medium hot; that's only very hot, not very very hot!" screams out one of the 8 little league boys at a neighbouring table. We're at Duff's in Buffalo, who may not have the claim of being the home of the original Buffalo wings, that claim goes to the Anchor Bar, but was the recent host of president Obama.

Of course you can make wings at home and you certainly don't have to go to Buffalo for the pleasure but there's something special about the wings there. I'd normally drive right past a place like Duff's, a decision based not only on appearances but also based on the fried, vinegar smell of the parking lot. Inside, the dark dining room is made even darker by wood panels. It's loud. There's no bar. The chairs are stackable and covered in vinyl. Nonetheless, we have to wait for a table for lunch.

We order 30 wings, which might be excessive but we were very hungry. We were not aware of the fact that the chicken wings at Duff's are from some sort of weight-lifting chickens with ridiculously large arms. 20 wings clearly would have been sufficient for our amount of hunger, which would have been 10 per person. This is the minimum order, and had we not been starving ourselves before, 10 mutant wings would have been enough to share.


After the wings arrive with their requisite celery and blue cheese sauce (spellt "bleu" in Buffalo), we dug into our wings, the smell of spicy vinegar permeating our nostrils before we could even take a bite. Too hot to eat just yet, I dipped my first wing into the cheese sauce. Not bad. We ordered the medium-light, after being warned that the medium is hot, and the hot is very, very hot. The medium-light sauce eats it's way through my lipstick and I can feel a light warmth outside my lips. Recharged after my afternoon snack, I leave the bar that I would normally have never entered, full of a not-so secret treat.

Football needs Wings

It's the World Cup of Football right now, and I can't stop watching matches. Last night , I cheered as Japan made it on to the next qualifying round. In a few hours, I'll put aside my things and watch Portugal vs. Brazil and North Korea vs. Cote D'Ivoire on split screens. But all this football is making me hungry.

If you're from North America, you likely think of the game with quarterbacks and huddles and big headgear when the word football is mentioned. I've never really understood the appeal of this game, it goes a little too slow for my taste. However, I love the beer and wings that go along with it. So, even if this is a different kind of football - one actually played with feet - I made some wings to go with the game. And having a Buffalonian around means that there are going to be Buffalo wings.

The wings are pretty easy, if you have a bottle of good hot sauce.
1) boil wings
2) place wings in bag with hot sauce and melted butter (lots of melted butter)
3) bake wings at 200°, turning them over once.
4) broil wings if not crispy enough
5) place wings in bowl, toss with more hot sauce and melted butter
6) serve with celery and dip.

The dip is normally a blue cheese dip, which is spelled "bleu cheese" for some reason I am yet to understand. I took 125 g of roquefort, 2 tbsp of mayonnaise, 3 tbsp of yogurt and 1 tsp of lemon juice.

There are higher fat versions of both the wings and the dip, but considering I'll be eating a few of these over the next few weeks, I can't really afford to go for the full-fat versions. Although I'd be tempted if I was in Buffalo.

Things That Come in the Mail: Green Tea Kit Kat

Not so long ago, a coworker announced that he was finally going to go for his dream trip to Japan. Happy that he was embarking on his adventure of a lifetime, I told him to try some Wasabi Kit Kats. At this point, all I really knew about the Japanese food that isn't really imported is: 1) you can buy nearly everything in a vending machine and 2) they really like their Kit Kats in Japan. Little did I know that Wasabi Kit Kats actually exist, but are only sold in Shizuoka. Apparently, they are intended as gifts - you travel to a certain area of Japan and you can buy an exotic Kit Kat for your friends at home. This is what I'm lead to believe, but I'm not 100% certain.

My coworker came back, full of stories, and with 1 Kit Kat in hand. Green Tea. He left the price tag on for authenticity. I didn't mind that it didn't come from a vending machine. The package is actually a box, and you can send it in the mail, like a postcard. While I love getting mail, this Kit Kat was already doomed to being crushed in my purse. It didn't need an extra crunch from a postal worker.

What's the green tea kit kat all about? It's white chocolate that has green tea in it. That's it. Not really exciting, not really offensive. Is it something that I will really crave? I don't think so. Is it something to write home about? Only if you write on the back of the box & stick it in the mail.

New Find: MSC Salmon Steaks

Although I like to cook exotic things, I stay away from fish. There are two simple reasons for this: 1) I believe in sustainable fishing and try my best to support it, at the cost of popular, flavourful fish, and 2) I'm sort of allergic.

After having seen fish in the seas, I was frightfully aware of the fact that they are not as numerous as in Jaques Cousteau films. I believe in sustainable fishing, that is, fishing that is done responsibly, ensuring that there is something in the ocean the next time we want a salmon steak.

The allergy was discovered years ago when I was a child. My face puffed up and my allergist tested my reaction against various fish. I did not seem to show a reaction to tuna, but I choose to eat tuna very rarely because, 1) it could have been in contact with other fish and 2) it is not normally caught in a sustainable manner. Yes, the dolphins will survive but they will not necessarily be playing in the oceans with tuna.

