Rooftop Gourmet

Unless you’re an avid hunter with excellent aim, or know a great butcher, it can be hard to get your hands on some quality game meat. Luckily, our friend Leigh’s father is a certified, wildlife ass-kicker, who goes on hunting trips armed with a massive bow and arrow. He snipes all sorts of delicious animals such as elk, caribu, deer, and goose just to name a few. Last Sunday, Leigh was generous enough to empty out her freezer for us while we watched the big futbol game.

We had plenty of time to plan the menu in between all the scoring going on between Spain and Netherlands. It was beautiful out, so we moved the party up to the roofdeck and opened a few bottles of crisp white wine to enjoy with our first course… Sliced venison summer sausage with extra sharp cheddar and three peppercorn mustard.

 As soon as the deer was killed, it was professionally butchered, ground up with pork fat filler, and piped into natural casings. It had the appearance of Genoa Salami but the flavor was definitely different. There was an intriguing gamey flavor that came out in the aftertaste, which was perfect with the velvety pork fat and the tangy cheese. This was some serious charcuterie!

After a few craft brews and a Spain victory, I opened some celebratory Spanish Godello to go with our next bird course. This was the first animal of the evening that I have yet to try. Breasts were removed from a goose, corned by boiling in salted water for a long period of time, and them dowsed in peppercorns before getting smoked. This is how pastrami is made.

The goose pastrami looked like two, bright red, clenched fists that were dipped in black pepper. We sliced them very thinly to reveal the bright purple, flesh and a wonderful, smoky aroma. We made a huge platter of goose pastrami crostini, topped with a chiffonade of shallots and sage, followed by a healthy drizzle of black walnut balsamic reduction.

The sweet, vinegar complimented the smoky meat nicely as I wolfed down a handful of these gamey treats. It brought me back to the days of sitting Indian-style in my living room, clenching my bright orange weapon, and picking off virtual ducks, which is obviously as close as I’ve come to hunting real birds.

Even my friend Tommy, whom I had to get “back up” food for, chomped away at the goose while pretending to line up a sea gull that swooped over our heads. The sun started to set along the skyline and it was time to start cooking the main course. This is what I had been waiting for all day. The giant elk that is getting pummeled by Rambo in the attached picture is what went into our burgers.

 Elk is not only the largest species of deer, but also one of the largest mammals found in North America. It was shot by Leigh’s dad, butchered, ground immediately to ensure freshness.

You know you’re not eating your typical dose of hormones and other additives when consuming a free range animal. The flesh was bright red and extremely lean. Even though elk has tons of natural flavor, I added some chunks of cubed butter to the patties so that the burgers didn’t dry out during the cooking process.

 I pan seared the burgers in a giant cast iron skillet and then finished them off under the broiler to melt the smoked gouda on top. I also adorned the half pounders with some sauteed shiitake mushrooms, and grilled scallions that were marinated in Fig Balsamic Vinegar. The earthy flavor in the shrooms, combined with the sweet char on the onions accentuated the gaminess of the elk. I didn’t want to mask the flavor of the giant deer with tons of unneeded bread, so I simply slid it into a paper thin pita pocket to serve.

 I marched up the spiral staircase, with a giant platter of elk burgers, slightly chilled Pinot Noir, and tons of napkins. The burgers were jaw numbingly huge, and freshly pink and juicy. There was no way that this treat could pass for beef because the wild flavors were so intense and concentrated. It was by far one of the most interesting, and most delicious burgers I have ever consumed. After all this food, everyone was pretty full, but we brought up one final course to nibble on as the sun dipped behind the Prudential.

Even if we had to remove our belts, we were going to make room for some grilled skirt steak, sliced, and tossed with some Asian Sesame noodles. The cool ocean breeze cut through the humidity, and made it bearable to digest under the stars as we finished off some more wine, and planned a massive hunting trip in the Fall. It’s one thing to be a gatherer, and pick up your own food at the supermarket, but to be a hunter and truly appreciate the flavors of what you catch is something that I really want to experience.

