Root Hash & Beer Jelly Chicken
For dinner tonight I made root vegetable hash and beer jelly glazed chicken. The beer jelly glaze was from some "beer jam" I made and canned last fall and spiced up to use as a glaze tonight.
Root Hash & Beer Jelly Glazed Chicken.
The basic recipe for the root hash came from Michel Nischan and includes parsnips, potatoes, carrots, onions, garlic, and sweet potatoes. Roast all of the root vegetables in the oven until they caramelize and soften a bit (but poach the parsnips for 10 minutes before adding them to the roasting pan). Of course you want to salt and pepper everything to taste. Once the vegetables are roasted properly let them cool and then loosely chop everything to a similar size. Then, saute garlic in olive oil and butter until softened, before adding a couple cups of roughly chopped portabello and button mushrooms (I would have preferred morels and/or boletes but didn't have any left). Once the mushrooms are cooked add all of the chopped root vegies to the skillet and saute everything for another 10 minutes or so.
For the chicken thighs, I roasted them as you normally would. But as they were just about to finish in the oven I brushed them with the beer jelly concoction, which included a cup of the beer jam, salt and pepper, red pepper flakes, mustard powder and a pinch of cayenne pepper. The glaze creates a lovely sweet and savory crust on the skin. I'll share the beer jelly recipe sometime. Mostly I use it as a pancake syrup because it so sweet and fruity.
Doc's Draft Pear Hard Apple Cider was the drink of choice tonight.
Musings: Chef vs Cook
People most often refer to me as a chef. That's accurate, but I prefer to call myself a Cook. Chef is a job title, like Manager or Foreman or Shift Supervisor. There are different kinds of jobs that require a chef. There are restaurant chefs, pastry chefs, personal chefs, executive chefs, sous chefs, corporate chefs, Even McDonalds has an Executive Chef, aka the "Senior Director of Culinary Innovation" (does pairing McDonalds with "culinary innovation" seem as oxymoronic to you as it does to me?).
If you graduate from a Culinary School you get a diploma that verifies that you are theoretically qualified to be a chef, not unlike the diploma one gets when he or she graduates from college with a degree in education and teaching, theoretically qualifying him or her to be a teacher. And just as there are good and bad teachers, chefs also can be good or bad, competent or incompetent.
A Cook, on the other hand, is a title that seems more personal. A Cook is a craftsman, a tradesman, at times a composer, and once in a while maybe even an alchemist of sorts. The act of cooking is the act of creation, creating with raw and beautiful materials from the earth.
Being a chef is more about management. A chef's job does of course involve food, but it also requires (if the chef is at all competent) people skills, financial and numbers skills, organizational skills, communication skills, teaching skills, leadership skills and more. The job skills of a good chef are not unlike those of a good CEO. (Mario Batali is, in practical reality, certainly more CEO than cook these days.) I've done that job, being a chef, am pretty good at it and enjoy it.
But being a cook is more about food, in both the literal and figurative sense...about connecting food to people, and that means that it's also about community. Being a cook is like being an artist, in that the act is largely about creation and pleasure. Mostly pleasing or satisfying other people, which in turn is also satisfying to oneself. When you cook, the feedback is immediate; the food is either good, bad or okay, and people have immediate reactions to and opinions on it. I like that.
I think of the Chuckwagon Cooks on the cattle drives of the Old West, feeding hungry and appreciative cowboys, and I think of the Navy Cooks on battleships from WWII until today, feeding hungry and appreciative sailors. (That romantic view goes for the Cooks in all the other branches of the military too. My Dad was in the Navy, and my Granduncle Lester - from whom the original Stumpjack was birthed - was a Cook and Paratrooper in WWII).
Given a choice, I'd rather be a Chuckwagon Cook than a Mario Batali.
Pilot episode complete
The first episode in what will become a series of foraging and cooking videos is finished. Film-maker Josh Kufahl and I are producing the series, "Creative Sustenance". which will highlight wild edibles in Wisconsin. The basic format of each episode will spotlight at least one specific wild edible, with discussion on how to identify the plants, followed by an "in the kitchen" segment where we'll show some ways to prepare our finds at home.
There are a few things that we hope set this series apart from other food and cooking videos, most notably the unique subject matter, but also the high quality production of the video itself. Josh is the owner of his own film production company and he's got mad skills with a camera and a talent for making things look amazing. I'll have his biography up here on the site very soon, so you can read more about his work and travels around the globe. As I write this he is packing to go on location in New Zealand (I of course was thinking that a few episodes in New Zealand, that require my presence, might have been appropriate...all in service to the show, of course). I'm the host of the series. I've got the foraging and woodsman skills, as well as the culinary experience to carry my end of the production.
I'm stoked to say that we've also enlisted the musical talents of our friends John Statz along with Ryan & Jesse Dermody of The Brothers Burn Mountain. John is writing our opening music and BBM have given us permission to use their songs in the production.
