April 30, 2011

Goofy Galettes

Growing up, crepes were a big breakfast treat. Being Americans, we made them with white flour, eggs, milk, and a touch of vanilla. Better suited for fruit fillings or a smear of jam than the savory variety a creperie will serve for lunch or dinner. Also, we used a skillet rather than a crepe griddle; so they were fairly small by comparison to the ones served singly as an entree.

After going gluten-free, we learned about the galette, a traditional Breton crepe made with buckwheat flour.  The nutty flavor provides an excellent foundation for a wide range of savory fillings, and a decent contrast to fruit fillings.

The first time I tried cooking them, they came out very respectable, and tasty. But I set the recipe aside to re-try and touch up before posting. This time around (Easter Brunch), I couldn't find the workable recipe, and grabbed one quickly off the internet.  The tricky part? Properly converting the grams of buckwheat to an American measure. Tricky mainly because each source we checked provided a somewhat different answer. As a result, they started too thin, then became too thick when I over-adjusted for the flour, then approached right after adding more milk. All the fiddling threw the delicate egg-flour-liquid (calls for both warm water and milk, plus melted butter), and required extra whisking, without proper resting time before cooking.  As a result, they came out of the skillet a bit thick and a touch dry, with a tendency to crack at the fold lines after filling. So the next time, I plan to start with a pre-translated and tested recipe in all-American measures, and try it one more time before posting.

On the up-side, the overall taste with the fillings (broiled asparagus, caramelized onions, sauteed chard, sausages, a fresh apple compote, lemon curd, and sauteed mushrooms - plus hollandaise) was quite pleasing.  Once the skillet tempered properly, not a one was wasted.

April 29, 2011

Roy's at Ko'Olina

Oahu has three of the small chain of Roy's restaurants. The two in the heaviest tourist zones, Honolulu and Waikiki, handle very heavy traffic and reputedly suffer an occasional miss under the strain.  Out on the leeward side of the island, however, the Ko'Olina Roy's is known to be spot-on with every single dish.
Butterfish, with bok choy and asparagus

Perfect presentation and perfectly prepared fish were certainly our experience tonight. Half of our party of six ordered the butterfish, which was indeed delightful. For just a few dollars more, however, the Hawaiian fusion prix fixe menu was a great deal. A tidy little appetizer sampler plate included one short rib, one spring roll, and two slices of slightly seared ahi with a creamy wasabi sauce. For the entree, I chose the macadamia nut-crusted shutome * (broad-billed swordfish), served with asparagus and new potatoes, seated over two savory sauces to complement the flavors of fish and vegetables. And for dessert, the melting hot chocolate souffle. A decadent meal, but not over the top.

Monterey Bay's Seafood Watch classifies Hawaiian broad-billed swordfish as a "Best Choice" West Coast fish. On Oahu, it also counts as local.

April 24, 2011

Spring Chickens

Ever wonder why eggs show up in so many religious and cultural events of the springtime?

If you ask a Christian the link between Easter and eggs, there is usually a short story about new life, re-birth, etc. On the seder plate, an egg appears with a rather different symbology. And in many varied places, people color them or make egg-rich dishes for spring festivals.

The answer, from a food perspective, lies not with the egg but the chicken. When they live normal, non-factory-farmed lives, chickens slow down production as the days shorten. Eggs in winter become scarce for  locavores - less protein, no custards, no egg breads, etc. And then spring arrives! The chickens celebrate, waking earlier, scratching in the new grass, and laying again. If you live near chickens all year, it's a real joy to behold, and a boon to the table.

April 23, 2011

Feast for Freedom

As a gentile, my understanding of Passover has come along bit by bit, nurtured mainly at the table of Jewish friends. Of course there is much more to the 8-day holy week; but the seder dinner is the part non-Jews are recruited to participate in (more than invited, less than roped into). And for good reason - sharing a long, reflective meal of laughter, teaching and a few tears is a beautiful and powerful way to welcome those who would be your allies to a greater understanding of your experience.

The meal is highly ritualized, with a set structure and symbols, prayers and readings and playful traditions to engage children (also helpful to the adult goyim like me, who may need what they are hearing broken down to the level a child can understand, especially the first time around). But it's also a home holiday; so everyone's family traditions color and shape the interpretation and execution.  I've been to an "express seder," shortened and sped up to accommodate the attention span and bedtime of small children, and also to the five-hour meal of legend, where the wine flows, the songs and readings and prayers stretch out, and someone falls asleep at the table.  Everyone's got their own stories of memorable seders, whether about the food, the people or the contemporary events tied into that year's teachings.

One Purim, a dear friend explained that almost all Jewish holidays boil down to nine words - "They tried to kill us; they failed; let's eat." Food as a celebration of life? No wonder I feel at home - no translation needed for what it feels like to share gratitude at a common table. But the seder in particular touches me, wherever I share it, wherever it falls on the express-to-epic scale, because it specifically addresses gratitude for freedom.  And solidarity for those who cannot enjoy it today, whether they are struggling for civil rights in the US or democracy in Yemen, Syria, Libya and Egypt. The tales of enslavement, surviving plagues, being refugees and finally establishing a free home in a new land may be over 2,000 years old, but the truths about humans, their needs, and their resilience are timeless. My favorite seders made me cry as well as laugh, recognizing how lucky I am and what responsibilities that implies.  My favorite seders challenge me to be ally, and to think about how to express that role today.

April 14, 2011

Cup of Brown Joy

Chap-hop: a musical form derived from hip-hop and practiced mainly by genteel British men.

While some rappers are deliberately, gloriously steampunk (go, Professor Elemental!), others are not (Mr. B the Gentleman Rhymer mixes 1930's style elements with modern ones).

Since steampunk tickles me, and tea delights me, it should come as no surprise that "Cup of Brown Joy" is my favorite chap-hop music video (though Fighting Trousers runs a close second).



When I say "herbal," you say "No thanks." Clever, clever. Lovely.

April 3, 2011

Ice Cream Sundae

Google's doodle today celebrates the "119th anniversary of the first documented ice cream sundae." Since everything Google does is news, the web is abuzz with sites critiquing whether the subject is worth a doodle and also whether it reflects the right point in ice cream history.

As for me, I'm pleased to have a reminder that I won a bet recently, wagering for '1 real hot fudge sundae.' Google conveniently illustrated a "real" sundae - glass dish, two scoops of different-flavored ice cream, hot fudge, nuts, fruit, and whipped cream. The background pattern evokes an old-fashioned parlor, with table service and menus that describe a variety of fanciful creations (Miss D's Divine Decadence, etc) as well as the build-your-own instructions.

It's hard to find a cafe that provides such an elegant level of service, these days. Can I make something just as luscious at home? Of course. But then I'd have pints of ice cream, whipping cream, and fudge sauce hanging around. The best self-defense in that case is to invite the correct number of friends (carefully calculated to avoid leftovers) over for a sundae-making party. Who knows? That may be how the famous concoction first reached a restaurant menu.