In Paris, I was severely tempted to try the salmon tartare before me. I hesitantly picked up my fork, took a minuscule piece and waited. I know what it feels like when I'm allergic to something and I knew that this was something I could eat. I discovered that I like salmon. At least I liked this salmon. Maybe I'd like other salmon. Not something I thought about much until I was in the local discount supermarket and saw this:


MSC approved salmon steaks.
The Marine Stewardship Council (MSC) is an independent non-profit organization that promotes responsible fishing. Their logo is on fish products that meet their standards for fishing. This is fish that I can eat with a clear conscience. It's fish that I know has been harvested in a way that will allow future generations of fish & fish lovers to exist side by side.

I grilled the salmon steaks for the workaholic and took a small bite. It wasn't the mind-blowing salmon that I had in Paris, but it wasn't bad. The best part is, we can eat it with a clear conscience and, because it's at the discount supermarket, a clear conscience doesn't have a high price.

Daring Kitchen: June - Terrine

Our hostesses this month, Evelyne of Cheap Ethnic Eatz, and Valerie of a The Chocolate Bunny, chose delicious pate with freshly baked bread as their June Daring Cook’s challenge! They’ve provided us with 4 different pate recipes to choose from and are allowing us to go wild with our homemade bread choice.

An ideal challenge for someone who loves pate. Unfortunately, the free-range chicken livers that were purchased for this challenge turned into a buttery rich meal with caramelized onions and grapes. More on that later.

We all know that I'm not a baker. Bread and I don't get along. There was the time, years ago, that I tried to make croissants. I put hours into the ordeal, only to wake up on Sunday morning, pop the effort of the last 6 hours into the oven and a few minutes later ask: where's the rest of them? I don't know why bread does not rise in my kitchen. Presumably, bread has risen in those kitchens when other people inhabited them, but there is no remaining evidence. This is my excuse for not posting photos of my malformed loaf.

Because I'm not posting on a malformed loaf, one could conclude that my pate was spectacular. The pate was spectacular, but only on relative terms. I thought it would be interesting to try something new, like a terrine or something that involved savoury jell-o. Years ago on the beach outside of Monte Carlo, I had a fantastic homemade terrine, made by my friend's mother-in-law. While I am aware of the fact that she is an excellent cook, as is her daughter, I thought I could improvise anything involving gelatin. Here, I was proven wrong. I should have added more gelatin to every layer. I tried spinach, roasted garlic & peppers and cream cheese with freshly grated horseradish. Did we eat it? Yes. Was it a surreal terrine on the beach of the South of France moment? No. Will anything be a surreal terrine on the beach of the South of France moment? Certainly. I just have to make a few phone calls first.

Paris: Le Bar a Huitres

One thing I really wanted to do in Paris was sit & have some oysters with my Workaholic. I had our getaway planned and oysters were scheduled for the first night. I booked a table at Le Bar a Huitres near the Bastille. We got out at the exact opposite metro exit, walked around the Bastille and found men shucking oysters on the street. That's how I knew that we were in the right spot.

We ordered a giant platter which had 2 different kinds of oysters, mussels, clams, cockles, periwinkles, prawn and North Sea shrimp, as well as a crab. I satisfied my craving for oysters while we drank a bottle of Pouilly-Fuissé (a white wine from Bourgogne). We sat, shelled our crab, drank wine and let the hours pass. I found it was the perfect way to introduce the Paris to the workaholic.

Le Bar a Huitres has 4 locations. If you're in Paris and craving oysters, maybe there'll be one close to you.

Paris: L'Argume

L'Argume is a little out of the way but it offers food that encourages you to make the journey. I called the day before our arrival, shortly after our plans had been ironed out, in the naive hope that maybe there might possibly be a table for 2 free on a Saturday night. A table on a Saturday in a restaurant that seats 30 and serves 5 course meals for under €50/person. An amusing thought. Well, instead of asking if they have anything available for lunch, we went down to see for ourselves. Everything was booked but we got one of the bar tables at the front. What awaited us? The most friendly service, explaining every aspect of the menu. We decided that the lunch sampler was our best bet, enabling us to try all 3 starters and 1 main each.

Starters:
ham, belgian endive salad with apple and a mustard vinaigrette. In all honesty, this simple dish stole the show as the vinaigrette pulled everything seamlessly together
salmon tartare with lime juice. I was hesitant with this one as I have never had good experiences with salmon but it was beautiful. Oily fish in the tart lime juice with nothing but a mild olive oil, a hint of parsley and fleur de sel.
spider crab soup. All parts of the crab were used and so there was a mild bitter note at the end. Nonetheless, a nice sample.

Mains:
braised beef cheeks. Done to perfection with a bit of jus and a hint of pepper.
red mullet. Again, very good.
sides: carrots and onions. They were not falling apart but they were a little overdone for our liking.

Desert:
gorgonzola with arugula and apples.
warm cherry soup with rosemary and a scoop of raspberry ice cream. Both were a delight.

Having a good meal in Paris is easy if you're willing to spend loads of money. For me, the challenge was having an amazing meal for under 90€ a person. This was easily achieved at L'Argume. The food and the staff and the friendliness of everyone in the restaurant on this particular Saturday made this a meal to remember.