Michael Ruhlman's Blog, page 41

America Has a Serious Eating Disorder

Danger: salt is back. Photo by Donna Turner Ruhlman.

No, wrong. America has a serious THINKING disorder.

See that white stuff raining down from my fingers? It’s salt. And it’s the way you should salt the food you cook on your stove top or the chicken that’s going into your oven. But if you listen to the ABC Nightly News reporting about The Dangers of Salt, aka ABC News acid reflux, and then read today’s NYTimes page one story saying that salt is not bad for you, you must be wondering who to listen to. Well if you are, just stop listening and think for your fucking self.

I have a dear friend who prevents his kids from drinking any milk other than nonfat milk but thinks nothing of serving them Kraft Macaroni and Cheese. Seriously. (The nonfat milk issue is not uncommon, judging from the fact that my son’s friends marvel at the amazing quality of the milk we serve at our house—2%—which I still find a hypocritical marketing scam since good old-fashioned whole milk is 3.7% fat, but they don’t tell you that). Another dear pal excoriated me in an email about the quantities of fat I eat (when he has no idea really what or how I eat, owing to the fact that he lives in Virginia and not in my house in Cleveland).

Does fat make you fat? Yes, if you eat enough of it, you moron. Is salt bad for you? If you live on KFC and Dunkin’ Donuts you’ve got a helluva bigger problem than salt intake.

To quote the Times reporter: “Those consuming the lower level of sodium had more than three times the number of hospital readmissions.”

I don’t see this latest news about salt as anything important or new (for godsake, you’d die without salt), but it does validate the fact that America has a serious eating disorder. Don’t listen to the Times (read it and think about it, yes), and don’t listen to the nightly news barfing up the latest studies.

(Jesus, it’s not good for me to get worked up in the morning, I know that for sure. This is how salt raises MY blood pressure.)

Is salt bad for you? No. Is lettuce bad for you? Damn fucking right it’s bad for you (if it’s the only thing you eat). Is smoking cigarettes bad for you? Of course it is, you moron, it will kill you. Have you seen the lungs of a smoker? We know for certain it’s a major cause of cancer. Is exercise good for you? Well, how do you feel after a good hike in the mountains or a workout in the gym? Is drinking alcohol bad for you? How do you feel after a bottle of wine with a good roast chicken versus 12 shots of tequila and a Jagermeister nightcap?

Sorry to have to repeat myself, but it seems one can’t say it enough: cook your own food or cozy up to someone who does (in which case offer to do the dishes or the shopping), and think for yourself. (It’s not easy, you have to teach yourself how, but it’s fundamental to our species.)

Or think about these words from Goethe that open the recent salt report:

Knowing is not enough, we must apply.

Willing is not enough, we must do.

In other words, pay attention, and then, as the wildly talented Kevin Costner put it in a long-ago movie, “Let’s do some good!” Kidding. (But not really.)

See, this always happens. I get worked up before ten in the morning and now I want a hot dog.

If you liked this post, take a look at these links:

My past post on the “No Nitrites Added” Hoax.
Carri Thurman’s guest post on harvesting your own salt.
Mark Bitterman writes on how we should savor salt—it is an oldie but a goodie.
Also check out Mark’s salt store called The Meadow.

© 2013 Michael Ruhlman. Photo © 2013 Donna Turner Ruhlman. All rights reserved.

 

Hot à la Minute Granola

Morning granola. Photo by Donna Turner Ruhlman.

Just last week handed in the revised manuscript of the new book, considerably fatter than expected, still have manuscript afterbirth to contend with, and thus have lazily failed to whip up my typical monster batch of granola, which starts the morning off rightly, oats and nuts and dried fruit, plus some yogurt to enliven the gut bacteria. But wanting it nonetheless, I’ve now gotten into the habit of toasting some nuts in a small pan, adding a little butter, then some oats, stirring to toast the oats further, than adding milk to cover, bring to a simmer, serve with honey and yogurt, and it’s all so satisfying and quick I’m disinclined to make cold granola again. It was 39˚F this morning, though, so maybe when it warms up, I’ll change my mind.

Much to do today, including consider all those enormously helpful suggestions from you readers last week (thanks!), so off to the business of the day, fortified by the below.

