Ruth Reichl's Blog, page 6

Things I Love: Head on Shrimp

 

Finding head-on shrimp is increasingly difficult - and that's a shame. 

Why do you want the heads on?  Because they make this gorgeous red stock (the color comes from the fat in their heads):

This is what the stock looks like when it's cooking:

And here is how you make it:

Stock

2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

heads and shells of �� pound medium shrimp

1 medium onion, coarsely chopped

1 large carrot, peeled, cut into 1-inch pieces

�� cup chopped flat-leaf parsley

�� cup wine

4 cups water

 

Remove the heads and shells from the shrimp and put them in separate bowls. Heat 2 tablespoons of olive oil, add the shrimp heads, onion, carrot, and parsley, and cook over medium heat, covered for about 15 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add the shrimp shells, �� cup of white wine, and 4 cups of water and simmer very gently, uncovered for about an hour and a half to make an intense stock (it will turn bright orange from the fat in the shrimp heads). Strain the liquid into a bowl and set aside. There will be about 1 �� cups stock. 

What do you do with it?  It will improve almost anything you're making with fish.  As part of the liquid in paella, it's superb.  If you're making a seafood pasta, cook the pasta just al dente and finish it, briefly, in the stock.  It's the start of a lovely bisque....

Where did I find these wonderful, sustainable (and expensive)  sun shrimp?  You can order them by mail - or if you're lucky enough to live in the Berkshires, you can order them from Rubiner's every week. 

 

 

 

Italy in America, Circa 1951

Some early issues of Gourmet were absolutely stellar. This one, April 1951, was one of those issues. Yesterday we looked at a few Chinese recipes.  Today I'm adding a few recipes from an article on produce in the Veneto by a writer named Dorothy Giles.  I haven't been able to find any information on Ms. Giles, who wrote this wonderful little aside on American produce of the time:

"Throughout the United States, even in good fruit-growing regions, fruits are like children brought up by an emotionally unstable mother.  Either they early give up the struggle for security and grow neurotic themselves, or they develop a tough hide and a self protective lack of personality. "

In Italy, she said, things were quite different.  She went on to extol peaches, pears, stracchino cheese, fresh ricotta - and this lovely-looking vegetable tart.

 

 
 

Made the torta last night, which reminded me that in the fifties Gourmet didn't have a test kitchen. This recipe needs a LOT of help.  Basil, for one thing, which was unavailable in 1951.  (Angelo Pelligrini didn't publish the first American recipe for pesto until the middle of the decade.) I'd forgotten that eggplant slices were such serious assassins of olive oil; they simply soaked it up.  Next time I'll salt them before frying, which draws out the water and makes them less absorbent.

You also need really great tomatoes (which I lacked),  a little garlic would be good, and unless you've got real mozzarella, use some other cheese like a fresh teleme in place of those supermarket slices that turn to rubber. And next time, I'll use half and half instead of milk, and sprinkle the top with grated parmesan. 

I'll let you know how that turns out.  Meanwhile, should you be interested in another vintage ad, here's your chance to help select Miss Rheingold, 1952.

 

From China with Love, Circa 1951

You don't think about Americans eating - much less cooking - sophisticated Chinese fare in the fifties. So I was truly surprised to find recipes for an entire Chinese banquet in this issue - Bird's Nest Consomme, Shark's Fin, Pheasant, Bamboo Shoots, Wined Kinghwa Ham.  And yes, there were even a few recipes for tofu. And here they are...

I made the tofu last night (reduced the oil to a single tablespoon, added more garlic, ginger and scallions) and served it over rice. It was a perfect little meal for a hot night. Fresh and simple, like eating clouds.   

But there are, in fact, many fascinating recipes in this issue - for French, Italian and even German dishes.  I'll be posting a few more in the days to come. 

More Vintage Fritos Recipes

Last week's vintage Fritos recipes were such a hit that I went trolling through old issues of Gourmet, looking for more.  Here, from the September 1951 issue, are a couple of gems.

