Zucchini, Peas and White Fish in Thai Red Curry Sauce

We were hot and hungry. We wanted quick and simple comfort food in the stunning heat of summer, something seasonal and light but spicy, done in 10 minutes, 15 tops. With the last of the shelling peas, young zucchini, a local white fish called hake, and Thai basil in my garden that needed pinching, I figured I could throw together a quick curry. My pantry provided the rest: coconut milk, fish sauce, raw cane sugar, bottled Thai red curry paste and some of its ingredients to give it oomph. The ingredients for red curry are no mystery and are attainable. I just didn’t have them all on hand and didn’t feel like venturing into the heat to find them. I thought the bottled red curry paste was a little flat, so I added dried lime leaves, lime juice and a little ground hot red pepper. I have ginger (though not Thai ginger called galangal) and lemongrass growing but not ready to eat. Otherwise, I could have done the curry from scratch.

This curry couldn’t be simpler or more immediate. You can prepare the vegetables while the curry paste and coconut milk are simmered to the point of getting acquainted, so to speak. Other seasonings are added and then the vegetables, in order of the length of time it takes to cook them (here, peas first, then cubed zucchini). After a couple of minutes, the fish (or shellfish) is added to poach gently for a couple of minutes and the mélange is finished with a handful of Thai basil leaves that wilt almost immediately. I like to serve this on rice noodles or bean threads, which soak in hot water while the curry is being cooked. Rice works too but you have to start it before everything else.  

Zucchini, Peas and White Fish in Thai Red Curry Sauce

1 14-oz can coconut milk (light is fine and is what I used)

2 tbsp bottled Thai red curry paste

Optional or alternatively: chopped lemongrass, lime leaves, galangal (Thai ginger), hot red pepper (i.e., the ingredients of Thai red curry)

2 tbsp Thai fish sauce

2 tbsp brown sugar (I use Demerara or organic raw cane sugar)

1 c shelled peas

1 small zucchini, cut into ¼ to1/3-inch cubes

½ lb white fish (cod, hake etc.) or raw shrimp or even scallops

Optional: soy sauce or salt or additional fish sauce

Optional: red pepper

Optional:  freshly squeezed lime juice

¼ c Thai basil leaves or to taste

Rice noodles, bean threads, or rice

Place half the can of coconut milk in a large sauté pan and whisk in the curry paste to blend well. Add the remaining coconut milk and the optional extra curry seasonings if using them and blend well. Simmer for 5 minutes. Add the fish sauce, brown sugar, and peas. Simmer for 2 minutes and add the zucchini. Simmer for 2-4 minutes or until the zucchini softens just slightly, then add the fish. Cook for 2-3 minutes until the fish is cooked through. Taste the broth and add something salty, something hot or something citrusy. This will largely depend on the flavors of the Thai curry paste or its ingredients. Add the Thai basil leaves to wilt and serve immediately over rice noodles, bean threads or rice. Note that the rice noodles and bean threads can be soaked in boiled water while the curry is being assembled and will be ready at the same time.  Rice needs a longer cooking time and should be started while you assemble the ingredients.

Read Full Post »

Red Chard and Golden Raisins with Orecchiette

I was like one of my kids separating stew on his dinner plate into identifiable parts. A two-pound bag of mixed chard cuttings from our CSA – different sizes and colors – was simply not getting stewed in one go. And the package was too voluminous to fit into the fridge, so it had to be done.  My personal rule when returning from our CSA is to prepare the veggies in order based on volume. This week, 1.5 cubic feet of chard and a 3-foot-tall bunch of fennel competed to be cut down to size, both for cooking in the moment and for meals later in the week.

I patiently sorted the chard leaves by color and size, intermingling white with yellow, and piling pink, orange and red with each other. This was like doing laundry. I would rather keep the reds separated from the whites. I was teased all winter for wearing only pink turtlenecks after my husband tended the wash. And I am secretly pleased that he has to endure the pink sheets and towels. (What was he thinking?)

Anyway, the reason for the separation was not just a matter of color. The red chard stems are different in shape and size from the others and the leaves and stems have a more mineral-like flavor. They’re more like beet greens, no surprise, since chard and beets are in the same family. The stems of the lighter chard, including the pink ones, are similar to white. (The mix is called “rainbow chard” or sometimes “bright lights,” market-speak for their multicolored appearance.) They have broad, flat stems that when large are cut lengthwise into matchsticks (which I did). I cut the smaller red stems into dice and cooked them back-to-back with the leaves. (That 1.5 cubic feet wilted down into 3-4 pint containers!)  First I cooked the leaves in the water that clung to them after washing, and then the diced stems in the remaining liquid. I stored the remaining liquid (less than ½ cup) with the stems so that I could use it in whatever dish I decided to make from the chard. Waste not want not, as they say.

