Author: playingwithfireandwaterofficial

rue

Rue 022

Rue is the eccentric old aunt of the herb family. When you lean in to greet her with a hug, she kisses you full on the mouth, leaving you shocked by her intensity. Your attempts at small talk are met with Shakespearean wit and exotic tales of far away and long ago in the ancient language of terpenoids: lime, pine, and cumin. You may want to feel sorry for poor aunt Rue, thinking her archaic and forgotten, but she is no shrinking violet or wallflower. She stands proud and erect, erudite in her role as protector and purger, reveling in her former days of bitter/sweet glory, waiting to be rediscovered.

In the gardens of my childhood, my mother planted herbs among the flowers. The border that flanked the entrance to our house contained perennials as well as parsley, chives, and thyme for cooking, and chamomile and lemon balm for tea. I never understood the purpose of the strange-smelling plant that she referred to as herba ruta and why it held the place of honor by the door. I never thought to ask.
My mother encouraged my interest in gardening and one year I was allowed to plant in the flower and herb border. I decided to dig up the Rue and move it to the far end of the garden in order to showcase the peony in its spot. The next day, the peony had been moved and the Rue was back in its original position. Again, I didn't ask.
When I moved into my first house, my mother showed up with something wrapped in wet newspaper. I wondered why she was bringing me a fish. I was puzzled when she revealed a freshly-dug Rue plant. This time, I asked.
According to my mother, and Portuguese folklore, herba ruta planted by a house's entrance will keep evil spirits from crossing the threshold.
So far, so good…

eugenol

Bananaclove 2

                    banana
                    greek yogurt
                    chestnut honey
                    hopfen-weisse veil
                    clove crisps
                    dianthus petals
                    rue leaves

When work takes up the bulk of the hours in a day, the consequence is that there is a trail of neglect left in it’s wake. The important things, like relationships with family and friends are what eat at me. The incidentals, like sleep and food, I learn to do without.
Breakfast, however, is not optional…I rely on it to fuel these long days. Most times, I grab a container of yogurt and a banana and I’m good to go. When I’m feeling a little more decadent, I’ll layer them in a fancy glass with chopped nuts and a drizzle of chestnut honey. I really like this combination…it satisfies body and soul.

I can only operate at 2 speeds when working 16 hour days: high and off. I seldom allow myself breaks simply because it throws off my momentum and I lose focus. When I’m ready to shut off at the end of the day, it’s a slow unwinding; a down-shifting of gears. A glass of wine eases the transition. With the onset of seasonably hot weather, a cold beer is my decompressor of choice.
Unlike wine, I’m not too fussy about what beer I drink. I only require that it be cold and alcoholic. I get lost trying to sort through the increasing variety of artisan-crafted beers from microbreweries, and end up reaching for the familiar Corona, even though it tastes like cat piss. I’m not indifferent to beer, it’s just that I haven’t found the time or opportunity to educate myself on it’s fine points.
Recently, an opportunity presented itself in an impromptu tasting led by an enthusiastic bartender who allowed me to steer the conversation with my observations. It turns out that I have potential as a hophead. Of the 6 craft beers that I sampled, the one that stood out was a Brooklyner-Schneider Hopfen-Weisse. I was immediately enamoured of it’s banana and clove flavor. It was like drinking liquid banana bread. It made my thoughts turn to breakfast.

It’s not that I’m in the habit of drinking beer for breakfast (the “hair of the dog” days are behind me, I can only hope), but the correlation between the flavor profiles of the Hopfen-Weisse and my typical morning fare made sense. Harold McGee confirms the link between the aromas of bananas and cloves in this excerpt from “On Food and Cooking“:
   “Bananas develop a meltingly smooth consistency, and a
distinctive aroma due primarily to amyl acetate and other esters, and
green, floral, and clove (eugenol) notes“.

I have a long-standing fascination with warm spices and cloves in particular, that stems from childhood memories and was later deepened from reading historical accounts of  the origins of spice trade.  One story told of an ancient Chinese Emperor whose lust for spice drove him mad. Sometimes, when I catch a whiff of  cloves, I can conjure up an image of him standing in his barge, dressed in regal robes, surrounded by his fragrant loot, his teeth stained and his breath redolent with the scent of cloves.

