Rooftop Gourmet

 Ribs are something that can be prepared in hundreds of different ways, and depending on where in the United States you are, conversation about ribs can get pretty sticky. Carolina, St. Louis, Kansas City, Texas and many other BBQ hotspots are so adamant about how ribs “should” be prepared and served, that the pit masters could argue more than a Red Sox and Yankee fan.

 For the most part, American ribs are all smoked for a long period of time (which is a sign of authentic Barbecue)… but the question is, what type of wood chips should be used. Should you use a dry rub or a wet marinade? Wet sauce or no sauce at all? Vinegar based sauce or mustard based? Sweet sauce or spicy sauce? The variables are endless. I took the authentic Barbecue out of the equation because I don’t have a smoker and I wanted to create something a little bit different.

What American Q Masters don’t realize is that other countries cook just as much pork ribs as they do, but in different ways. Sweet and sticky pork ribs are a staple in Chinese cuisine, and the Italians would NEVER discard any part of a pig let alone mask the natural pork flavor by smoking it.

The only real requirement for cooking pork ribs is that they must be cooked slowly over low heat in order to achieve that ‘fall off the bone” tenderness. I had nothing to do on Sunday afternoon, so I picked up a few racks and got started on a dry rub for my slow roasted, Tuscan style pork ribs.

I snipped a bushel of fresh sage and rosemary from my new herb garden that was overflowing on my deck. The bright green leaves were healthy and extremely aromatic. I chopped up the fresh herbs and added some whole fennel seeds, salt, freshly cracked black pepper, dried chili flakes, coriander, brown sugar, and tons of freshly minced garlic.

After coating the racks with extra virgin olive oil I gave them a thorough rub down with the seasoning I created and tossed them into the fridge to marinate. After about two hours, I took them out and brought them to room temperature.

Slow and low is the phrase that describes how these slabs of pork cook, because right off the bat, the meat is too tough to even chew. The low, steady temperature and hours of cooking time slowly breaks down the fibrous meat and leaves you with pork that melts in your mouth. I set my oven to 220 degrees, threw the racks in and forgot about them for five hours (well… it was was hard to completely forget about them with the smell of roasting garlic, fresh herbs, and dripping pork fat permeating the kitchen)!

In the meantime, I multi-tasked prepping my side dishes and flipping back and forth between the Celtics and Red Sox. I fired up the grill and tossed a bowl full of red and yellow bell peppers onto the smoking grates.

 I let the peppers char on all sides before returning them to the bowl and covering them with plastic wrap. Don’t worry if they look burnt… they are burnt, but when you carefully peel away the skin, you’re left with a juicy, tender, filet of roasted pepper. Make sure you cover the charred peppers right away so that they steam in the bowl to finish cooking and to let some of the smoky goodness seep into the flesh of the veggie. I sliced them into thin strips and tossed them with some extra virgin olive oil and a squirt of honey. I made a split second decision before the ribs went in, and realized that I should probably cook the potatoes first because no one wants to eat potatoes that were roasted at 220 degrees.

 A Tuscan feast wouldn’t be a Tuscan feast without a nice bottle of  red wine from the heart of Italy. The 2006 Gaja Ca’ Marcanda Promis is a “Super Tuscan”, which began as a marketing term but loosely refers to all Tuscan wines that blend their classic Sangiovese with other grapes such as Cabernet, Merlot, and Syrah.

 This wine is made by Angelo Gaja, a pioneer winemaker who is famous for his wines from Piedmont, but somewhat recently bought land in Tuscany to grow some different grapes. He made the Promis by blending 55% Merlot, 35% Syrah, and 10% Sangiovese. The elegant, and sexy Merlot blended with the Old World style Sangiovese is a great match, especially with a hefty chunk of Syrah to enhance the wine’s backbone. The wine is bright red, and full bodied with flavors of cherries, raspberries, leather, and grilled herbs (a classic Tuscan characteristic and perfect with the ribs). I opened it an hour before serving to let it breath and allow the flavors to develop. When the ribs came out of the oven, I sliced them in between the bones and scattered them in a pan.