I measure by the literal handful or by sight, but for those who like to see actual quantities, here you go.

A La Minute Granola

1/4 cup slivered almonds
1/4 cup chopped walnuts
1 tablespoon butter
1/2 cup rolled oats
1/2 cup milk
5 or 6 dried cherries or cranberries
2 tablespoons plain yogurt
1 tablespoon honey


Toss the nuts in a pan over high heat and add the butter. Swirl everything around in the pan until the nuts are cooked and the butter is about to brown. Add the oats and stir to toast them.
Add the dried fruit and enough milk to cover, allow it to come to a simmer, then serve with remaining milk (if you wish), yogurt, and honey. If this takes you more than 5 minutes, you’re not doing it right.

Serves 1

If you liked this post, take a look at these links:

My recent post on How to Cook Morels and my past post on making Apple Cinnamon Granola.


Use my All-Strain Reusable Straining Cloths to make your own yogurt at home.
Try making your own rhubarb jam from scratch this spring.
Homemade muesli is another great breakfast item to make at home for your pantry.

© 2013 Michael Ruhlman. Photo © 2013 Donna Turner Ruhlman. All rights reserved.

Friday Cocktail Hour: Key Sunrise

Key Sunrise, Goddammit. Photo by Donna Turner Ruhlman

So my oldest and dearest pal, Lester, feeling a bit fidgety several Fridays ago, texted to coax me off work early. I had cooking to do so I said, “Come over. I’ll make us some Clover Clubs while I finish prep.” After imbibing, I recalled the savvy note from Danny Guess of Fly Bar & Restaurant and video “host” of the iBook 25 Classic Cocktails, that if you add applejack brandy, you have a cocktail called a Pink Lady (all of which were covered in this post). Having finished our drinks and with more egg white on hand, I made us a second, this time a Pink Lady.

Killer cocktail, but such an unfortunate name! This is something you will never hear me utter: “Barkeep, I’ll have a Pink Lady, please.” Can you imagine James Bond ordering a Pink Lady? I can’t imagine Clarence the angel ordering one. I can’t even imagine Donna ordering one.

I’m hoping to fix the problem here by altering the lemon juice to Key lime juice, and calling it a Key Sunrise. Or perhaps maybe even a Key Sunrise, Goddammit.

The team that put together 25 Classic Cocktails notes that it has long been maligned as a “girlie drink.” It also notes that Jayne Mansfield was rumored to have lived on these things. But she was Jayne Mansfield, and Jayne could say whatever the fuck she wanted in a bar. Not me.

This uses an egg white for body. Always a pleasure, but I made a mess in front of Les trying to make two Clover Clubs in a single shaker (you’ve got to shake like mad to denature the egg white protein) and it wouldn’t all quite fit. What to do when making two or more egg-white cocktails? Blender, then ice, then strain into chilled coupes. (The Key limes were gnarly at the grocery store, so I got some Nellie and Joe’s Famous Key Lime Juice). And I am always delighted to pull out the little bottle of pomegranate syrup because it makes me think of the wonderful man who gave it to me as gift at Christmas.

Lester, if you’re reading this, perhaps I could interest you this evening in a Key Sunrise, Goddamit? Before shenanigans begin? Just don’t wear your blue seersucker suit or you’ll look like a Lily Pulitzer ad. A tuxedo, though, be lookin’ sharp with this cocktail.

Key Sunrise for Two

3 ounces/90 grams gin
1 ounce/30 grams applejack brandy
1.5 ounces/45 grams Key lime juice
1 ounce/30 grams simple syrup
1 ounce Mister Sugar pomegranate syrup or other quality grenadine
2 egg whites


Combine all of the ingredients in a blender and blend till frothy, 5 seconds or so.
Fill the blender with ice and swirl the contents till the drink is very cold.
Pour through a fine-mesh strainer into two chilled coupes.

If you liked this post, take a look at these links:

My recent cocktail posts: El Diablo, The Man About Town, and the Sour Cherry Daiquiri.
How to make your own grenadine syrup, by Portland, OR, mixologist Jeffrey Morgenthaler (though Anton’s, linked above, is superb).
The Hour: A Cocktail Manifesto, by Bernard DeVoto, a lovely meditation on that heavenly time of day.
Check out  The Aviary in Chicago; they just won the James Beard Award for outstanding bar program.

