Rooftop Gourmet

 When I was forced to wear gloves during my ride to work while waiting for my heat to kick on, I knew it was that time of year to make a huge batch of stick-to-your-ribs chili. There’s nothing like a spicy bowl of chili on a cold winter night to make you forget that the thermometer reads 21 degrees. I have made countless different types of chili over the years (and was even involved in a chili cookoff) but this is by far my favorite and the most comforting.

Texans will tell you that authentic Lone Star state chili has no beans in it, just beef… and lots of it.

 I stopped by Whole Foods on the way home from work and bought four pounds of beef chuck stew meat. Whenever I cook chili, I always make a large enough batch so that I can freeze individual portions and reheat them for quick dinners. Chuck meat is best for this chili because it’s flavorful and tough but after hours of slow cooking, the fibrous meat breaks down and literally melts in your mouth.

 I like to sear the beef cubes in the pot first, then remove them before I start sweating the aromatics; it gives me some time to wipe the tears off of my face after dicing three large yellow onions. I also add about six cloves of garlic and a half dozen fresh jalapenos. Sometimes if I’m feeling like a masochist I’ll toss in a few Habanero chilies to burn off my taste buds but I wanted to make a tame batch this time around.

 Heat from chilies are measured by the level of capsaicin in the seeds and skin and are placed on a scale called the Scoville scale. The more Scoville units a chili has, the more fire it produces (a jalapeno only has between 2,500 -8,000 out of about 10 million). After all of the aromatics are soft, I add some tomato paste and then the dried spices.

Usually it’s about 2 parts chili powder to 1 part cumin, with a splash of cayenne, dried oregano, and my secret ingredient… cinnamon. Just a pinch of cinnamon will leave people scratching their heads as to what that underlying flavor is. I never cook with any wine that I wouldn’t drink by itself, and the same goes for when I cook with beer. Once all the alcohol is cooked off, what you’re left with is flavor, so I never skimp on what is going into the pot.

 I decided to use one of my favorite specialty beers, the Innis & Gunn Oak aged beer from Scotland. This beer has layers of complexity from aging the suds in mature oak casks, previously used to make bourbon. Flavors of vanilla, toffee, and orange peel make this rich beer perfect for chili. I deglazed the pot with the beer and some beef stock, then added the meat back in for a long simmering session. After about two unbearable hours on the stovetop waiting for it to thicken and tenderize, I was ready to get myself a bowl.

The chili was steaming hot and the entire apartment smelled like a cowboy’s campfire. The only thing this ‘bowl of red’ needed was a glass of red. I paired the chili with the 2006 Franz Hill Vineyards Zinfandel from California. I chose red Zinfandel because it almost reminds me of chili; big, powerful, meaty, and peppery.

The tannins aren’t too strong which would clash with the heat and it’s loaded with tons of ripe berry flavors. Don’t get me wrong though, this isn’t your pop and go everyday Zinfandel. The Franz Hill is sophisticated and somewhat reminiscent of a French Rhone wine. The only downside to slow-cooking chili is once you’re finished and satisfied, it’s time to break out a box of S.O.S pads.

When I think about breakfast, I picture mountains of eggs laced with cheese, over flowing bacon, and hashbrowns to sop up the remaining yolk and pork fat. My girlfriend, Siobhan on the other hand has a sweet tooth and loves her pancakes, waffles, and French toast covered in sticky syrup. On Sunday morning, Siobhan got her way and I ventured into a realm of cooking that I have never really dabbled in.

Of course I didn’t want to start my IHOP debut with plain old French toast so I had to spice things up a bit. One healthy breakfast food that I am quite fond of is granola mixed into plain Greek yogurt so I tried to incorporate that flavor into the dish.

Since this was my first time making French toast, the pink grapefruit juice and Prosecco mimosa helped me get through it. I grabbed a huge loaf of fresh sourdough bread from the bakery and cut it into thick “Texas toast” sized slices.

After soaking the bread in some egg and milk mixture I encrusted the slices in nut & honey granola before they went into the frying pan with melted butter (now we’re talking). There’s something about maple syrup that grosses me out. Maybe because it’s super sweet, maybe because its really sticky, or maybe because the kid who sat across from my in fourth grade had pancakes every morning and his breath reeked of it and his fingers were always gross and sappy.

I can’t figure it out, but I have never liked maple syrup. Siobhan decided to compromise with me on this one and let me make fresh raspberry infused maple syrup. I simply cooked down fresh raspberries with some sugar and water, before drizzling in some Grade A, New Hampshire maple syrup.