They were delicious but needed something else. I decided to fire them under the broiler in a puddle of aged Sherry vinegar. The open flames crisped the outside of the ribs and the vinegar sizzled away. After a few minutes, they were perfect. The rich vinegar gave the savory ribs that extra pop of acidity and tang that they needed. Served atop a mound of roasted potatoes and shallots, and next to a pile of sweet,roasted peppers, these Tuscan style ribs were amazing. The meat was hanging off of the bones, and seemed to dissolve on your tongue. Flavors of the rich herbs, with the nutty fennel, sweet brown sugar, and spicy chili flakes made my lips tingle. After rifling through about a rack and half, I took a sip of the Super Tuscan. It seemed quite strange drinking such an elegant wine while holding my Riedel stemware in a hand covered in pork juice. I still went through about a roll of paper towels and needed a shower after dinner, but it was totally worth it.

I always get excited when fresh corn starts to appear at the market because I know that summer is approaching quickly. Despite the gorgeous weather yesterday, I still had a craving for something warm and comforting. I grabbed a few ears of fresh corn and peeled back an inch of the husk to reveal the golden nuggets that were nice and plump even though it’s quite early for corn season.

I packed them up and set home to make a quick corn chowder. I started off by slicing the kernels off of the cob and boiling the cobs in milk.

This is essentially the same idea as making a stock. All of the corn flavor inside the cobs gets extracted and flavors the milk. After about an hour of simmering away, the milk tasted just like fresh corn.

In my chowder pot, I started off by rendering the fat out of some house cured pancetta until I was left with some crispy matchsticks of delicious pork belly.

I sweated some diced yellow onion, and tossed in the corn kernels and cubes of Yukon Gold potatoes before covering everything with the fresh corn flavored milk. I just let let it simmer away until the potatoes were cooked all the way through.

Lots of times, a flaky white fish is used in a fish chowder so I figured that a nice thick piece of Cod would be a perfect compliment to the corn chowder. I pan roasted it which creates a crispy crust on the top but leaves the inside moist and flaky. One touch from a fork and the Cod splits away into natural medallions that seem to melt on your tongue.

 The flavor was distinct yet delicate. I finished the dish with a sprinkle of fresh chives and a drizzle of really good Extra Virgin Olive Oil. I opened a bottle of 2007 Dumol Russian River Valley Chardonnay, which is pretty rare for me to do because I am not a huge domestic Chardonnay fan.

I cannot get over how most of them are overly oaked, almost to the point that I have to chew the wine it’s so thick and creamy. In my opinion, most producers go so far over the top with their domestic Chardonnays, that they completely over power any dish you put infront of it. I figured I’d give it another shot, and thankfully I did because the Dumol was actually quite balanced and food friendly. There was just the right amount of oak, fruit, and acidity that made it very pleasing even though it was a very big wine.

 There is lots of stone fruits and lemongrass flavors up front followed but a rich finish with hints of nutmeg and allspice. The flavor of buttered brioche toast lingers on your palate for minutes after you swallow. It might have been a little bit too powerful for the dainty Cod, but all the less worked great with the rich chowder. Maybe… just maybe I’m starting to enjoy domestic Chardonnay.

With my fiance in Florida, relaxing on the beach during school vacation, I am home alone and forced to cook for myself. Cooking for one is a difficult thing task for someone like me who typically makes enough food to feed and entire baseball team when it’s just the two of us eating. I was determined to stay on budget and finish the meal with no leftovers… even if it meant cleaning my second plate as a late night snack.

 The East Broadway Stop & Shop has been closed all week for renovations (hopefully meaningful ones), so I ventured into the South End to a small market that I had heard about. It’s called Foodie’s Urban Market, and it definitely lived up to the hype. Fresh produce, a separate butcher section, and aisles of gourmet ingredients make this market my new quick stop location.

 It certainly beats the old Stop and Shop where it takes 45 minutesto dig through a mountain of yellow onions before I find one without a mushy hole in it. I walked into this place with no ideas in mind, and wound up in the same place I started an hour later. With nothing accomplished, and nothing in my basket I had to make a split second decision before I got kicked out for loitering. I ended up leaving with an 8oz. Filet Mignon, 2 shallots, and a block of English Stilton. Stilton is an extremely strong smelling, cow’s milk blue cheese from England.