I don’t know about you, but this heat wave is starting to get exhausting. With record temperatures skyrocketing to 100+, the last thing I felt like doing was turning on my stove or standing over a scorching hot grill. Just stepping outside onto the deck felt like walking into a giant oven. I came home from work, peeled off my sweaty button-down, and decided to make soup. Yes… that’s right, soup in a heat wave.

 Gazpacho is a traditional Spanish soup made from raw vegetables, that originated in the southern region of Andalusia.

Now a days, gazpacho has many different variations, and the term gazpacho is almost generic for chilled vegetable soup. The good thing about this refreshing, summer soup is that it can be made entirely in your blender or food processor.

Most countries have some type of staple, peasant dish that incorporates crusty, day-old bread into a fabulous meal, such as the Italian tomato and bread soup or panzanella, a cold bread salad. Gazpacho is Spain’s equivalent of these peasant dishes that takes leftovers and brings them to life.

 Since, the preparation is so simple, I decided to make both the classic red and white varieties. The red gazpacho is tomato based, and in my opinion tastes better when it is chunky and has some texture.

I didn’t have any day old bread, so I toasted some sliced white bread and cut the crusts off like I would for a toddler’s PB & J. I soaked the crusty bread in some ice water for about twenty minutes while I got my blender ready.

From there on out it’s just a matter of tossing in different ingredients as if you were making a smoothie. I rang the water out of the bread by squeezing the soggy toast in clenched fists and added that first, along with tons of cherry tomatoes, red onion, jalapeno, garlic and cucumber.

 Cucumber, bread, garlic and tomatoes are staples in red gazpacho, but I enjoy a little heat from the jalapenos. As the blender roared away, I added a stream of extra virgin olive oil, and a splash of Spanish Sherry vinegar. The bread thickens the soup and makes it all come together.

After everything is incorporated, I passed the liquid through a fine mesh strainer to remove some of the gritty skins, pulp, and larger chunks of bread. With the red gazpacho, I like a chunky texture so I reserved a small dice of all of the components that I folded into the puree after. I cleaned out my blender and refrigerated the gazpacho until it was time to serve. My white gazpacho is a little bit more elegant and refined than the red. I start off the same way, with the soggy bread, and garlic cloves, but I then toss in some toasted almonds.

 The almonds give the soup a nuttiness to balance out the sweeter flavors of white grapes. Into the blender goes some of the ice water, and some white grape juice followed by the Sherry vinegar, and extra virgin olive oil. I usually press the “liquefy” button on my blender for this soup because a smooth, velvety texture is more important. I also pass the liquid through the strainer twice to make sure there is no grit in the mouthfeel.

 The white gazpacho is then seasoned, chilled, and set aside until it’s ready to serve. The longer these soups sit in the fridge, the more flavorful they get, which makes leftovers a must. Since I set my thermostat for 68 degrees, I felt that it was okay to turn my stove on for only two minutes. I quickly seared some fresh scallops on one side until they were golden brown and caramelized.

 Seafood and gazpacho are a great combination. A lot of times restaurants will serve their gazpacho in a martini glass with a few jumbo shrimp dangling over the edge. I plated a few of the scallops like buoys in the middle of each soup and topped them with a few different garnishes. With two different soups and some light seafood, we needed a wine that was equally refreshing.

I chose to open a bottle of Fetish Field of Dreams Moscato, from the Barossa Valley, Australia. This wine is modeled after the slightly sweet, slightly sparkling wines from Northern Italy. The crisp, effervescence is so refreshing with the soup. When you pour the cold wine into the glass a foamy head appears, reminiscent of a Belgian Ale. It gives off aromas of flowers, white peaches and honeydew melons.

Unlike other dessert wines, the moscato is low in alcohol and isn’t sticky and syrupy, which makes it pleasant to serve with a meal. The subtle, sweet fruit complimented the spiciness of the red gazpacho, and was pleasantly elegant with the white. The tiny bubbles cleared your palate after each sip and prepared you for a slurp of a totally different flavor. After tasting the wine, and the soup separately, I realized that a few splashes of the bubbly moscato would actually give the soup a whole new character.