Bananaclove 037

Dianthus, or carnations, smell like cloves because they share many of the same aroma compounds, Eugenol being the prominent one. The flavor of cloves can also be detected in rue, an esoteric herb, as well as in honey, and beer. Bananas, beer, honey and yogurt contain Butyric Acid, the aroma and flavor of cheese. Together, the flavor of these ingredients play harmoniously like the notes in a chord.

And, yes, I did eat this for breakfast…it was the ultimate indulgence.

Banana. Yogurt. Honey. Cloves. Beer. It may not be a breakfast for champions, but it is a winning combination. 

benzaldehyde

Benzaldehyde 2

                            peach leaf blancmange
                            peach whipped gelatin
                            coffee fluid gel
                            sour cherry
                            toasted mahlab
                            coffee oil

Benzaldehyde is the essence of bitter almonds (Prunus Amygdalus var. Amara), which unlike sweet almonds (Prunus Amygdalus var. Dulcis) contain hydrogen cyanide, a potentially lethal toxin. It is a fragrant volatile molecule and a by-product of cyanide production. Pure almond extract is pure Benzaldehyde, without the cyanide. It is used in the making of marzipan, maraschino cherries, amaretto liqueur, and amaretti biscuits and occurs naturally in the fruits, leaves, flowers and bark of stone fruits. It is the eminent aroma compound in the complex flavor of peaches, apricots, and cherries. The highest concentrations can be found in the kernels of these fruits, which must be heated in order to destroy the toxin. Benzaldehyde is also present in beer (216 ppm), apple juice (294 ppm), roasted coffee (2008 ppm), tomato (8501 ppm), and white bread (40903 ppm). [ppm=parts per million]
 
The leaves of the peach tree, when very young, taste of Benzaldehyde. As they mature, they take on an unpleasant acrid pungency. It took me several growing seasons to figure this out. This year, I got it right.
The only reason that I know this is because I have a habit of tasting plants as they grow–not just the familiar parts– all parts: flowers, leaves, roots, bark. I do this out of curiosity, not hunger, though it feeds my sense of discovery.
All plants are fair game–be they weeds, shrubs, flowers, or trees–if they are not harmful and taste good, then they have culinary potential. I rely on my knowledge of plants to steer me away from the toxic ones but I sometimes think that if I should die an untimely death, it could be attributed to having put something in my mouth that had no business being there in the first place. I could think of worse ways to go.

I also wanted to tell you about the fun I'm having making molds from silicone, but let me just say… get some. Trust me.

flavor

 taste + smell = flavor

Taste is often confused with flavor, but it is only a part of the
equation. In fact, it is only a small part. Taste is what we can
identify with the nerve cells
in our tongues and mouths and is limited to sweet, sour, salty, bitter,
umami, and (arguably) fat. Add to that the sensations of temperature
and texture and you will still only have up to 30% of what we can
perceive as flavor.

The rest of the equation lies in our olfactory receptors, which are
located at the top of our nasal cavity, just below the brain. When odor
molecules pass through this area, they find their correlating receptor.
Once this union is complete, information is sent to the olfactory bulb that is located in the central nervous system.

Of all the senses, smell is the most primal. Animals rely on it to survive; it is how they mate and find food. In humans, it is the most evocative of the senses, acting as a memory-trigger (one whiff of Chanel no.5 and I am 8 years old again, transported to a classroom where my teacher liberally doused herself with the perfume). Through memory and association, smell communicates pleasure (freshly baked bread, clean laundry, roses and lilacs, coffee in the morning) and signals danger (spoiled food, burning, natural gas–which has no scent, but is added by the utility companies to alert us).