I took out the trusty boat motor and gave the mixture a few pulses to make sure the sauce was nice and smooth. After the toast was cooked and the granola adhered to the bread I plated the two oversized pieces with some fresh cantaloupe. A healthy drizzle of the raspberry infused syrup and a huge dollop of tangy Greek yogurt topped everything off.

The granola not only added a sweet, honey and nutty flavor to the toast, it also changed the texture of the French toast (there’s one thing I hate more than French toast and that’s soggy French toast). I made the mimosas with Mionetto “il Prosecco” which is a great inexpensive Prosecco (kind of an oxymoron), that comes sealed with a bottle cap. Prosecco is Italys’ version of sparkling wine or champagne.

They range from bone dry to slightly fruity but no where close to as sweet as Piedmont’s Asti Spumante. The slightly bitter grapefruit juice was a nice compliment to the fruity bubbles and what better drink to pair with a Sunday morning brunch. I think I am actually coming around on this whole syrup phobia thing too because I licked my plate clean.

Moules Frites is the French name for the classic combination of mussels and french fries. Pronounced ‘mools freets’, this pairing has taken on all sorts of adaptations over the years. As the prime mussel harvesting season comes to a close, I decided to make my own version of the dish.

 I picked up two sacks of Maine mussels at Whole Foods and threw them on ice in the back of my car. Remember, when you buy mussels they’re still alive so always keep them chilled and do not seal the plastic bag that they come in or else they will suffocate. To save me some time meticulously cutting russet potatoes into perfect strips for the french fries, I broke out one of my Christmas presents; a French mandolin.

 A mandolin is a guillotine looking contraption that has all sorts of sharp blades and attachments that produces any type of cut, slice, or shape you can possibly imagine. It’s like a grown up version of the Play Doh maker without the rainbows and purple spaghetti.

After watching the video tutorial, I managed to produce about two pounds of perfectly identical french fries without losing a finger. After my huge pot of canola oil came to perfect frying temperature (325 degrees), I started dropping in the potato planks in small batches to prevent sticking.

 Most people are afraid to deep-fry at home but if you get a candy thermometer and monitor the temperature of the oil, it is pretty simple.

 I was going for a Thai inspired version of this dish so when the fries came out of the hot oil, I tossed them in red curry powder and chopped, fresh cilantro.

The mussels needed a quick shave, or de-bearding before they got cooked; mussels have a small “beard” that sticks out of the shell that needs to be removed before you cook them. Simply pinch it and tug it out. Most of my mussels only had a four o’clock shadow and didn’t need much cleaning so I rinsed them under cold water and set them aside so I could build the broth. I started by sauteing some shallots and garlic in olive oil until they were soft. Then I added a heaping tablespoon of red curry paste, lime juice, coconut milk, and fresh basil.

 Once the broth came to a simmer, I added the mussels and put the lid on for them to steam.

 All of these flavors started to come together and filled the air of my apartment; the acidity of the lime juice balanced out the creamy, sweet coconut milk and the heat from the curry paste was tamed by the fresh basil. Once all of the shells had opened, I served the entire meal in the pan I cooked them in with some lime wedges and sliced green onions. Sometimes I just get in the mood to roll up my sleeves and get my hands dirty when it comes to lobster, peel and eat shrimp, or in this case… a huge bowl of mussels.

The fries were extra crispy on the outside but still cooked perfectly in the middle; delicious when dipped into the coconut milk.

 I chose a crisp, refreshing white wine to pair with this meal because there was just so much flavor going on already. The 2007 Fournier Sauvigion Blanc from the Loire Valley was perfect. Like I mentioned before, whites from this region of France are some of the best valued wines around.

 The great acidity complimented the shellfish and subtle flavors of grapefruit and wet stone lingered on the finish. This is a great inexpensive wine for bivalves or seafood in general, that tastes like an expensive Sancerre. I was fortunate that all of the flavorful broth was sopped up before we broke into the second pound of french fries or else my mussels would be turning into fat.

 Over the weekend, a bunch of my college friends flew into town for their annual Boston trip. I know how these guys like to eat so I had to come up with some affordable meal ideas that could feed an army.

My initial thought was a baked pasta dish because I can assemble everything ahead of time and just throw it into the oven when they start to get feisty. I am a cheese fanatic, so I decided to make a five cheese (the more the better) casserole and top it with chopped, buttery cashews. I had to bring out my monster, lobster pot just to boil enough water to cook five pounds of rigatoni.

The rich, cheese sauce started out with a simple bechamel sauce; one of the classic, French mother sauces. Equal parts butter and flour get whisked frantically over medium heat to create a light roux. Once the flour taste was cooked out, I added a ton of scalded milk and brought it to a simmer.