Marinating fresh berries in Moscato is also a great dessert when spooned over a creamy custard. We had plenty of leftovers of soup to bring to the pool the next day, but the Field of Dreams disappeared quickly. Thankfully, I didn’t start hearing voices about building a baseball field in the middle of South Boston, but if it meant that rain will come, I might consider it.

Today marks the 100th blog post on Rooftop Gourmet! It’s been ten months, lots of great food and wine, and many hours in the kitchen. Over the better part of last year, a lot has happened. I have learned so much about wine and food, and developed a level of knowledge that I never dreamed I’d reach so soon. You can read wine encyclopedias until your eyeballs pop out of your skull, but truly understanding wine comes from repetitive tasting (and reading while tasting, typically before you taste so that you don’t fall asleep).

 A great example of this is with my fiance Siobhan, who I met during my journey in blogging, and who has been extremely supportive and patient with me throughout the past year. If it wasn’t for her, this site wouldn’t look as professional, wouldn’t get updated in a timely fashion, and the food wouldn’t taste as delicious. She is the unsung hero, who has no voice on this blog, but contributes so much to making it what it is today. She probably wants to throw my laptop over the side of the roofdeck if I ask her to run out for another knob of ginger at 1o:30pm, or ask her to pause between bites for a picture of the cauliflower floret on her fork.

When I met Siobhan she didn’t drink red wine, and the only white she enjoyed was sweet Riesling. Over the course of the year, you could tell she became more open to trying different things, and of course more curious. I started her off with a few sips of my Pinot Noir, and by Christmas she was not only drinking, but thoroughly enjoying powerhouse California Cabs, and aged Bordeaux that reeked of wet leather.

She was like my little guinea pig. Her palate transformed from a “I’ll have a glass of the house Chardonnay” drinker, to a sophisticated wine drinker who can now pinpoint what region of Italy the red wine in her glass is from simply by smelling it.

My cooking techniques have become more elaborate and precise over the past year, and my food imagination has run completely wild. After the third week in September I thought I’d run out of ideas and have to shut down the website. Instead, I have a notepad in my Blackberry that has a list of ideas longer than my address book.

For the first couple weeks, I didn’t even have a camera. I just scrolled back to the beginning of the site to reminisce and realized that my blog posts were awful. Once I got my new camera, I did more research on food photography than I did for my senior year thesis. I now see food in a whole different light and love the artistic aspect it has. I have met so many fantastic people throughout the past year and reconnected with people whom I never thought read my site, and bonded over food or wine. I realized that not only cooking relaxes me but writing does as well and reconfirmed that the best feeling in the world is watching someone eat your food and hearing people say that they love reading about it.

In honor of my 100th blog post, my father gave me something special that he had stored away in his wine cellar for the past twenty years. Even though I have included it in this post, I must admit, I didn’t get a chance to open it this past weekend because everyone was away for the holiday, and Siobhan and I weren’t going to drink or bathe in six liters of Opus One. He was gracious enough to part with his 6.0 Liter (Imperial) bottle of 1980 Opus One, as long as we open it when he’s in attendance.

 It’s about time, because he just may have sat on this bottle a tad long. The prime drinking years for this vintage of Opus ended about four years ago, but then again the shelf life extends longer as the bottle gets bigger. This is only the second vintage of Opus One ever made which is now a brand name, and what once was a collaborative project between Robert Mondavi and Baron Phillipe de Rothschild.

This juice was bottled when these two pioneers, now hall of famers, were in their prime; two years before I was even born. I may be a little optimistic… but this has to still be amazing. Stay tuned to the day in the near future when we pop the dusty cork on this time capsule and see how the 1980 has held up over the years.

For my 100th post, I let Siobhan take over during the day when I was at work, because as a school teacher, she can only sit at the pool for so long during the day. Her task was to create a delicious side dish for the American Kobe beef flat iron steaks that I was picking up on the way home from work. She has a huge sweet tooth and has been bugging me to do a dessert blog for some time now, and I think this was her way of sneaking it in.

