Drunken Mushroom

On a regular basis, I render the fat from (or the meat from, depending on if you're an optimist or pessimist) a bunch of what we call PSMOs (Peeled Side Muscle On). These are a type of beef tenderloin cuts. First, I roast them ontop of a bed of carrots, onion, and celery (sound familiar?). I put this in an oven at 350' until the meat looks very brown and the vegetables are kinda black on the edges. Then I put everything, including juices, into a large pot. I add a pinch of dried thyme and black peppercorns. I add 3 bayleaves, and some parsley stems. Then, I cover everything with water and let it simmer until half of the water boils away. (This is called "reducing.") Next, I remove the meat, throw away the veggies, and strain the liquid through a china-cap (or a "sieve") and then a chinois (shin-wa) which is just a very fine sieve. I pull the meat from the fat and save the meat. But let's forget about this meat. I'd like to turn your attention to the yummy goodness that drained through the fine mesh chinois. Beef Stock! It's really good stuff. I love it. But since I don't have to make soup right away, I must lower the temperature of the beef stock quickly, so into the freezer it goes (about -20' brrrrr). I do this to prevent bacteria growth. Then, when the stock is cold, it's much easier to remove the fat from the stock since it's solidified on the top. This beef stock will be the base for my next soup of the day:

DRUNKEN MUSHROOM

The tools available:

1) beefstock

2) lots of mushrooms...I mean LOTS

3) some beef tenderloin medalions

4) the normal veggies, herbs, and spices

5) a whole wine cellar full of booze

The plan of attack:

1) get the mushrooms drunk in a bath of Madeira wine

2) create a mirepoix

3) go easy on the meat, but add enough so no one askes "Where's the beef?!"

A cook with wine can be a real fun-gi.

I'm using regular, 'ole, button mushrooms. These just need to be rinsed off. You don't kneed to peel them and the stems on these babies are edible (unlike shitakes or portabellas). I cut these in large pieces. Someone watching over my shoulder told me that I should slice them thinly, but I don't think they understood that the mushrooms will shrink in the soup. So what goes well with mushrooms? Well...just about anything. Some may argue that mushrooms and shrimp taste like whatever sauce you serve them in. I suppose this is due to the over use of potent ingredients to add flavor. Mushrooms will soak up whatever you cook them with and this flavor will trump the delicate taste of the mushroom. But for some reason, like salt and pepper, like chocolate and peanut butter, like lime and cilantro, like ginger and garlic, like Abbot and Costello, the combo of mushrooms and Madeira is magic.

Madeira is not just any port in a storm.

Madeira wine is a fortified wine from the Madeira Islands of Portugal. The original reason for fortification was to preserve wines. Adding alcohol before the fermentation process is complete kills the yeast and leaves behind the food that the yeast was feeding on....sugar. A popular type of fortified wine is called "Port." Which is also from PORTugal. But NOT from the Madeira Islands. Other differences are that Madeira is heated and exposed to the air. Why? Wouldn't this kill most wines? Yes! It would! But this is exactly what happed to Madeira when it was shipped over seas centuries ago. But, as it turns out, this was a happy accident. The cooking and oxidizing of the fortified wine gave it a unique taste. And for some reason this type of wine goes very well with mushrooms.

(FUN FACT: Madeira was a favorite of Thomas Jefferson and it was used to toast the Declaration of Independence.)

What kind of a 'room has no walls or doors?

The rest of the assembly is easy as mushroom pie. Just cut up the beef, brown it in a pot with a little butter and oil, let some of it burn to the bottom (It's ok...trust me.) Then simmer your mirepoix with the meat and add some Madeira to deglaze and just watch as the brown bits at the bottom of the pot dissolve away into some soupygoodness. Then add the mushrooms and the beefstock. That's it. And it's good stuff. Garnish with a little cheese if you like. Or put it in an oven-safe dish add piece of crisp bread and cover with some swiss or provalone as if it were French Onion Soup. Only...it's not French...and um...I used mushrooms instead of onions....but you get the idea.

Enjoy!

And don't worry if you forget to put the cork back in the bottle of your Madeira...it was designed to last.

Minestrone

Today, I checked out my itemized list of food to prepare and saw that I needed to make a soup to be served within two hours. (Among other things with the same deadline.) That didn't give me a lot of time to think. To make matters worse, the miscellaneous shelf was nearly empty. There were some roasted red peppers and some tomato paste. But that's it. Why might this make things worse for me? I'm sure most cooks would easily make their favorite soup, since there were no mandatory ingredients to incorporate. I, on the other hand, get more and more confused the more choices I have. For those of you who know me, you know I have a hard time making decisions. I think this is a minor form of O.C.D. I just don't want to make the "wrong choice." Whatever that might be. I throw my hands up in the air and decide to make a big vegetable hodgepodge soup. Then it occurs to me: A "big soup" is what some Italians might call a minestrone. However, the word originated from "Minestra" which means to dish up or serve. Minestrone is rarely made the same way and is more or less the Chop Suey of soup.