What I made was a last minute pasta dish, using orecchietta pasta, translated as “little ears,” little cups that catch the added ingredients. While the pasta was boiling, I used some of the hot liquid to soak golden sultana raisins, sautéed the previously cooked chard and stems in olive oil and plenty of garlic from our garden, and toasted slivered almonds that were going to substitute for the traditional pine nuts. I used the chard cooking liquid to moisten the lightly salted pasta.

The combination of the raisins and the mineral taste and texture of the chard stems made my husband speculate that I’d put bacon in the pasta. (Or was it a red bag in a white laundry?) While that seemed to be a curious comment, there is something special, and slightly unexpected, about this combination, which is actually a Sicilian classic.  

Read Full Post »

Summery Cabbage Stew

Some dishes that we associate with the dark days of winter from storage crops become transformed when made with the season’s first harvests, becoming lighter, more flavorful and maybe even more nutritious. I think of minestrone from early carrots, spring onions and tiny zucchini. Or fresh pea soup made in the style of its dried split pea counterpart.

Here’s another, a light cabbage stew from an early harvest. To accompany the small cone-headed cabbages we get from our CSA – perfect for quartering into individual portions – I used spring onions and first-of-the-season, tomatoes, fresh-dug potatoes and multi-colored carrots along with a small handful of thyme from my garden. Stewed gently with homemade chicken stock and white wine, this made a simple supper served with spicy hot mustard and a light but flavorful chicken sausage. In the winter, I would stew a spicy pork sausage – andouille or chorizo — with the vegetables, which imparts incredible depth to the liquid. However, served lightly here, the delicate flavors of the vegetables themselves are allowed to shine. 

Summery Cabbage Stew

1 small cone-headed or spherical green cabbage (about 1-1½ lb)

2 spring onions, sliced

2 tsp olive oil

6 carrots, sliced if small, diced if large

2 small tomatoes, diced

4 small potatoes, quartered

4-6 sprigs of fresh thyme

4-6 black peppercorns (or freshly ground pepper to taste)

1½ c white wine

1 c chicken broth, preferably homemade

Pre-cooked or dried sausage (optional)

Remove any tough wrapper leaves from the cabbage and set them aside for another use. Quarter the cabbage if small (or cut into wedges of large) and slice out the core.

Slowly sauté the onion in oil until just translucent, about 2 minutes at most. Place the cabbage wedges on top, and add the carrots, tomatoes and potatoes, then the wine and broth. Bring the stew to a simmer on top of the stove, cover tightly, and let cook slowly until everything is tender, about 40 minutes. Check periodically to make sure the stew is simmering, not boiling. If you want to cook smoked sausage with the stew, cut it in chunks and add it part way through the cooking process. (Adding it earlier could dry out the sausage. Adding it later doesn’t allow it to contribute to the broth.)

Read Full Post »

Preserved Spiced Cherries

Another in a series in which I comment on M.F.K. Fisher’s 1986 annotations of Catherine Plagemann’s 1967 Fine Preserving, layering past and present, research, experimentation and outright opinion. This project is a blast.

This was last year’s prize sweet cherry discovery and I’m surprised that M.F.K. Fisher didn’t pick up on it when she annotated Ms. Plagemann’s delightful volume. Taking the author’s advice, I waited several months before cracking open a jar, so of course it would be a whole year before I could make it again and would want to write about it. Every time I serve the cherries, my husband comments on how exceptionally good they are. And he’s right. 

 Strong and syrupy, the cherries have a lingering taste from the addition of cider vinegar and the spices – cinnamon, allspice and cloves. The most interesting characteristic is the plumpness of the whole cherries after they’re canned.  It’s partly because I used large sweet cherries and partly because the ridiculous amount of sugar, coupled with the cherry juice and vinegar, produces a gel in 5-10 minutes, if that.  Therefore they don’t get overcooked. 

Plagemann thought of this as jam, but it’s a little loose for that. We spooned it over ice cream and sorbet and served it with crepes and pancakes. I bet the cherries would make a swell topping for a custard tartlet. I’ll let you know next year.

Spiced Cherries adapted from Catherine Plagemann, Fine Preserving

2 lbs sweet dark red cherries (5-6 c pitted)

4 c granulated cane sugar

1 c cider vinegar

½ tsp ground cinnamon

¼ tsp ground allspice

¼ tsp ground cloves

Prepare 6-7 eight-ounce jars for canning.  Place a saucer in the freezer for testing the gel.

Wash and pit the cherries, leaving them as whole as possible.

Place the remaining ingredients in a large wide saucepan and bring just to a boil over medium-high heat. Add the cherries and stir. Cook the cherries at a medium boil until the liquid tests for gel, about 5-7 minutes.