© 2013 Michael Ruhlman. Photo © 2013 Donna Turner Ruhlman. All rights reserved.

Twenty/Wood Spoon Giveaway(with butcher’s string attached: need your help!)

 

I’m giving away a personalized Twenty and two awesome Spankettes in return for your ideas. Photo by Donna Turner Ruhlman.

Short version: I ask you, cherished reader, what book would you like me to write next?

Complete version, or here’s what happened Thursday at Bar Boulud, my favorite culinary landing pad when touching down in NYC. I was there to meet with my editor, Michael Sand, of Little, Brown, which will be publishing The Book of Schmaltz in August, and in the spring, my innovative exploration of the kitchen’s most versatile ingredient. These were the known factors when I decided to hook up with this venerable publisher.

This, too, was known: I would also write four shorter, single-subject cookbooks. And this was the main topic as Sand and I munched through salads and jambon beurre and a taste of boudins noir et blanc (exquisite, all). What should those books be?

Ruhlman Singles will be about one-third the length of a traditional cookbook. Like The Book of Schmaltz: Love Song to a Forgotten Fat, they will comprise 20 or so recipes, but recipes that might be short master classes on a specific idea and technique within that broader subject. In the Single for Roast, for instance, there would be a high-heat roast technique and recipe, a low, slow roast technique and recipe, a pan roast, etc., and it would explore all the finesse points, the techniques that take a dish from good to aaaawesome, recipes that gave my prose room to spread out, in a format that would allow photos of each dish and as many process shots as we feel needed. (Can’t tell you how many of you have thanked me, or Donna and me rather, for making you feel comfortable in the kitchen because of the process shots.)

The world doesn’t need more recipes, it needs more technique, and home cooks need more confidence and encouragement in the kitchen. (Because you’re not too stupid to cook, even though Kraft wants you to think you are.)

Sand and I mulled: should they be basic technique books, like roast? Or ones more suited to the ambitious home cook, like sous vide or fermentation (cooking with bugs!), or cooking with actual bugs, grasshoppers, and whatnot?! (As that’s Andrew Zimmern territory, I’ll probably stay out of the latter.)

Then Sand said: “Why don’t you ask your readers. What do they want?”

Well? I’d love to hear from you! I have a list of ten or so ideas already. But take a moment to tell me: if you could choose one subject for me to write and think about, to cook through and photograph, what would it be? As an enticement, I’m giving away to one of you, chosen by randomizer on Thursday, a signed and personalized copy of Ruhlman’s Twenty: Twenty Techniques, 100 Recipes, a Cook’s Manifesto, and two—yes TWO!—Spankettes, the middle-sized wooden spoon that is one of my most cherished and valuable tools in the kitchen. While the winner has to be chosen at random and live in the U.S. (postage issue, sorry Canada, England, Australia, India!), if I write about what you wanted me to write about, I will be eager to acknowledge and thank you by name (if you wish) in the book.

So, I ask you, with deep thanks for even clicking on this page, tell me, what should the next book be? I shall return to Sand today the revised manuscript on the world’s most versatile culinary ingredient, and photography will wrap up soon. What should I write about next?

If you liked this post, take a look at these links:

Cook your own food. Eat what you want. Think for yourself.
My recent posts on How to Cook Morels and the Final Word on Battle of the Spoons.
Mac Dalton and I have created not only killer wood spoons, but a number of unique kitchen tools—full catalogue here.
This coconut tres leches cake recipe from CHOW is pretty awesome.
The LA Times introduces us to the cocktail called the American Poet.

© 2013 Michael Ruhlman. Photo © 2013 Donna Turner Ruhlman. All rights reserved.

Carbonara

 

Carbonara. Photo by Donna Turner Ruhlman.

Michael just got back from an eventful James Beard Awards weekend in New York City, so today’s scheduled post has been delayed until tomorrow. So, I was looking back at the archives and I decided to rediscover his reflection on carbonara, his favorite pasta dish. Not only is carbonara a great pasta dish, but it is an essential staple dish. I like that Michael mentions using cured mangalista belly instead of common bacon—that addition elevates carbonara to a different level.

