tortas de aceite

My friend L. is a talented baker. Her impossibly thin Palmiers with fleur de sel started an obsession.

After the first day of working together, she said that it was nice to work with someone normal. I wasn't sure if that was a good thing. She assured me that it was. After Palmiers, she never referred to me as normal again.

Although our styles are different, we bonded through a solidarity of gender and occupation. I thought that we were tight and that she understood my propensity for all things light and crispy, sweet and salty.

Why, for the love of God, did she introduce me to these?

If you haven't already tried these, do yourself a favor and avoid them like the plague. They are EVIL.

parsley root

Parsley root (Petroselinum crispum), also known as Hamburg root parsley, is a cultivar of flat leaf parsley that forms a bulbous taproot, much like a carrot or parsnip.

It belongs to the family Apiaceae, or Umbelliferae, a large family of more than 3,000 species known for their aromatic leaves and include other edibles: anise, fennel, angelica, dill, caraway, cumin, cilantro, celery, chervil, lovage, carrots, and parsnips. Umbellifers can be recognized by their flowers that form in clusters that resemble mini umbrellas.

In the garden, Umbellifers are useful as companion plants as their essential oils attract beneficial insects. When planted near tomatoes, which are susceptible to tomato hornworms, they attract parasitic wasps that prey upon the destructive hornworms.

Parsley root is native to the Mediterranean and used extensively throughout Central Europe. In the US, it remains uncommon and hard to find.

In appearance, parsley root closely resembles parsnips, though they are lighter in color and denser in texture. Their flavor is less sweet than parsnips and references the clean, refreshing taste of the leaves.

tahoon cress

I returned from ICC laden with gifts. The best one– a brainload of ideas and information– I continue to unwrap and savor a little each day.

There were also tangible gifts:

A big glossy book containing bios, interviews and recipes of all of the presenters.

A gift package from Heston Blumenthal. In true theatrical form, they were hidden under the seats. The velum envelope contained two packets that were to tie in with his presentation of The Perfect Christmas Dinner, inspired by the gifts of the Magi. The first was a Listerine strip flavored with frankincense and was immediately savored. The second was a newborn baby-scented communion wafer. Despite my fascination with babies, this just felt wrong to put in my mouth.

A flat of micro sprouts from Koppert Cress containing Affilla (peashoots), Mustard, purple and green Shiso, and the unfamiliar Tahoon.

The flavor of Tahoon took me aback. I was not expecting the deep, complexity of wood, humus, and nuts (it's said to taste like beech nuts), trailed by a sting of onion. There are defined elements of earth and fire with aromas that evoke freshly-tilled earth, baked by the sun, along with roasted tree bark. I don't know if this even sounds good, but it is. My taste buds say umami, but I could find no documentation on this.

What I did find is that Tahoon (Toona sinensis) is a tree, native to eastern and southestern Asia, where the young leaves and shoots are enjoyed as an aromatic vegetable. It is more commonly known as Chinese Toon or Chinese Mahoghany.

As I munch on Tahoon, I am visited by a flight of dishes: caramelized onion flan with foie, pomegranate, and Tahoon; roasted potato ice cream, bacon dust, hamachi,and Tahoon oil; Tahoon-infused beets with curried chicken terrine; a dessert of pear, chestnuts, and chocolate–haunted by Tahoon.

My quickly dwindling supply led me to find a source for seeds. I can now grow a steady supply of sprouts through the winter. Maybe I'll even let some grow into plants that I can transplant into the garden come spring. Maybe, in a few years, I'll have a Tahoon tree of my own. But even as I sit here, typing and munching, thinking about steak, mushrooms, corn and Tahoon, I doubt that they'll ever make it past sprouts.

longan

Longan (Dimocarpus Longan) is a close relative of the lychee and rambutan. Longan, literally, is dragon's eye, referring to the dark seed that shows through the translucent flesh. The hard seed, when cooked, has a nutty flavor.

The flesh of the longan has a juicy texture reminiscent of a grape, with a mildy sweet, floral flavor. It is not as sweet as the lychee, making it a popular fruit for savory preparations in the East, where it is widely grown.

The delicate flavor of longan pairs nicely with sake

sweet and salty longan

1 quart peeled and pitted longans

2 cups water

1 cup sugar

1 cup sake

1/4 cup kosher salt

Pack longans into a clean, sterilized jars. Bring the remaining ingredients to a boil and pour over longans, leaving a 1/2" headspace at top of jars. Seal, and refrigerate. Use after 2 weeks.

blueberry cheese

ser·en·dip·i·ty n.

The faculty of making fortunate discoveries by accident.
The fact or occurrence of such discoveries.
An instance of making such a discovery.

Blueberry juice, when extracted through a juicer, forms large, soft curds that quickly begin to oxidize.

Smaller and firmer curds form after a brief cooking to set the color.

An overnight rest in a cheesecloth-lined sieve drains excess moisture and leaves a firm mass that can be molded or sliced.

benzaldehyde

                          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.

green almonds

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.

silicone

As a pastry chef, I’ve relied on molds to give shape to my desserts. I have a large collection which vary in size and shape from the very simple to the ornate and complex. Within the walls of my house, they cover shelves, fill entire cupboards, and lie waiting patiently in boxes. I cannot pick favorites (how can I…many have never been used), but I can tell you that nowadays, the ones that I use most often are made of silicone.

Silicone has revolutionized the way the I bake. Silpats are unparalleled in their ability to release anything that comes in contact with them. The flexibility of silicone molds allow me to form products which are perfectly smooth or deeply cut. The outcropping of new forms and shapes that I find on the market has had me already teetering on the precipice of possibilities. Finding a product that allows me to make my own molds may have just pushed me over the edge.

I already have a collection of objects set aside to replicate in silicone, but I’m curious…what would you mold?

three for thai

(top) ngo om– Rice Paddy Herb (Limnophilia aromatica)- grown only in rice paddys, this herb which is in the snapdragon family, will not be a good candidate for my garden. Pity…I love its bright lemony cucumber flavor and tiny lavender flowers. Although I have used this herb to punctuate a thai cucumber salad and shrimp spring rolls, I am intrigued by its potential in sweet preparations.

(center) rau ram– Vietnamese Coriander (Polygonumm odoratum) – this herb belongs to the buckwheat family and its flavor is that of cilantro, basil and mint combined. It is commonly used throughout southeast asia, where it is sometimes referred to as "hot mint" because of its peppery bite. It stands up well to rich meats such as beef and pork. I have located seeds which I intend to grow in a confined area as this one is an aggressive invader.

(bottom) bai dtoey- Pandan (Pandanus amaryllifolius)- this leaf from the screwpine family possesses the distinct aroma of cooked basmati rice. I find the scent exotic and irresistible– deep, toasty and nutty with tones of sweet grass and hay. It is a wildly popular flavoring in Thailand where it is the equivalent of vanilla and used to flavor sweets, rice, and wrapped around chunks of chicken, then fried. These leaves freeze very well (which is the state that I purchased them in) and an interesting (and useful) observation is that they retain their color when cooked and even when exposed to acid.

miracle fruit

feeling bitter?

Miracle fruit (Sideroxylon dulcificum) contain an active glycoprotein molecule that binds to taste buds, causing sour or bitter foods that are consumed 30 minutes to 2 hours after chewing the berries to taste sweet.

Click here for an account of one persons experience.
Or here to order some.
If you live in NYC or SF, click here if you would like to go to a Miracle fruit party.