Our sense of smell is unique and complex. Scent is detected through volatile odor molecules (also known as odorants and aroma compounds). These need to be volatile, or
have the ability to evaporate, in order to be transported into the
nasal cavity and be sorted by the receptors. This is why non-volatile
substances like metal or glass have no scent. Professor Linda Buck, who won the Nobel Prize for Medicine along with Professor Richard Axel for their work in uncovering the secrets of the sense of smell, stated that "The discriminatory power of the olfactory system is immense. Even closely related molecules have different smells." and believes that humans can differentiate between up to 10,000 different odors.Coffee flavor

Aroma compounds significantly contribute to how we detect and identify flavor. They are present in all foods in varying combinations and concentrations. These compounds are chemical in nature and are classified by functional groups. For instance, the principle aroma compound in cinnamon is an Aldehyde identified as Cinnamaldehyde. The aroma of coffee is very complex and is made up of over 800 of these compounds, as illustrated in the flavor wheel. To view a comprehensive list of classified aroma compounds click here or go to the link on the right sidebar.

Even before food enters our mouth, we begin to perceive flavor. It starts with our eyes, which transmit visual cues to our brain. The statement "we eat with our eyes" emphasizes the importance of eye-appeal and presentation. We are programmed to believe that if food looks good, then it must taste good. Of course, if it doesn't, we are confused and let down. But when it does, our instincts are confirmed and the pleasure is amplified. Next, our sense of smell is engaged as aromas wafting from the food enter our nasal passages and are sorted and identified by olfactory receptors, sending a preview to the brain. Our sense of touch is stimulated as food enters our mouth and we experience temperature and texture. If the food is crisp, then our sense of hearing comes into play. The act of chewing and breaking down food
activates our sense of taste and releases more compounds, which are communicated
to our brains and completes the multi-sensory experience known as flavor.

Aroma Compounds

Alcohols

Aldehydes

Amines

Esters

Ethers

Ketones

Lactones

Terpenes

Thiols

Miscellaneous compounds

oxalis

In the early spring, after months of looking at the frozen earthOxalis 004
through a window, I am grateful for anything green and living that sprouts from the newly thawed ground, especially if it can be brought into the kitchen. Even the weeds capture my attention; mild and tender dandelions that have now turned coarse and savagely bitter, succulent little sprigs of purslane, and the prolific oxalis that I pay tribute to now, but by midsummer will become the bane of my existence.

Oxalis, commonly known as wood sorrel or sour grass, is a genus of over 800 species. It belongs to the family. Oxalidaceae, which includes the fruits bilimbi and carambola. The name comes from the Greek word for sour (oxys), which refers to the Oxalic acid that provides this plant with it's characteristic tart, lemony bite. The entire plant is edible; from the blossoms to the stems and leaves, right down to the tuberous root. In South America and the Andes, the tubers of the species O. Tuberosa are called oca and are consumed like potatoes.

While the consumption of oxalis is historical (sailors used to chew it to prevent scurvy, lending it the name scurvy plant), it is not until recently that it has made it's way into fine dining. I believe this trend can be attributed to modern Scandinavian chefs, particularly chef Rene Redzepi of NOMA in Copenhagen, who features it prominently in his New Nordic Cuisine.

 The good thing about oxalis is that you don't have to go far to find it. It is an aggressive invader with spring-loaded seed pods that have the abilitiy to launch seeds as far as 10 feet away, and will quickly take over any available patch of dirt. Oxalis proliferates all over the US and many other countries, growing in lawns, garden beds, and along roadsides. I've even seen them sprouting up from cracks in sidewalks in NYC and Seattle. This is only good news from a culinary viewpoint…gardeners have a different take on it and view oxalis as a noxious weed. The less invasive varieties are being cultivated as ornamental plants that come in an array of colors and leaf sizes. I've found some striking cultivars at a local nursery that I've planted in the rock garden and intend to keep a close eye on their spreading habits.
Oxalis 010

scallop almondine

Scallopgreenalmond 011

scallop seared in brown butter
green almonds, four ways
oxalis leaves and blossoms
browned butter rocks and powder
lemon cells

May is perhaps the most exciting month in terms of fleeting seasonal treats. Among these are ramps, morels, peas and rhubarb, but it the relationship between soft-shelled crabs and green almonds that I have been waiting to explore.