She ended up making a roasted corn creme brulee’ which was one of the most amazing side dishes to a simple piece of steak that I have ever had. Every steak house in the country should throw this on their menu in between mashed potatoes and Mac n Cheese. She simply roasted the fresh corn in their husks and then cut all of the kernels off the cobs. Roasting the corn in the husk retains so much more flavor than boiling them, which was what we were going for in this dish.

She macerated the warm kernels in heavy cream and milk for about twenty minutes to infuse the flavor and then got started with a custard base. She vigorously whisked eight egg yolks with some granulated sugar until they lightened in color and became gluey. With the boat motor, she pureed the corn kernels and heavy cream together before slowly adding it to the bowl. After the last drop fell into the bowl, the “batter” was incorporated and bright yellow. She divided the batter into all the ramekins she could find in the cupboards and placed them into a 325 degree oven.

A water bath around the ramekins helped cook the creme brulee evenly. I walked in the door when the cooking was almost complete and the entire condo smelled like roasted, buttered popcorn. She slid the ramekins out of the oven when they were still jiggly and let them cool in the refrigerator with plastic wrap until it was time to brulee’. In the meantime, I leaned over the countertop, admiring the impressive marbling in my flat iron steak.

American Kobe is a less expensive knock-off of the authentic Wagyu Kobe which comes from Japanese cows, fed strictly walnuts and beer, and massaged and bathed in Sake everyday. The result is a fatty, but evenly dispersed fatty, unbelievably flavorful beef. If only the #24 Kobe was as fat and lazy as this group of livestock, the Celtics might have an extra banner hanging from the rafters this summer. I didn’t want to take anything away from this ideal cut of beef, so I simply seasoned it with salt and freshly cracked pepper before throwing it on my grill. When it was just under medium rare in temperature, I slathered a dollop of black truffle butter on top of the steak and let the juices run into the flesh, and again with more butter while it was resting (welcome to Steakhouse 101).

I sliced the flat iron on the bias, against the grain to achieve maxium tenderness and it was perfectly pink and warm in the center. At the last minute before serving, Siobhan sprinkled some coarse sugar on top of the corn custard and threw it under the broiler to brulee’, or torch (note to self… register for a blow torch before your wedding). Quickly, the sugar carmelized and formed that crispy, rich crust that was just begging to be cracked minutes later by my fork. I plated the two heavenly, 100th blog post specials on the cover of the Opus One “coffin” that holds this massive bottle. As the primal flavor of beef at its best melted in my mouth, I took a bite of the fresh, sweet corn creme brulee that wasn’t too sweet and wasn’t too savory, and leaned back in my chair dreaming of what the Opus would taste like. Even though I was Opus-less, I thought back to all of the previous 99 dinners that we ate together, and wines that we shared and was the happiest I have ever been.

You either love them or you hate them. A great Bloody Mary will either make you barf, or prevent you from puking up last night’s bar tab. This classic drink, said to have been created at Harry’s Bar in the 1920′s, is famous for curing the dreaded hangover. The basic combination of equal parts vodka and tomato juice has been put through years of makeovers by bartenders everywhere, claiming their own “signature” Bloody Mary.

 As a Bloody Mary aficionado (I’m not always hungover I swear) I have seen everything from smoked green tomato puree to a tall Bloody garnished with a handful of Slim Jims. My two all-time favorite places to wash one down is in the parking lot of Gillette Stadium, pre-Patriots game, and at the make-your-own Bloody Mary bar at East Coast Grill in Cambridge, MA. Both are amazing in their own way. Making your own batch the night before, so thick that you can leave the straws at home, and standing in your snow boots at 9am talking football, or hovering over 40 different condiments with a pint glass full of ice, preparing for the best brunch in town.

The best thing about a Bloody Mary is that all of the ingredients, no matter what they are, are so bold in flavor that it awakes not only your tastebuds, but all of your senses too; Spicy, salty, sweet, bitter… and boozy.