The roux is what thickens the milk and creates the base for the cheese sauce. One by one, I added the different cheeses; first the Gouda, then the Fontina, then the Gorgonzola, then the Parmesan, then more Gorgonzola, and lastly some Mozzarella. By the time I was done whisking, and all of the cheeses slowly melted into the sauce, my arm was exhausted.

The creamy sauce was like glue but insanely rich and decadent. After the pasta was strained, I gave it a cheese bath with some fresh peas and folded it into an industrial, tin foil baking sheet. I added some breadcrumbs, chopped cashews, and grated Pecorino cheese on top to give it a buttery crunch; my favorite part of baked mac and cheese is the crispy crust.

After about thirty minutes in the oven, the crust had formed and the inside was gooey and bubbly.

The contrast between the crunchy cashews and the creamy cheese sauce was a hit, but after everyone had a brick of the casserole it was time to start the main course. I’ve found that one of the best ways to feed a ton of people on a budget is to buy large, inexpensive cuts of meat and cook them slow and low (braise them).

Once the meat gets tender enough to pull it apart with a fork, I shred it all up and serve it in tacos; this is also perfect because people can eat standing up (I don’t have enough chairs for everyone anyway). I bought a five pound beef top round that I cooked over low heat on the grill, inside a tin foil tray. I filled the tray with a mixture of fresh ginger, limes, garlic, Thai chilies, beef broth, and soy sauce.

The huge, caveman cut of beef braised in this liquid for over three hours until it was falling apart on its own. I put some of my friends to work shredding it while I prepared the accompaniments for the taco bar. I made carmelized shallots, sliced green onions, a Siracha sour cream sauce, and a purple cabbage slaw that was tossed with rice wine vinegar and sesame oil.

Even though everyone was stuffed from the cheesy casserole they still managed to wolf down a few tacos. The five pounds of beef goes a long way; I still have about half leftover. This would be a great idea for a Super Bowl party a few weeks down the road even though it will be tough to decide who to root for.  

 Maybe it’s because I don’t have a huge sweet tooth, or maybe my tastebuds are all out of whack, but I love bitter foods. I love hoppy, bitter beers, I drink double espresso straight and iced coffee black. One of my favorite leafy vegetables is radicchio, and I love eathing it raw. Radicchio is an Italian vegetable that comes in a few different varieties, all of which are extremely bitter.

It looks like a purple cabbage and is usually about the size of a softball. One of the most simple ways to eat radicchio (and one of my favorites) is to split the head in half and grill it with a little extra virgin olive oil.

The grilling or roasting does reduce the bitterness level quite a bit, and most chefs usually balance the bitterness with something sweet (like balsamic vinegar). I made a sweet vinaigrette that I served warm over the raw radicchio salad because the heat doesn’t really wilt the vegetable like most leafy greens would succumb to. I started off by sauteing some shallots and golden raisins in pancetta fat.

 Once everything was soft, I transferred the entire mixture to a blender where I then added some whole grain mustard and extra virgin olive oil. The vinaigrette is a perfect balance of rich, tangy, and sweet…perfect for the raw bitter greens. I simply pan roasted the salmon until is was crispy on the top and pink and moist in the center.

 I consider salmon to be a more oily, denser, meatier fish that has a sort of woodsy quality to it depending on how it’s prepared. This quality makes it extremely versatile when it comes to pairing with wine or other foods. I love the combination of earthy mushrooms and salmon because they play so nicely with each other. I grilled some meaty portabello mushroom caps and stuffed them with some minted peas; fresh peas that I simply sauteed with chopped, fresh mint.

Both side dishes to my salmon had impeccable balance which really brought the dish together as a whole. The peas and mint, freshened up the earthy mushrooms, and the sweet vinaigrette balanced out the bitter radicchio. It was a great, wintery fish dish with loads of complexity.

I served an Oregon Pinot Noir with the salmon because I feel that unless it is poached, salmon needs a red wine. The 2008 Forefront Pinot Noir is made by Pine Ridge Winery and uses 100% Pinot Noir grapes from the Willamette Valley, Oregon. Oregon is a great place to grow Pinot because of the warm days and cool nights, which produce tons of overly ripe, generous fruit; a major characteristic of great Pinot Noir.

The fruit in the Forefront bottle is finished for ten months in French Oak barrels which gives it a little more structure and spicyness. The wine has silky tannins, and bundles of fresh ripe, red fruit such as raspberry and pomegranate followed by a spicy, star anise finish. There’s plenty of acidity too which is a reason why it works so well with seafood.

It’s a good thing that I got another healthy dish under my belt before this weekend, because more playoff football and friends from college coming to town equals lots of unhealthy party food.