When soft-shelled crabs begin to appear, I always buy a few extra for experimentation. My intentions are good, but even then, I know it's futile, that they are all destined for two standard preparations: Spider Rolls and Almondine. When time allows, Spider Rolls–one of my favorite sushi–are satisfying with their contrast of flavors and textures. For a quick fix, I make Soft-Shelled Crab Almondine. I must have a flavor receptor that is particularly fond of sweet seafood bathed in brown butter and balanced with citrus and herbs because I can't get enough of that nutty, buttery, toasty, bright and lemony goodness.

In attempting to translate this dish with green almonds, I realized that their crunchiness would compete with that of the soft-shelled crabs and throw the textural balance off. Sea scallops provide the same sweet, succulent flesh in a softer texture. The hulls of the green almonds were split, to liberate the undeveloped nuts that were sauteed in brown butter along with some of the slivered hulls and slivered, mature almonds. More of the hulls were slivered and half of these were quickly pickled in lemon juice and the other half went into salted ice water. These varying flavors and textures were combined and seasoned with fresh lemon juice and sea salt. The flavor of brown butter was extended with soft, melting powder made with Tapioca Maltodextrin and rocks made from the larger clumps of the powder that were microwaved at full power for 30 seconds. The dry crunch of the rocks provided the missing texture of the fried crab shell. Final touches were the lemon cells, which are easier to extract when the lemon segments are dehydrated, and the leaves and blossoms of Oxalis, or wood sorrel, that provide a sour, herbal note that reinforces the lemon.

This dish satisfies me on a level beyond flavor receptors. It's ephemeralness reminds me to explore and enjoy what is good and available at any given moment…the elusive here and now. Carpe amygdalum viridis!

green almonds

Greenalmond 023

These are almonds, interrupted. They are harvested while the almond is still in it's embryonic stage, translucent and gelatinous, with a thin, ivory shell. At this stage, the hull is crisp and dense like an under-ripe peach (also belonging to the Prunus family). Later, the hull will turn hard and leathery to protect the developing nut. The flavor is subtle, but distinctly green–grassy, herbaceous–that of chlorophyll, with a refreshing tang.

The first time that I came across green almonds was last spring at an ethnic market that I frequent. I bought a small bag to sample. I ate them all as they do in the Middle East; simply washed and dipped in salt. Their taste reminded me of green olives, and I thought that I would try curing them in a brine. When I went back for more, they were gone–their short season over.

I returned to the market a few weeks ago and was told that they were expecting a shipment "any day now". I had almost given up hope, when I spotted one lone bag, lying in wait on an otherwise empty shelf. I became aware that others had spotted it, too, but I got there first. They were coming home with me…I had plans for them.

whipped gelatin

              Whipped gelatin ps                      

                                 whipped pernod tomato
                                 fennel poached in parmesan water
 

One of the biggest challenges about catering is getting the quantities right. Running out of food is unforgivable, but throwing out excessive food is painful. Over the years, I have come to terms with this aspect, but it still disturbs me every time. When I recently rescued a batch of tomato aspic from it's fate with the bin, it wasn't because of my conscience. I just wanted to play.

I had made the aspic from plum tomatoes that were slowly roasted in the oven to concentrate their flavor and amplify their sweetness. Relieved of their skins, they were simmered in tomato consomme with Pernod until soft and melting. This intensely flavored mixture was then pureed, passed through a chinois several times, and set with 3% gelatin. The finely diced aspic was served as part of a first course with roasted fennel, eggplant, dried olives and smoked chevre. As I was dicing the aspic, I began to wonder about gelatin's shear-thinning capabilities and for once, I was glad to see leftovers.

Back home, I learned a few things about shearing gelatin:

  • it does not form a fluid gel…a soft gel? yes…fluid? no.
  • whipping it from it's gelled state in a Kitchenaid is a lot of fun to watch, but the product is no more useful than the unfluid gel.
  • whipping it from it's ungelled state over a bowl of ice water allows air to be whipped in and trapped as it chills and sets. The result is a light, creamy textured gel that holds it shape, yet is soft and melting on the palate…mind blowing? hardly…useful? definitely.