 It’s distinctive blue veins are created by piercing the crust with stainless steel needles that allows air into the core of the wheel. A recent survey proves that eating English Stilton within one hour of sleep causes 75% of men and 85% of women to experience “odd and vivid” dreams. I don’t know what that means and I’m not sure that I want to, but there wasn’t enough cheese left to consume after dinner anyway.

I came home and started making a cheese sauce for my steak. I started by making a light roux (equal parts butter and flour whisked over moderate heat), which acts as a binder to thicken my sauce.

 I poured in some heavy cream and cubes of the gorgeous blue cheese, which slowly dissolved into a thick, gurgling cream sauce. I finished it with a healthy pinch of freshly cracked black peppercorns and a sprinkle of chopped parsley. I love steak, and Filet is probably my least favorite cut of meat. I am a flavor junkie, and the marbling in a Filet Mignon just doesn’t cut it for me.

 I usually go for a ribeye for its fat that weaves itself throughout the meat and then melts into the flesh when it hits the grill. Tonight was different because I was making an insanely rich sauce, packed with flavor, that it was okay to substitute flavor for tenderness. I seasoned the Filet liberally and seared it in a smoking hot pan before finishing it in the oven.

The outside of the meat formed a nice black pepper crust, leaving the center pink and juicy. During the last couple minutes of cooking, I threw a pad of butter on top of the Filet and let it melt into the flesh (I couldn’t resist… why do you think steakhouse steaks taste better than when you make them at home??). For some additional texture, I topped the steak with a heaping mound of fried shallots before spooning the pungent, creamy Stilton sauce all over the plate. I sat at the barstool in my kitchen and watched Sunday Night Baseball while devouring this, and sipping a 2006 Cameron Hughes Lot 74 Cabernet Sauvignon.

All of the Cabernet grapes in this wine come from the Oak Knoll District in Napa, which tends to be a cooler climate region than most Cabernet growing zones. The result is more of a Bordeaux meets California style… a clash between old and new world. It definitely wasn’t your typical fruit bomb, powerful California Cab. It was loaded with cassis and espresso flavors that balanced beautifully with the tannins. In my opinion, this is a wine that structurally could hold up for quite some time in a cellar. It was a great match for the Filet, because it was quite elegant and sexy. A grilled ribeye might have overpowered this wine. After the game I went to bed, and had a dream that I was having a heart attack. It was extremely vivid, but not quite so odd…. it must have been the Stilton.

Whenever I eat lobster, I order it steamed, throw on a bib, roll up my sleeves, and dig in. It was a beautiful day Wednesday and I had the day off so I decided to walk down to Yankee Lobster and pick up a few monsters. I had the whole day to work with, so I wanted to experiment with a couple different preparations.

 Yankee Lobster is located right on the dock and has the freshest seafood imaginable. I literally walked right into the back door and pulled two 3lb. bugs out of the water and brought them back to the condo.

There are many different ways to kill a lobster and some people think that certain ways are more humane than others. You can throw them right into a pot of boiling water, put them in the freezer first, or just take your chef’s knife to its head. Because I wanted to cook the tail separately from the claws, I had an interesting afternoon to say the least.

I was forced to rip the lobsters in half with my bare hands while they were still alive in order to separate the tail from the rest of the body. This wouldn’t have been so bad if both separated parts stopped moving but the tail was jumping and curling around my wrist for up to half an hour afterwards.

It was like a scene from a creepy alien movie. The nerves inside the tail and the body were on the fritz, which made it extremely difficult to remove the shell, but after some wrestling around, I managed to yield a perfectly intact, raw lobster tail.

 I simply boiled the claws and removed the meat for my chilled lobster salad. Every remaining part, including the head was then thrown into a giant pot of water with onion, celery, parsley, peppercorns, lemons, and bay leaf to boil away for lobster stock.

 I rolled the lobster tails in paper thin slices of Prosciutto di San Daniele…gourmet pigs in a blanket.

 I gently seared one side, while I basted the rest of the tail in clarified butter until it was cooked throughout.

This was a tedious process but well worth it because the lobster meat was not overcooked. After it rested, I sliced it thin and served it atop a silky smooth puree of turnips laced with fresh vanilla bean. The combination of the luscious tail meat and salty Prosciutto, with the creamy and sweet turnip puree was heavenly.

 The underlying flavor of fresh vanilla bean brought the dish to a whole new level.