(And Michael wanted me to remind people there’s still a chance to join a relatively intimate phone conversation today at noon Eastern time set up by Michael’s publisher for those who preorder Schmaltz by 11:55 today and email the receipt to littlebrown@hbgusa.com or to him directly at michael@ruhlman.com, to talk about schmaltz or cooking or to ask him questions. The original announcement is here.)

—Emilia Juocys

Originally published on April 19, 2008

After posting a gorgeous fatty piece of cured mangalitsa belly I thought I should say how it first went to use. The other day I asked Donna to have lunch—one of the true pleasures of working from home. The house is clean and doesn’t thrum with kid energy, but most important, we’re not exhausted as we would be if we waited till the end of the day, so we can actually talk to one another about things that matter to us, reflectively and leisurely. I don’t want to spend more than 20 minutes or so actually cooking—a spinach salad with lardons, warm bacon fat and shallot dressing with a poached egg, or the above carbonara, which Donna clicked off before we sat down (she’d been shooting custards for me all morning so she was all set up). Carbonara is perhaps my favorite pasta, yet another variation of the bacon-and-eggs pairing, the simpler the better—don’t be snobby about the bacon cut (“Guanciale is the ONLY kind we use,” etc.—any good smoked bacon is excellent) and keep the frills like peas out of it. I think the only truly critical point is that you must use freshly grated reggiano. The fat is the pleasure in this mangalitsa bacon, so I wanted to use it all, tossing the strips of belly and all the rendered fat with the hot pasta, pouring the cream-yolk mixture over the hot pasta, which lightly cooks the sauce, tossing in some freshly grated reggiano, and finishing with chopped flat-leaf parsley. Serve it with a crusty baguette and a big zinfandel. Any couples out there with kids, I cannot recommend highly enough having lunch with your partner, in your home, in the middle of the week, on a regular basis.

 

If you liked this post, take a look at these links:

My past pasta post on making agnolotti.
Learn more about the Mangalitsa or the wooly pig.
Pigstock TC is the place to be in October 2013.

© 2013 Michael Ruhlman. Photo © 2013 Donna Turner Ruhlman. All rights reserved.

Friday Cocktail Hour: El Diablo

El Diablo is the perfect answer this weekend. Photo by Donna Turner Ruhlman.

Cinco de Mayo is Sunday. How many of you know what it celebrates or why? Shaw Lash is one of the key cooks and brains in the Rick Bayless Chicago operations, places I really admire. Last year she wrote why, having grown up in Texas and later lived in Mexico, the Cinco de Mayo madness drives her mad. She wants you to know what it means and asks should we celebrate it at all. Her short answer: It’s a celebration of being Mexican. And it’s a brilliant American marketing gimmick.

Shaw Lash is one of those aware people I admire, so when my able cohort Emilia suggested a tequila cocktail, I emailed Shaw. Shaw suggested a Margarita primer. There’s an extensive discussion of all drink issues in Rick and wife Deann’s book Frontera: Margaritas, Guacamoles and Snacks (Shaw developed and tested all the recipes). If you want in-depth info and recipes, go there, it’s outstanding. But I’ve already posted on the classic Margarita (a drink to be revered), and Fridays are not “in-depth” days for me, with primers and what not.

Shaw said one of her faves in the book is the El Diablo.

Bingo! This is superlative cocktail. You’ve got to like ginger beer, though. Donna doesn’t. I’m a Dark & Stormy devotee, I’ll happily imbibe vodka in a Moscow Mule, and I love the El Diablo: good tequila, sweetness from the crème de cassis, balanced by the lime juice, and finished with bubbly ginger beer. It’s a refreshing Friday cocktail. The following is an easier variation of what is in the book, which calls for a homemade ginger beer syrup—I urge you to buy the book for the real thing. But right now it’s Friday. And I want a cocktail, so I’ve improvised (with Shaw’s approval).

The El Diablo

2 ounces reposado tequila (100% blue agave, preferably)
juice of ½ a lime
a tablespoon or 2 (½ to 1 ounce) crème de cassis, or to taste (it’s the main sweet in the drink)
ginger beer (spicy and also sweet)
a 2-inch strip of lime zest, removed with a vegetable peeler


Combine the tequila, lime juice, and crème de cassis in a large lowball glass. Fill with ice and top with ginger beer (equal parts drink and ginger beer is optimal).
Twist the strip of lime zest to release the aromatic oils and slip it into the cocktail as a lovely lady would slip into a pool.