Divide the cherries among the prepared canning jars and pour in the liquid. (I made 2 jars of just syrup.) Carefully insert a spoon handle or similar object in the jars to release any air bubbles without breaking the cherries. Process the jars in a water bath canner for 10 minutes after the water comes to a boil. Turn off the heat, remove the canner lid and let sit for 5 minutes before removing to a counter to cool undisturbed.

Makes approximately 5-6 eight-ounce jars.

Read Full Post »

Seasonal Tart: Spinach, Dill and Ricotta

I love an excess of a single ingredient that allows me to experiment. Watch what you wish for! Opening day of our CSA season brought 4 pounds of spinach and 8 large heads of lettuce into the kitchen, not to mention a pound of baby bok choy and ½ pound of arugula. All those greens were too voluminous for my fridge. So we started with the easy task: eating spinach right away and wilting the rest to reduce the volume.

I had made delicious homemade ricotta for a big party last weekend, and combined it with lemon zest and herbs. I used the leftovers for this dilly spinach tart, which we ate alongside a lettuce and arugula salad with plenty of snipped herbs and a sprinkling of feta cheese. The combination of young herbs and the season’s first lettuces is magical. A suitably spring-like supper.

Spinach and Dill Ricotta Tart

1 sheet frozen puff pastry

3 eggs

1 c ricotta cheese

¼ – 1/3 c milk or cream if needed

1 c cooked spinach, squeezed dry and chopped

1 tsp lemon zest

2-3 tbsp chopped dill

Optional: ½ tsp salt

Optional: 1 tbsp mixed chopped herbs (lovage, tarragon, chives)

Thaw the puff pastry for about ½ hour. Roll it out slightly and place it in a 9-inch tart pan with a removable bottom, Run the rolling pin over the top of the rim to cut the dough neatly and save the scraps for another use.

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.

Lightly beat the eggs in a medium bowl. Add the ricotta, combining well. Add milk or cream to thin the mixture if it seems too thick. The amount will depend on the consistency of your ricotta.

Add the remaining ingredients, stirring to combine well, and pour the mixture into the prepared tart shell, smoothing the top.

Bake for 45 minutes, or until the tart is puffed and golden. (It will fall as it cools.) Let the tart cool for 10 minutes before unmolding and serving.

Read Full Post »

Sea Scallops with Orange “Aigre-doux” and Chives

I have a new favorite cookbook. Ha. I know I could say that every week. This new book of mine is titled The Preservation Kitchen, written by Chicago chef Paul Virant. Among his many accomplishments is a brush with Christine Ferber, the famed French doyenne of the jam kingdom (and maybe the entire preserving kingdom) and a legend who creates her own terroir. One of the sections of the book covers so-called “aigre-doux,” which means sour and sweet in French, or as we would reverse it, sweet and sour. (Says something about our priorities or bad habits?)  Aigre-doux is a complex sauce. It has the power to transform food experience because of its complexity and its acidic character.  Wine mellows vinegar and sugar, and flavors flow from vegetables and fruits as well as herbs and spices. Ferber has written a book about aigre-doux and terrines, not translated from the French. I haven’t read it, so I am relying on Virant.

I’ve made sweet and sour sauces before, and love my kick-ass caponata agridolce (the Italian version of sweet and sour eggplant and other veggies). But it never dawned on me to can an aigre-doux in a water bath, the chief way I preserve vegetables and fruits in pickles and jams. Wow. Now what?  Brave new world.  There are so many great ideas in this book, I hardly knew where to start.

Since we’re in one of those transition periods between growing seasons, I find that I’m combining the citrus of winter with the first vegetables of spring, the over-wintered storage vegetables with young spring greens. I therefore was inspired to make three citrus-based aigre-doux from Virant’s book. He basically cold-packs and pickles citrus segments in a combination of wine, vinegar and sugar, adding a touch of salt and some spices or herbs. You could just refrigerate the mixture to cure or process it in a water bath canner. I did both. I made 2 pints of mandarin orange aigre-doux in red wine, 2 in white wine (both with peppercorns), and a third with Meyer lemon, thyme and bay leaf. This was a few weeks ago. I normally would wait a month or two before eating but I checked the orange segments and they were wine-colored all the way through, so I figured we could sample.

To turn aigre-doux into a sauce, Virant suggests pureeing the orange segments with the liquid or whisking in a “knob of butter.” The latter is basically a red “beurre blanc,” which involves whisking tiny bits of cold butter into a warm sauce base, emulsifying it. The temperature of the butter is important since it will otherwise melt into the liquid instead of emulsifying. After I pureed the orange segments with the liquid, I decided that the small bits of orange membrane weren’t contributing much. So for the final version, I strained the puree and made a modified beurre blanc, with less butter than typical since I was serving it with greens as well as scallops.