Last night, I took some of the most popular Bloody Mary staples and created a fish dish to pay homage to my favorite Sunday morning beverage. I bought a thick and meaty piece of fresh Halibut to serve as the canvas for my Bloody Mary Halibut. I started off preparing my tomato sauce by toasting some sliced garlic and crushed chile flakes to give the dish some heat.

After the sauce simmered away on the stovetop for about twenty minutes, I added a few dashes of Tabasco to give it that tangy, vinegar kick to it. The sauce wasn’t meant to be a huge part of the dish, so I had a heavy hand when kicking up the heat. My goal was to make my forehead start to perspire as it does while lurched over a tall Bloody Mary at the bar. The next thing I did was wash off a few stalks of celery, which are typically served as a garnish. I thinly shaved them on a bias and tossed them in a bowl with parsley, lemon juice and a little Extra Virgin Olive Oil. Celery adds a bitter, freshness to the classic recipe as well as a powerful crunch. A gremolata is an Italian “condiment” that is usually sprinkled over braised dishes to liven them up, such as Veal Osso Bucco.

 It normally consists of anchovies, lemon zest, and fresh parsley that is ground in a mortar and pestle. I decided to make a gremolata with lemon zest, fresh parsley and chopped green olives because all of those flavors are tied into a Bloody Mary. Most drinks are usually garnished with a lemon wedge and a few green olives that are usually fished out of the bottom of the ice with your celery stalk.

 I peeled the nasty layer off of the fresh horseradish root and revealed its ivory, white flesh. Immediately, I could smell the pungent zip that closely resembles the flavor of wasabi. Horseradish has a specific type of heat that is totally different than the heat in the tomato sauce. Unlike the Capsaicin that comes from chilie peppers and punches you in the tastebuds and numbs your tongue, the heat from horseradish root clears your sinuses by sending a rush of sneeze-inducing fumes through your nose. Sounds painful but I am a sucker for punishment and absolutely love it.

 I grated the fresh root and crusted the top of the halibut filet with the coconut-like shavings before baking it in the oven until the flesh was opaque. The crust toasted into a delicious golden brown color and I sprinkled the fresh gremolata on top. I placed the fish on a streak of the fiery tomato sauce and plated some refreshing, shaved celery salad on the side. One of the main components in your typical Bloody Mary mix was not left out.

Worcestershire Sauce is usually added to give the mix a little more depth and character. I made a sticky, Worcestershire Sauce reduction and drizzled it in the corner of the plate. When you ran your fork through every component on the plate, the flavors of a classic Bloody Mary all came together in an elegant seafood dish. The crispy horseradish crust protected the moist, flaky fish. The heat from the tomato sauce was tamed by the cool, celery salad, and the reduction and gremolata side-swiped your palate with rich and salty flavors. I paired this deconstructed cocktail dish with an intriguing wine from Salento, Italy.

The 2008 Li Veli Primonero is a unique blend (kind of like vodka and tomato juice) of Primitivo and Negromaro grapes. The Primitivo (Italian Zinfandel) is picked in early August and produces fresh, ripe fruit flavors, while the Negromaro is picked in late September, producing dark fruit and earthy flavors. The stark difference in picking times, and styles of the grapes combine to make a very well balanced, food-friendly wine. The color is deep ruby purple, with fresh berries on the nose and a velvety mouthfeel. The wine is medium bodied and rich with a finish that Italians would say is, “full of finesse”. This is a one of a kind blend that shows that new and innovative winemaking in an Old World wine country is on the rise. After a meal like this, I am anxiously looking forward to football season or at least maybe some more 10am World Cup Soccer matches, where Bloody Mary will be in attendance.

Today, June 25th will be the last June 25th where Siobhan and I aren’t out celebrating our anniversary. We are getting married exactly one year from today and we both made a pact to start eating and living healthier lifestyles. It’s not like we eat bad to begin with, because most of our meals are prepared with the freshest, local ingredients we can find. We eat tons of seafood and exercise regularly (as well as beginning to train for the 2011 Boston Marathon), but it’s the snacking in between meals that kills me.

Recently Siobhan mentioned that I should start eating more fruit so I went out to the store to pick some up. While I was there, I had a great idea for dinner and my mission to load up on fruit got sidetracked.