I start grabbing veggies. Everything from Asparagus to Zuccini will be going into this pot. But first...you guessed it..the mirepoix. I go Frenchy with this part...you know: 25% carrots, 25% celery, 50% onion. But this time I use both red and white onion. While I let that mixture cook in some olive oil, I cut the other veggies and grab my spices. Which spices? Gotta make this thing Italian, don't I? So I go with oregano, basil, and rosemary. (And plenty of garlic.) The oregano and basil are dried, but the rosemary is fresh. Which is a good thing, because dried rosemary can feel like you're eating little sticks. I'm in a bit of a rush, so I just drop the whole stem of rosemary into the pot and let the savory leaves cook themselves off. Veggies? Check. Spices? Check. Broth?

I did not want to make the soup heavy with a beef base, nor did I want to make it to light and salty with a vegetable base. So I combined a vegetable base with a chicken base. I'm using the word "base" because that's what we use, a condensed broth. Now, for the edification of this blog:

Broth vs. Stock

There is some dispute on the differences between these two. I shall explore these differences and state my own opinion on the matter. First, let's look at the similarities. Both are made from boiling things in water. Both can be made with vegetables, spices, and fish. Can both be made with other meats? Some say "yes" and some say "no." One source states that the difference between the two is literally the meat of the issue and make no bones about it. Meaning that a stock is not made from meat, but merely the bones, vegetables, and spices. Others insist that the stock is the unstrained liquid and the broth is the strained liquid which can be served as is.

It can be surely said that the major distinction is that stocks are used to make other dishes such as soups and sauces. I think that, since gelatin comes from boiling meatless bones, that a full-bodied liquid with gelatin isn't really servable by itself, and since broths are servable as is, then stocks are made with merely bones and broths are made with meat included. Fish and vegetable broths are made from the same basic ingredients as fish and vegetable stocks, so the difference between them is really one of intended end use and word choice.

How to make a broth-stock-thingy? I recommend putting everything into a pasta cooker. That a kind of pot with a strainer that fits right inside. That way, when you're all done boiling away, you can just lift the strainer out of the pot and what is left is pure ambrosia. Some like to encase herbs in cheesecloth, but I think that a metal tea ball is better, since they are reusable. Or you could invest in a chinois ("shin-wa"). Which is a fine-mesh strainer, sure to only let liquid pass through its wiry filter. If you're film-o-phobic, then I would advise you to refrain from adding the vegies and spices until you've simmered the meat for an hour or so and then removed the film on top. (Which is sometimes referred to as a "raft.") Or you could even place a paper towel on top of the liquid to absorb most of the fatty-oily-scummy film. You may find that when making a broth, you end up with a lot of liquid that you won't need....unless you're feeding an army soup for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I take my excess broth and pour it into either ice cube trays or muffin-tins and freeze it. Then, when I want to make some soup, I can take out as much broth as I need. Maybe one muffin-sized block for a day when I need some chicken noodle soup, or perhaps a whole ice cube tray to feed some unexpected guests.

Minestrone Continued:

I decided to make this soup with no pasta nor rice. But I did include both green beans and garbanzo beans to make it hearty and to add a little protein. I tend to get garlic-happy when cooking. Fortunately, for you vampires out there, the powerful pungent perfume of garlic can be toned down by filling a tea ball with parsley and allowing it to simmer in your broth until the garlic detection level lowers to your standards. A little tomato paste to thicken it and some roasted red peppers to give it that unique touch and it was ready to go.

The garnish was created by me, but the seed for the idea was planted by the pastry chef. I took some puff-pastry. You can buy that in frozen sheets at the grocery store. I poked holes in it with a fork to prevent it from rising too much on me. Then I cut it into strips about 1/2 inch wide and 4 inches long, brushed them with melted butter, dusted them with a mixture of Parmesan cheese, garlic salt, paprika, oregano, and basil, twisted each one like a cheese doodle and baked them until golden brown. I ended up with light, flaky, garlic bread-like sticks, striped to look like some kind of savory peppermint stick.

I don't know if the Italians are the best cooks in the world. But they definitely have the best ingredients to cook with. Buon appetito!

Chicken Tortilla

It was my third day on the job. I'd never worked in a professional kitchen before. I was still going through culture shock. I go to my endless list of things to prepare and see that I have to make a soup for the day. I look around in the recipe book and find nothing. "Where's the recipe?" I ask. "In your head" Is my reply. I am then told that I must make something up on the spot and utilize as much as the left-over ingredients from other dishes as possible. I look at the shelf in the refrigerator and see a shelf marked "miscellaneous." These are the left-over, extra, discarded, flotsam and jetsam of the kitchen. All good. All eat-able. But quite a hodgepodge. I look it over. I see black beans. I see tomato pieces. I see bell pepper pieces. I see salsa. I see...... Chicken Tortilla Soup.

I bake off a few extra chicken breasts.
I grab celery, onion, and bell peppers. (The Holy Trinity.)
Visiting the dry-storage room, I gather up my spices: cumin, cayenne pepper, chili powder, salt, and black pepper.