Yield: 1 cocktail

My pal Peter is having folks over tomorrow, so here’s the recipe from the book for lots of folks. Peter, just make it with 16 oz. tequila, 16 oz. ginger beer, no sparkling water, keep the rest the same. Wish I were with you.

Party Pitcher Size

1½ cups 100% blue agave reposado tequila
¾ cup fresh lime juice
½ cup crème de cassis
1 cup ginger beer
8 ounces sparkling water
8 cups ice
8 2-inch strips of lime zest, removed with a vegetable peeler


In a pitcher, combine the tequila, lime juice, crème de cassis, and ginger beer. Stir well, cover, and refrigerate until chilled, about 2 hours.
Pour a scant ½ cup of the tequila mixture into 8 10-ounce rocks glasses. Top each with 1 ounce of sparking water and 1 cup of ice.
Garnish with a strip of lime zest and serve to your guests.

Yield: 8 cocktails

If you liked this post, take a look at these links:

My recent cocktail posts: the Man About Town, Donna Paloma, and the Sour Cherry Daiquiri.
Become a member of the Tequila Interchange Project.
Mathilde and Jules Theuriet are two other brands of cassis.
A classic kir is a cocktail composed of cassis and white wine, while the kir royale is made with champagne.

© 2013 Michael Ruhlman. Photo © 2013 Donna Turner Ruhlman. All rights reserved.

How to Cook Morels

Fresh ramps and the coolest edible to grow out of the ground, morel mushrooms.
Photo by Donna Turner Ruhlman.

No surer sign of spring, this lovely photo above. And when wild edibles grow together they’re often great cooked together. Last week for one of the final shots for the new book I ordered fresh morels from a fabulous company in northern Michigan called Earthy Delights (thanks, Chip and Ed!). I love the food of Michigan—the stone fruit, the eau de vie made from their skin, the tart cherries, the mushrooms. Same as the Great Lakes territories of Ohio, which booms with ramps right now. We get so many wild ramps that Jonathon Sawyer, who turned 13 today, spiritually (good luck at the Beards, JS, kick those Chicago bastards’ asses!), used them as centerpieces that diners could take home when he chefed at Bar Cento before opening his Greenhouse Tavern.

What did Donna shoot for the new book? An omelet with creamy morel and ramp sauce. Kind of a no-brainer. So no-brainer, in fact, that I woke to find the wonderful chef and writer David Tanis also pairing ramps and eggs (no morels). Ramps are a bit harsh on the palate raw, but give them some heat and they’re an elegant flavor somewhere between garlic and leek. The Times shows them whole, but I find them tough and stringy this way. I thinly slice the whites and chiffonade or mince the tops.

Having an excess of morels, I asked my friend Lee if she wanted some (she was preparing a b-day dinner for my oldest pal, Lester). She said she loved morels but wouldn’t know what to do with them. Hence this post. Because they’re so good, and so easy.

Morels, the coolest food to raise out of the earth, “Gift of God” food that I can sometimes find in woods not far from my house (thanks, JD!), when the lilacs bloom, are one of those foods that are good just as they are. The less you do, the better.

But you do have to cook them. My mushroom guru, Connie Green, who forages in the mountainous woods of the Napa Valley, says they contain a poisonous compound (I love dangerous food!) “similar to rocket fuel,” in her words. It blows off quickly in the gentlest of heat (Connie doesn’t even sweep the aroma her way when cooking). But don’t ever add raw morels to salads or the like. (In the years since I wrote about her in The French Laundry Cookbook, Connie has opened an online store selling wild food, called The Wine Forest, and she’s published an excellent book called The Wild Table.)

So while you must cook morels, you don’t want to hammer them with heat as you do white button mushrooms. A little butter, a little shallot or sliced ramp, halved morels, a little cream just to reduce and coat, and that’s it. Put them in a small bowl and eat, just to enjoy the pleasure of the mushroom itself. If you want it to look dramatic, add another spring wonder, the fava bean. If you want more, put it on some scrambled eggs (this will be lunch for me and Donna today). For something hardier, I made a bechamel sauce, enriched with Emmantaler cheese for some pasta and topped it with abundant morels.