I did happen to buy a dozen fresh peaches because they looked amazing sitting there, but I wasn’t planning on snacking on them. I couldn’t remember the last time I had a peach, so I picked one up and bit right into it. It was so ripe and juicy that we had to call for a clean up in Aisle 5. My entire forearm was dripping wet with the tart, sweet juices that ran from the bright orange flesh.

I finished my shopping while brainstorming, and headed back to the kitchen to put together this interesting idea of mine. In the past, I have grilled stone fruits and topped them with vanilla ice cream as a dessert, but I have never used them in a savory dish.

I figured that if I balanced the sweet flavors of the grilled peaches with something else, equally as bold and that had contrasting flavors,  the dish just might work. The smoky, and spicy flavors of Chipotle peppers in Adobo sauce was the perfect compliment. Chipotle peppers are Jalapeno peppers that have been smoked and submerged into this creamy, brick red, Adobo sauce.

 I spooned a few of the shriveled up chilies into the blender along with three whole fresh peaches, some lime juice, salt, pepper, and a healthy squirt of honey. After tasting, re-seasoning, tasting, and re-seasoning some more, the sauce was finally perfect. From the start, you could clearly taste the fresh peach puree, quickly followed by a burst of heat and then an underlying smokiness that lingered on your palate.

 I transferred the creation into a squeeze bottle a la Bobby Flay where it waited to adorn my dish. I had been marinating a few chicken breasts in what I like to call a Margarita bath.

Tons of fresh lime juice, cilantro, jalapenos, salt, and pepper. I only use this combination for quick marinades because the acidity in the lime juice begins to “cook” the chicken and it can get kind of nasty. A few hours at most and all of those flavors get injected into the meat perfectly. Halving peaches was alot harder than I expected, especially since the fruit was extremely ripe. I didn’t have the patience to slice down the bias, and softly twist the two halves open so Siobhan took over.

 My peaches looked like silly putty, while hers came out completely symmetrical. I simply coated the inner flesh in some vegetable oil and fired up the grill.

As soon as the chicken breasts hit the grates, the fresh citrus from the lime and the heat from the jalapeno filled the air. I oiled down the left side of the grill and carefully placed my fruit down to achieve beautiful grill marks. As long as your grill is super hot, the fruit only takes a few minutes to get soft. All of the natural sugars in the fruit start to caramelize and a sticky crust starts to form. This is when you take the fruit off and cover it in tin foil or plastic wrap to finish cooking. I plated the grilled chicken and peaches together and sprinkled them with some shaved green onion and drizzled my peachy-chipotle sauce on top.

To give the dish some texture, I deep fried a can of chick peas and violently tossed the warm beans in salt and ancho chile powder. The outer skins get nice and crispy while the warm center still melts in your mouth like rich hummus. I sprinkled the fried chick peas all over the dish and it looked sporadically enticing. The sweet and spicy combination turned out to be a huge hit. Siobhan rarely eats chicken because she says that it doesn’t have much flavor but she was licking her plate clean and popping the extra fried Garbanzos like it was popcorn.

The seductive peach, especially once it was grilled, melted in your mouth and then was interrupted by a burst of smoky heat from the complex sauce. I opened a bottle of the 2006 Penner-Ash Syrah from Oregon to bounce off this unique dish. Penner-Ash is known for their high end Pinot Noir, but I felt that this bold recipe deserved something with a little more “UMPH”. The wine was loaded with flavors of blackberry jam, cherry, and plum along with undertones of white pepper and smoky cedar. It was a perfect balance of Barossa Valley Shiraz style and French Croze-Hermitage style. Massive and abrasive at times, knocking you back in your seat and double-clutching your glass but gentle and balanced at other times, allowing the food to be the star.

The structure and mouthfeel of the wine was dense and quite smooth, as was the peachy-chipotle sauce. The two played terrifically with each other. Now that all of the peaches were gone after dinner, I had no choice but to snack on a box of Cheez-Its like I normally do. Oh well… at least I got my daily serving of fruit.