Why these spices? Well...let's just stick to the star of this piece: Cumin.
During the Middle Ages, it was believed that this magical spice kept chickens and lovers from wandering. This may have a kernel of truth to it. Cumin is incredibly aromatic. You don't have to use much to let the whole neighborhood know that you're having tacos for supper. I mention tacos because (I shiver at the thought of typing these words. ) "Tex-Mex" is a popular type of food these days in the U.S. of A. But cumin has been around for centuries. The ancient Egyptians, Greeks, and Romans used it. It's even mentioned not only in the New Testament of the Bible, but in the Old Testament as well. Today, its used in Mexican, Thai, Vietnamese, and Indian cuisines. You may come across a cook book stating that ground cumin and ground corriander are the same spice. Do not trust that book. Put it away. It is evil. Cumin is completely different to the discerning pallet. Corriander is not it's only evil twin. Oh no, there's an evil triplet...caraway. Although they are similarly umbelliferous (having blossoms shaped like umbrellas), caraway is not nearly as hot to the taste and is much darker in color.
Thus end'th the lesson on cumin.

Like most good soups, I start with a Mirpois. I utilize the Holy Trinity of celery, onion, and bell peppers (including garlic) by sauteeing for a few minutes in olive oil. Then I deglaze with lime juice and add the chicken stock and spices. After that gets brewing, I put in my tomatoes, salsa, blackbeans, and chicken (cut into bite-sized pieces). I try it. It's not bad. But it's missing something. Ah...it lacks a certain fresh-herbiness. Cilantro is best suited for this dish. It's another herb that's used in .... (shivers) "Tex-Mex" cooking. I choose not to thicken this soup. I like the way it smells like chili, but has a kind of potage brothiness about it.

I tell the chef that I'm all done and she asks me to write down the ingredients and make a garnish for the soup. "A garnish?" I ask myself. I didn't even think about that. I told her that it didn't really matter what the cooks used, but I mentioned some suggestions. She told me that the soup was my creation and that the garnish should not be a suggestion, but a command as to how the soup will be presented. I felt so proud that I got to create something of my own. I had no idea that this was a task I would be performing 2 or 3 times a week. For the garnish: a dollop of jalapeno sour cream in the middle, a few tortilla slivers, and a sprinkling of lime zest.

It was heavenly. Light but filling. Spicy but not too hot. Chef described the soup as "excellent." She then informed me that this was a test and I did well, commenting on my "perfect" balance of spices. This made me very pleased with myself......because I plan to open my own restaurant that specializes in soups and breads. It's good to know that I have a knack for soup.

Sweet Potato Bisque

The chef has thrust upon me several bags of sweet potatoes. "Use these," she says. So what comes to mind? A big fat baked yam with brown sugar, cinnamon, and butter. My grandmother's recipe for sugary bliss on Thanksgiving burried under a mantle of marshmallows. The southern favorite, Sweet Potato Pie. Mashed, Whipped, Boiled, Beaten, Baked, Braised, anyway you cook 'em Sweet Potatoes will always bring a smile to my face. What do you get when you cross a filling starchy tuber with sugar and spice? A true comfort food.

But how to make this different? How to put my own signature on this dish? I decide that the starchy orange chunks are ideal for being pureed into a bisque. A bisque is always pureed and is traditionaly made from shellfish and usually contains cream. This soup is not meant for a nice light lunch with saltines. "Thick" and "rich" are the two words that best describe a bisque.

First, the Mirpois. This is a French term for the genesis of every soup. The French begin by sauteeing celery, carrots, and onion before doing anything else. In Creole cooking, this is called the Holy Trinity but they relieve the carrot and sub-in bell pepper. In Indian cuisine, they use a trio made up of onion, garlic, and ginger. Perhaps its the magic number of three? Perhaps its the Holy Trinity moving us? Whatever it is, it works! I decide to create my mirpois of celery, onion, and garlic. I sauteed these in vegetable oil until translucent. Salt helps this process.

There was no sherry on hand, so I used orange juice to deglaze the pot. (That means to dissolve and scrape up all the little brown carmelized bits stuck to the bottom of the pot.) Then I added some vegetable stock and the 15 pounds of sweet potatoes cut into small cubes. I used some traditional sweet potato spices. Cinnamon, Clove, and Nutmeg. Then I added some brown sugar and maple syrup to balance the spicy clove. I used white pepper....aesthetics. And a litte cayenne pepper to perk it up. (Cayenne pepper goes a LONG way. So unless you're used to using this spice, I would advise adding with your light hand, not your heavy hand.) To give it an aromatic touch, I put 3 bay leaves in the pot (to be removed later.)

After letting this concoction simmer for quite a long time, I pureed the whole thing until is was very smooth. Then I added some cream to give it a little richness and to thin it out. I was left with something that looked like runny mashed potatoes and smelled like sweetpotato pie. But a taste test revealed the true nature of the soup behind the facade of sweet aromas and seeming thickness: A creamy-smooth spicy comfort food that warms your bones. Perfect for this chilly, damp, Indianapolis spring-time weather.