To make a creamy morel sauce:

Heat 2 tablespoons of butter in a pan over medium heat, sauté some minced shallot or sliced ramp whites, add the morels, and cook just till heated through. Add about a quarter inch or half inch of cream to the pan, simmer and reduce it by half, adding salt and pepper to taste. Toss in minced ramp leaves if you have them. Serve as is and eat very slowly. Or spoon over an equal quantity of gently scrambled eggs. Very gently scrambled, as described in Ruhlman’s Twenty; almost no one scrambles eggs right these days.

And that’s it. Happy May Day to all!

If you liked this post, take a look at these links:

My past posts on the amazing morel and farm transparency v. farm secrecy.
Earthy Delights has fresh and dried morels.
So does Connie: watch her in this superb video.
Morels.com is a popular website linking all those who love and seek this luscious mushroom.
Here are some more morel recipes from Midwest Living.
Try making this ramp pizza from the Smitten Kitchen.

© 2013 Michael Ruhlman. Photo © 2013 Donna Turner Ruhlman. All rights reserved.

 

Chasing the Dream: Chef Patricia Tracey(with Salsa Verde)

Baked eggs with salsa verde. Photo by Patricia Tracey.

People call me a chef (even says so here). I’m not a chef. Ted Allen is not a chef (as if his round wood spoons didn’t say as much). Rachael Ray is not a chef. None of us ever said we were. (I have on occasion, claimed to be, but that was just to piss off Michael Symon, who is a chef, or was—now he’s a TV cook, entertainer, and successful restaurateur. I cooked at Sans Souci, a Marriot-owned restaurant, ages ago, but I wouldn’t last an hour on the line today.)

Terms matter. I say this because today’s guest poster, Patricia Tracey, is and remains solely a chef. Not a celeb chef like Symon or Bobby Flay (both of whom are superlative cooks, btw, another and more meaningful term). She’s a cook’s cook, a woman who cooks for a living because a professional kitchen is where she’s happiest. Jersey born, educated at Johnson & Wales, she’s cooked on the east coast, cooked at a Hyatt, continued to grow, opened restaurants for the highly respected Kimpton hotel group, which seems actually to care about its restaurants.

When my San Fran acquaintances, Scott Raymond and Rachel Luxemburg, asked me to have a look at her quest to open, at long last, her very own place, Myriad Gastro Pub, with the help of the crowd-funding site kickstarter.com, I donated (because I like to support professional cooks and entrepreneurs), then I asked her for a guest post.

As it turns out, Trish lost her mom, Joan, the same year I lost my beloved dad, both to cancer. She fell into a deep funk I know all too well, the kind where you wake up in the morning and think, “Shit. I’m awake again. Still fucking here.”

She has, at age 46, begun to feel the sunshine again, and has the spirit and gumption to give the grueling work of chef-restaurateur a go. Please watch her video (below, or here) and if you like it (and especially if you live in or travel often to SF), kick in a few bucks (it will make you feel happy, seriously). But first read about her salsa verde; it rocks.

What I asked her was, what does she like to cook for herself, what does a chef cook when he or she is not earning the daily bread or cleaning out the grease trap, or dealing with heating and cooling guy, or trying to figure out what to put on the menu since the fish delivery never showed?

Eggs, of course. I knew I liked this woman.

What This Chef Eats at Home!

by Trish Tracey

People often ask me, “What do you cook at home?” The quick answer from many chefs, myself included, is that we never cook at home because we are always working. While that answer may be popular, it’s not true.

The truth is that I do enjoy cooking when at home, whether it’s for a large holiday gathering, for small groups of friends and family, or even if it’s just for myself—which is what happens more often than not.

No matter the occasion, it’s not too difficult to make a quick and easy meal look and taste like a gourmet dish.

One of my favorite staples that I always try keep on hand is my own take on salsa verde, a simple, yet amazingly versatile, condiment that can elevate the flavor of many dishes.

My salsa verde is a blend of chopped Italian parsley, chopped capers, minced shallots, lemon zest, and extra-virgin olive oil. Depending on what the salsa verde is going with, I may add boquerones, Spanish-style anchovies marinated in lemon, or some type of complementary olive.