On the right side of the plate, I made a cold lobster claw meat salad with fresh fava beans, tangerine supremes, and mache lettuce rosettes. To lighten it up in contrast to its partner to the left, I opted to leave the mayonnaise out of the salad.

 Instead I tossed it with lemon juice and a heaping tablespoon of Dijon mustard. The balance between light and cold and rich and warm on the same plate was really cool and it displayed the versatility of the sea creature. It felt great to use essentially every part of the lobster for something. After 8 hours on the stovetop, the lobster stock made roughly three quarts to use at a later date.

The wine pairing for this dish was tough due to the clashing styles, but I ended up opening the 2008 Le Paradou Viognier. It was forwardly aromatic right from the start. Tons of orange peel, flowers, and exotic herbs on the nose. The wine is actually a lot bigger in style from what I anticipated and had a slightly creamy finish to it, which paired well with the Prosciutto wrapped tail. The wine had great acidity, and flavors of peach pit and tangerine zest.

In my opinion, the wine worked better with the cold salad stylistically but was still pleasant to drink with the warm dish. Viognier in general is a great white wine for Spring, whether it’s served with food or drank on its own. If you want to re-create this meal at home, trust me…. don’t get too attached to the lobsters before you start.

I love learning about other cultures and cuisines from around the world. Something about new and exotic flavor combinations fascinates me. Who would have thought that combining cinnamon and dried chilies tastes good, or carrots and ginger? I stumbled upon a new region of the world to learn about because of a hidden gem known as the Milford Spice Company.

 They are based out of Michigan but offer free shipping. They have the largest selection of spices I have ever seen. You name it… they have it.

Everything from Celtic Grey Sea Salt to Traditional Japanese Shichimi Spice; and they’re all delivered fresh to your door. I ordered some authentic Ethiopian Berber Spice Rub which is a staple in northern African cuisine.

Berber can come in a paste form as well but I opted for the dried version. There are many different varieties but long story short, it is a mix of dried chilies, paprika, garlic, ginger, all spice, cinnamon, cardamom, coriander, cloves, and fenugreek.

 A giant hodge podge of dried spices that all come together in harmony to create a sweet and spicy rub for meats and vegetables (just not pork because Ethiopians do not eat pork for religious reasons). I decided to sprinkle this magical dust all over a tiny squab that I roasted in the oven.

The brick red Berber spice adhered to the bird uniformly while I let it marinate in the fridge for a few hours ahead of time while I prepared the side dishes.

 The combination of carrots and fresh ginger is something that you’ll find in Ethiopia a lot.

I decided to make a carrot-ginger chutney which is slightly sweet, to serve with the squab to balance out some of the heat. A chutney is basically a spice and vegetable mixture that is rendered down almost to a wet paste, similar to an Italian caponata. I sauteed some cubed carrots and fresh ginger root, with some shallots and garlic until it was soft. Then I added some honey, golden raisins, and white wine vinegar before I covered it with vegetable stock and let it simmer away.

After about 45 minutes, the stock completely evaporated and what was left was a paste-like, sweet and sour chutney that still had a little bit of texture to it.

I also made some cumin scented, black sticky rice to serve as the base for my bird. I started the squab off in a screaming hot, 500 degree oven to create a crispy crust and then lowered the temperature to 375 degrees to finish off the cooking evenly. The aromas in my kitchen from the roasted spices were unlike anything I had ever smelled before. It was like roasted Christmas cinnamon sticks inside of a Tennesee BBQ pit.

Due to the heat in the Berber spice, I paired this meal with an off-dry Riesling from Washington State. The grapes from Charles Smith’s 2009 Kung Fu Girl Riesling are grown on extremely rocky soil in the Columbia Valley which gives it some rich minerality and powerful aromas of peaches and spring flowers. The wine is fresh and acidic with layered flavors of apricots, Asian pear, and a refreshing lime finish. At 12.5% alcohol, this Riesling had the perfect amount of sweetness to balance the Berber spiced squab.

The succulent, rich dark meat from the bird was so moist, and the crispy skin was infused with so many different flavors. I tamed some of the dried chilies with a dollop of plain yogurt and cumin seeds. Although I tried to replicate an authentic Ethiopian dish, I didn’t follow their customs as to how I ate it. Ethiopians eat with their hands and I opted to stick to the silverware.