We start things off with this episode as we take a cursory look at the milkweed plant, with a couple of really simple recipes that hardly even require any cooking.
Capers
I post a lot of food pics and updates on my personal facebook page that I don't share here. At least that's been my habit up to now. Most of those posts are more informal and certainly briefer than the content I'm used to submitting on the blog. But I suppose if people wanted to see those images along with a bit lengthier supporting text, reproduced here on the blog, I could do that. Let me know what you think (either here or via facebook).
Yesterday made a facebook status update with an image of some bruschetta (left) that I made with limited ingredients we had in the house at the time, including capers. The update sparked some conversation on the merits and edibility of capers. One of my friends described them as tasting "like pickled, salty, raisins. Gross." That got me thinking, because while I enjoy capers now, my initial reaction to them years ago was much the same as that of my friend. Repeated sampling over the years has given me a greater appreciation for the little unopened flower buds, and I now find them indispensable as an ingredient in a number of recipes and dishes. My relationship with capers has followed a path similar to the one I had with anchovies, which I initially disliked rather intensely but now see as a requisite pantry staple.
Wikipedia has a brief, though solid entry on capers, on their biology, environmental requirements, propagation, history and culinary uses: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Caper. Capers have been used for thousands of years, with a few notable ancient Greeks giving the plant due attention, and with allusions to its alleged aphrodisiac qualities also noted by the ancient Hebrews. Interesting stuff, this history of food.
Four different capers from the pantry.
I use capers in pasta dishes, some sauces, bruschetta toppings and other tapas, and of course with fish like salmon, which is a traditional pairing. They offer a nice tart, acidic element to oily fish or rich sauces, as well as a counterbalance of sorts in salads that have strong citrusy or even fruity profiles. If you've tried capers and were initially turned off by them, I'd suggest you not give up yet. Try different varieties and brands (the preserving brine has a lot to do with the flavor, and there are of course as many different brine recipes out there as there are for any other pickled vegetable). Find recipes you like where capers are a key ingredient, and make the recipe with and without their addition to learn what they may contribute.
Capers come in different sizes, with nonpareilies being, I believe, the smallest, most common and most desirable. I've included a couple images of different capers I have in the fridge, including some nasturtium capers I made myself from the seeds of the peppery flowers we grow in our garden. In the image above, from left to right, we have a small group of capers followed by seemingly identical capers from an unknown terroir. The first little bunch were packaged in a small jar, not quite 4 oz worth, and have a very nice, mellow and slightly lemony flavor. The second bunch came from a large, 16 oz. jar I purchased at Whole Foods, and their flavor is quite salty, briney and closer to cheap green olives (or to the description my facebook friend gave capers in general). Both jars were also pretty close in price as I recall. You get what you pay for I suppose.
Next on the plate are caper berries. Capers are the unopened flower buds of the caper plant. If the buds are not picked for use as capers, but are left alone, they will eventually become flowers, which in turn will become a seed-filled caper fruit, or "berry". These caper berries are then picked and processed in much the same way as regular capers. They do, however, have a rather different flavor and texture than their softer predecessors. Caper berries are crunchy. They're filled with crunchy little seeds, and the ones that I've tried have had more of a slightly peppery, citrusy, pickled olive flavor. my favorite way to use caper berries is as a Bloody Mary or Martini garnish. They're perfect for that.
l-r: capers, caperberries, nasturtium capers
Finally, on the far right of the plate, are the pickled nasturtium seeds. These pea-sized seeds make quite an interesting substitute caper. They have an intriguing flavor profile that combines the slight peppery bite of nasturtiums with the sweetness of the sugared brine I made, and a potent, unmistakable flavor of sweet cream butter. I never would have imagined that I'd get the flavor of fresh butter from pickled nasturtium seeds, but it's there in force. Amazing. And now here's where I embarrass myself by admitting that I made the foolish, rookie mistake of not writing down the brine recipe I used to make those nasturtium capers. I don't remember what it was and I kick myself every time I open that jar to pluck a few of the last remaining "capers" from it. I may not ever get that rich butter vibe again (although I'm hoping I get lucky). Always write down your recipes if it's something new you're trying.
New Blogsite
Welcome to the new Creative Sustenance blogsite, which will function as the online headquarters for Creative Sustenance projects, events and information.
Most of the site's activity will take place on the blog page, which may end up becoming the Home page; at this early stage of construction we're not entirely certain what organizational format may be best.
I've imported most of the foraging, gardening and foodie related posts from the older Stumpjack/Creative Sustenance blogsite (stumpjack.com) to this site (that is, all of the posts older than this one). They're relevant to what Creative Sustenance is about and provide some continuity from where we started to where we are now and where we're headed. The older site will remain active, with all of the previous Stumpjack Coffee posts remaining available. That site may also continue to evolve as well.