Though salsa verde can be added to any number of dishes, I do have my favorites. It can be drizzled over a tasty open-faced egg salad sandwich on rye toast, giving it big and bold flavor.

Want another easy, zesty breakfast/lunch/dinner idea? Simmer or bake eggs in a light marinara and then top with shaved Reggiano and salsa verde. Serve this over toasted or grilled sourdough bread or even luscious polenta.

Looking for something a little more substantial? Rub sliced garlic, fresh cracked black pepper, and a little paprika on a rib-eye before grilling. When it’s done, slather the steak with salsa verde and finish with a little flaky Maldon sea salt.

It goes equally well with a roasted hearty fish, laced with pimenton and lemon, or topping a beautifully roasted chicken.

Make a batch of this salsa verde and keep it on hand. You will not tire of it and it will make you look like a rock star in the kitchen when you turn a simple dish into something big and bold and made with love.

(Here’s my kickstarter video; if you like, visit kickstarter.com to donate; I hope to cook for you there one day soon. And thanks, Michael, for letting me share this!)

 

 

Marinara Baked Eggs with Salsa Verde

½ cup light marinara sauce (if you don’t have homemade, you can use Rao’s)
2 large eggs
Salt and fresh black pepper to taste
2 tablespoons shaved Parmesan cheese


Heat the marinara slowly over medium heat, in any small cast-iron or steel skillet that you would like to serve in. (You can also make this in any pan and slide it onto any pretty bowl or plate you like.)
When the sauce is warm, crack the eggs into the middle of the sauce and season with a sprinkle of salt and pepper. Shave Parmesan over the top.
For the stovetop method, cover with a lid and simmer on low for 3 to 5 minutes, depending on how well you like your yolks cooked.
To bake in the oven, leave uncovered and place in a 375°F/190°C oven for 3 to 5 minutes, depending on how well you like your yolks cooked.
While the eggs are cooking, toast or grill some hearty sourdough bread slices and butter.
Drizzle the baked eggs with salsa verde and serve with toast.

Mediterranean Salsa Verde

½ cup chopped Italian parsley
2 tablespoons chopped, drained capers
2 tablespoons lemon zest
1½ tablespoons finely minced shallots
¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil
¼ cup pure olive oil or other mild oil
1 teaspoon kosher salt
½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper


Mix all ingredients together and taste for seasoning.
It’s best to make it at least an hour before you need it so the flavors can develop. You can keep this stored in an airtight container in the refrigerator for a week or so and spoon it onto almost anything.
Enjoy!

Variations for the salsa verde:

Chopped boquerones or other anchovies
Minced garlic
Any type of chopped olives
Minced sundried tomatoes

If you liked this post, take a look at these links:

My recent posts: On Schmaltz and Digital Publishing and The Book of Schmaltz: The Hardcover Edition.
Don’t forget about our 20% off Dalton-Ruhlman Essentials for Mother’s Day.
Support new local businesses such as Honey Butter Fried Chicken or The Butcher & Baker.

© 2013 Michael Ruhlman. Photo © 2013 Donna Turner Ruhlman. All rights reserved.

Friday Cocktail Hour: The Man About Town

A rum Negroni, otherwise called a Man About Town. Photo by Donna Turner Ruhlman.

I pay for a service called SaneBox to deal with email overload, so much of it mass PR mail. Somehow a diligent soul, Sally Alfis of M Booth, who represents the company’s spirit clients, got though the barricades. Having seen my Friday cocktail hour posts, she asked if she could send me some premium hooch. I never turn down free premium hooch. Thus, the most excellent rum in the photo (it’s very good).

Surprisingly, though, she continues to read Friday posts and, following my hasty Negroni post (no link, Donna unhappy with photo), sent me a new cocktail made by Scott Fitzgerald (no, relation, though he does beat on, like all the rest of us boats) of the Mulberry Project in NYC.

What got me about Fitzgerald’s lovely cocktail was its variation on a personal fave, the Negroni (thus Sally’s clever suggestion—she gets Scott to create a rum drink featuring her client’s rum, then gets me to post on the drink; it’s all an incestuous little mingle, isn’t it?). But I loved the cocktail. First, I’m a sucker for variations on a theme (I wrote The Making of a Chef obsessively replaying these, specifically the 1955 recording, though I love the slow open of the 1981 version), and this, like the Boulevardier, is a Negroni variant. But! Not a simple swap-out of spirit for spirit like the Boulevardier (whiskey for gin), but rather a more thoughtful riff, this including three bitter elements, all of which I’m fond of.