 

Tomorrow, a few truly surprising Chinese recipes from that issue.  They're remarkable for the time - although I think I'll skip the recipes for bird's nest and shark's fin. 

Remember Pousse Cafes?

I certainly do. When I was a cocktail waitress, conventioneers loved to come into the lounge I worked in and order pousse cafes all around.  This was a nightmare for the bartender, who had to make the things - but more of a nightmare for the waitress, who had to carry them, very carefully, across the dining room, with a tableful of drunks hoping that you'd trip.  They tasted terrible too - sticky sweet.

But they were very pretty.  And I never knew that this particular contraption even existed:

Vintage Dal, Lasagna and a Great Old Grill

It's September 1960, and Gourmet has a very good piece about growing up in South America - complete with recipes for empanadas that sound very good. But that recipe also has a "Chilean paella" - pictured on the cover - which is kind of a mess of a recipe. All you need to see are those canned olive-embellished artichoke hearts to know you don't want to try this one.

But a few recipes in the issue sound great - and are rather avant garde for the time. Consider this recipe for Dal (although you might want to think twice about using chili powder, and toss in a few freshly ground Indian spices instead).

Then there's this recipe, which stunned me.  Homemade pasta? In 1960?

 

And just for fun, an ad. This cast-iron, all-purpose smoker, grill and broiler apparently had a rotisserie inside.  Looks fantastic. If this appeals to you, there's a vintage model for sale on Ebay for a mere $850.

Very Likable Lamb

Romney Sheep

Went into The Meat Market in Great Barrington the other day, in search of inspiration, and spied a very lean-looking leg of lamb.

"It's a Romney," said the butcher.  "We don't get them very often."

"What's different about that breed?" I wondered.

Sheep, he explained, are divided into two categories: wool sheep and meat sheep.  Romney, apparently, are the exception. They have excellent wool - and tasty meat.

Not sure about the wool part, but I can attest that this was the most delicious lamb I've ever cooked. The meat is very mild, without a hint of that gaminess so many people find objectionable.  

I love lamb. I especially love leg of lamb for dinner parties because it's the most forgiving cut of meat- delicious no matter how much (or little) you cook it.  Unlike beef, which is, in my opinion, hardly worth eating unless it's rare, lamb is delicious in every state from rare to well done.  You can put it in the oven with no worries. I always cook lamb with rosemary and garlic, so it makes the house fantastically fragrant as it cooks. 

Now that I've discovered Romney lamb, I've got a problem; when am I ever going to find more?

Two (Old) Recipes and One (Hilarious) Ad

It's July 1960, but this couple doesn't seem to realize they've left the fifties behind.  Another interesting note: nearly all the ads in this issue of Gourmet are for liquor of some sort.

Little surprise then, that the recipes tend to be rather boozy.  Here are two:

 

A Little Taste of 1960

 The fifties were over; it was the first summer of the new decade, and what were New Yorkers dreaming of?  An all-inclusive trip to Hawaii, which could be had, airfare and hotel included, for less than $800.  How times change!

To prepare you for that trip, the editors kindly threw in a recipe for the  kind of Chinese shrimp toast you might encounter in Waikiki.  (Gourmet of the era seemed quite enamored of MSG, but I'd skip it.)

Not your cup of tea?  How about some savory summer pancakes? This all-American recipe sounds quite intriguing; I've never seen one like it. 

But maybe you'd prefer a drink?  Go outside, snip some herbs, and make yourself a potent Bloody Mary. (There's that MSG again....)

 

How to Store Basil

If you're tired of opening your refrigerator and finding that the basil you bought two days ago has wilted into a sludgy black mess, take a look at the basil above.  I bought it at the farmers market three weeks ago.

"Treat it like flowers," said the young woman I bought my bunch from.  "Just put it in a jar of water."

"And put the jar in the refrigerator, right?" That's how I've always stored it.

She shook her head.  "Nope. Just put it on the counter and leave it there.  You'll be surprised how long it lasts."

For weeks now, I've been surprised.  The flavor? Still powerful, still green, still pesto-perfect.