There are a few pages still in construction (Video, About, Links, Calendar) and those should be up in the coming week. Let us know what you'd be interested in seeing. We'd probably like to see it too.
Every blog post should have at least one image attached to it. This is a pic of a bucket of grapes I got from a friend last fall that I had in the freezer until now. They're about to be mashed, sugared, yeast added and allowed to ferment for a week before the first racking. Doesn't have much to do with this specific blog post...it just looks cool.
Storm damage equals early harvesting
We had a thunderstorm last night, apparently with winds that approached 60mph at times. I love thunderstorms, but this one reeked havoc on the garden, pretty well leveling almost everything and breaking several plants.
I plucked eggplant from plants that had been broken off at the ground, picked sunberries from a bush that was toppled over in its bed, harvested swiss chard that the wind had tangled with turnip greens and pulled a bucket of lettuce that was flattened like it had been ironed. As it was too much for us to store and eat in a timely manner, I gave my parents' half of the booty.
Fortunately no large tree limbs came down, which was the case with many other folks, and the tomatoes took what looks to be only minor damage. Time to clean out the beds to replant and reseed.
An hour's worth of milkweed pods
Here are some young, juicy milkweed pods I harvested in about an hour. While many plants are forming pods a fair number also still have unopened flower buds on them. Don't have time to go into more detail or what we'll be doing with these in the kitchen, but will be sure to share that with you later. For now, just wanted to share a few images.
Milkweed for knee strength? I wish...
Just back from the doctor, where I finally discovered why my knee(s) has been giving me fits for so long. X-rays showed a couple of bone spurs, one almost 2" long and broken, on a knee cap that is not shaped quite as it should be. Might have to get it scoped and cleaned, or just continue to live with the periodic debilitating pain...I'm thinking that the scoping is the way to go. The doctor seemed quite surprised and almost "excited" to have seen something on the x-rays that, he said, was so unusual and that he had never seen before.
So, I decided to buck the "take it easy" route and immediately tramped through a field near my parents' house to pluck a bunch of milkweed flowers along with a handful of tiger lily flower buds from Mom & Dad's place, in order to make a quick breakfast before work.
Simple: Sautee milkweed flower clusters and lily buds in butter with a little sea salt and cracked pepper, add a handful of spinach picked yesterday from the garden, quickly fry a duck egg, slice up a fat red tomato and badaboom badabing, there you go.
I'll write more about milkweed in the days to come. But for now, it's 90° and time for a lengthy soak in a tub of cold water before work. By the way, as far as I know, milkweed sap has absolutely no inherent attributes that may be beneficial to one's knee joints...I just like eating milkweed.Enjoy the day!
Breakfast doesn't get any fresher
It's hot on the lakeshore this morning, 84° before 10:00am. Some of the greens are beginning to bolt, so I cut a handful of sweet spinach and peppery arugula, and went around all of the pots pinching basil flower heads off, before things turn bitter.
I also pulled one nice, 6" or 7" yellow squash, the first of the year, from one of the vines. It was fat and juicy. The zucchini and yellow squash vines are putting out a lot of beautiful yellow flowers now, so I plucked a few of those as well.
With a countertop full of colorful and fresh garden bounty, some big duck eggs, a bowl of fresh peaches Kim picked up the other day, and a bottle of black truffle oil I've been eager to open I decided to make something fun for breakfast.
With two iron skillets heating up I sweated an onion and the spinach stems in butter while crisping a few slices of whole wheat chia seed bread I made the other day in some of the truffle oil (as soon as I opened the bottle - really a metal can - an earthy truffle aroma filled the room...happiness!). When the bread had browned I sauteed the zucchini flowers in the same skillet, added the handful of spinach and the sliced yellow squash to the other pan and began to toss until the spinach wilted.
Once the vegetables were ready I pulled them from the skillet and added some large chunks I cut from one of the peaches. Then, a little more truffle oil into the pan to fry the duck eggs. Duck egg yolks are so large that I cook them over-easy and let the yolks harden just a little around the edges, otherwise our plates are swimming in yolk when we cut into them. We finished by sprinkling some of the purple Thai basil flower heads on top.
There you go...savory with a little sweet, an underbelly of earthy truffle, fresh greens picked minutes before, and crusty bread. And coffee, of course.
Making time for breakfast again
I decided that regardless of how weary I feel lately or how little spare time I seem to currently have I am going to make time for breakfast again, and I mean the kind of breakfast I enjoy making, something with a little punch.
So, this morning's sustenance included a couple of duck eggs sauteed over-easy in pork fat and butter, on a bed of mustard greens and thistle stems sauteed with lardons and diced ramps. Simple, quick and good for the spirit.
Now to finish transplanting some herbs and hot peppers we picked up yesterday.