By chance, @wisekaren alerted me this morning, that just yesterday seriouseats did a feature and slide-show on negroni variants in the city, which is excellent; though the beet negroni seems a tad ridiculous, I would rather have that than the Red Rooster variation, which is a Boulvardier (noted by seriouseats in the caption), not a Bourbon Negroni as they call it (I’ll lay odds they make an awesome vodka martini as well).

Without further adieu, with thanks to Madam Sally and Scott Fitzgerald, this week’s cocktail is the finely balanced Man About Town.

Cheers, and have a restorative weekend!

Man About Town

1.5 ounces good white rum (OK, Sally, Brugal 1888; I wouldn’t, and didn’t, turn it down.)
1 ounce sweet vermouth
0.75 ounce Campari
several dashes orange bitters
several dashes Angostura bitters
orange peel for garnish


Stir all ingredients in a mixing glass. Strain and serve in a frosty coupe.
Garnish with an orange twist.

If you liked this post, take a look at these links:

A few of my other rum-based cocktails: Key Lime Daiquiri, Between the Sheets, and the Dark and Stormy.
Try making your own rum at home.
Portside Distillery here in Cleveland makes various types of rums; and Cleveland Whiskey makes bourbon; small spirit companies are booming throughout the country.
Vermouth 101 is a site that educates us about this aperitif wine.

© 2013 Michael Ruhlman. Photo © 2013 Donna Turner Ruhlman. All rights reserved.

 

The Book of Schmaltz: The Hardcover Edition

The official cover of The Book of Schmaltz.

Begging everyone’s forgiveness for this promotion-oriented week—it just happened, I don’t plan anything. (For those hungering for food posts: cool tomato-water/sauce technique video, pretty Donna picture and my favorite veg to grill, or if in the mood for a food rant; and check back in for a brand new cocktail tomorrow, for The Hour.)

As promised, my Schmaltz app is no longer available and won’t be till sometime next year, but that is because my new, beautiful, full-color book THE BOOK OF SCHMALTZ: Love Song to a Forgotten Fat is coming soon to a bookstore/eTailer near you. The book will hit bookstores in August. It will be available in print and eBook formats.

While August might seem far away, I very much want you to pre-order it now (and dare I suggest that a printed copy of THE BOOK OF SCHMALTZ would be loved by all of your nondigital relatives (especially that bubbe who still adores you).

To encourage pre-orders, my publisher has come up with an intriguing suggestion that I agreed to: if you preorder the book by Sunday and send your receipt to my publisher at littlebrown@hbgusa.com, they will send you a dial-in code to an exclusive pre-orderers-only call that I will be doing with you on Monday, May 6, at noon Eastern Time, 9 a.m. Pacific. I’ll talk a little about schmaltz, but if you wish but we can talk about cooking generally and you can ask any cooking questions you’d like during an hour-long chat.

The first 100 people to send in their receipts will get an exclusive dial-in pin code and a signed bookplate. The next 100 people who send in their receipts will get a signed bookplate.

Though gentile to my core, with my schmaltz mentor, Lois “Queen of Schmaltz” Baron, I’m eager to spread my love of schmaltz far and wide!

Pre-order the hardcover of The Book of Schmaltz at the following venues:

Pre-order from IndieBound.

Pre-order from Amazon or Amazon Kindle version.

Pre-order from Barnes & Noble.

Pre-order ebook from iTunes.

Long live schmaltz! Cook for your family and friends!

If you liked this post, check out these other links:

Looking for more books on Jewish cuisine? Check out Arthur Schwartz’s Jewish Home Cooking: Yiddish Recipes Revisited.
Chabad.org has an entire forum dedicated to kosher dishes.
My recent post and promo for Mother’s Day—dads, don’t forget to plan! (Moms who cook, sneak this link Red Ryder–style into husband’s emailbox.)

© 2013 Michael Ruhlman. Photo © 2013 Donna Turner Ruhlman. All rights reserved.