Finally, to get dinner on the table, I assembled gorgeous leaves of red Boston lettuce on a plate (I loved the flowing red tips), and dressed them lightly with aigre-doux liquid (no oranges or butter). On went locally fished sea scallops that had been seared in a little butter and olive oil, and a few spoons full of my version of beurre blanc. Sprinkled with chive blossoms, snippets of garlic chives, and thinly sliced organic kumquats, this was a beautiful and delicious spring supper.

Since I had a little sauce and orange segments left over, I used them in a side salad of cubed beets and kumquats. Pretty and flavorful.

So, what would I do differently in making the aigre-doux? While I thought the result was excellent, the recipe was poorly written for canning since it called for keeping a vinegar solution hot while you performed other tasks, like preparing the jars. Vinegar used in canning and pickling is a major deterrent to bacteria, and it loses its potency when heated. I reduced Virant’s recipe to make 2 versus 5 pints, He runs a restaurant so he can handle volume and I experiment in small batches. I did stick with pints but in the future, I would consider using half-pint jars, so that a single jar can service a single meal. Since I was experimenting with three aigre-doux mixtures as mentioned above, I had all ingredients and the canning kettle and jars ready to go and made them quickly one after the other so that six jars could be processed at once.  Here’s the recipe for the orange aigre-doux with red wine. The white wine version used a fruity Austrian white wine and champagne vinegar.

Mandarin Orange Aigre-Doux adapted from Paul Virant

For 2 pints:

4 mandarin oranges, preferably organic and seedless (2 for each pint jar)

1 2/3 c red table wine (I used a California merlot)

2/3 c red wine vinegar

1/3 c sugar

½ tsp Kosher salt

2 tsp black peppercorns (1 tsp per jar)

Prepare the jars for water bath canning by heating them to the boiling point in a large kettle with a rack on the bottom. This takes about 20-30 minutes.  Place a small pan of water on the stove, which you will later use to sterilize the lids and soften their rubber rings.

Meanwhile, peel the oranges and separate them into segments, removing the excess pith.

Combine the wine, vinegar, sugar, and salt in a saucepan.

When the jars are ready, turn off the heat under the canning kettle, and remove the jars to the counter. Add the peppercorns and orange segments to the jars.

Place the saucepan with the wine mixture over medium-high heat and bring just to a boil, stirring to dissolve the sugar and salt.  Transfer the liquid to a heat-proof pitcher or measuring cup with a spout, and pour it over the orange segments, leaving ½-inch of head room. Insert a chopstick into the jars to release any air bubbles, and wipe off the rims.

Meanwhile, bring the small pan of water to a boil, turn off the heat and add the jar lids.  Remove the lids and dry them, place them on the jars and screw on the bands.

Place the filled jars in the canning kettle, lid on, and bring the water to a boil. Process for 15 minutes after the water returns to a boil. Turn off the heat, remove the lid and let the jars sit for 5 minutes in the water before removing them to a counter to sit, undisturbed, until cool.

Read Full Post »

Apricot Almond Cake

Simple cakes that can be eaten as is with seasonal fruit are very appealing to a person who has no sweet tooth (me).  I call them “amiable cakes” and I’ve posted a few examples in the past. This one, from Nigel Slater’s brilliant book, Appetite, is one of the best. (He’s a hoot – check out his column in The Guardian or his other books). I made this cake at Easter and served it with terrific strawberries from California. I don’t often buy fruit that typically grows here but is out-of-season, but these babies were irresistible. 

The cake has a substantial texture, almost chewy, and sparky flavor from the tartness of the lemon zest and the sweetness of the apricots. The texture is the result of ground almonds and finely chopped dried apricots. I have made the cake numerous times, and I’ve decided that I like the almonds crunchy so I don’t grind them to a paste or use pre-ground almond meal. Same with the apricots. However, since the ingredients contain no leavening agent, it is important to cream the butter and sugar until very light, and combine the ingredients in batches. Those instructions don’t make the recipe hard, but don’t expect a throw-it-in-a-pan approach or you’ll get a leaden cake.

Apricot Almond Cake adapted from Nigel Slater

¾-1 c blanched slivered almonds (enough to yield ¾ c ground – see below)

2/3 c all-purpose flour

1 scant c (4 oz) soft dried apricots

1 lemon, preferably organic and/or unwaxed

1 c softened butter

1¼ c sugar

4 jumbo eggs, lightly beaten

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Line the bottom of a 9-inch cake pan with parchment paper and lightly butter the sides.

Grind the almonds in a food processor until they resemble coarse meal. Do not allow them to turn to paste. Measure ¾ cup. Add the flour and stir to combine well. Set aside.

Grind the apricots in the food processor until they are finely chopped. Stop before they turn to paste.

Grate the zest from the lemon and squeeze the juice. Combine the zest with the almonds and the juice with the apricots.

Beat the butter and sugar with an electric mixer until very light and fluffy, about 5 minutes. Add the lightly beaten eggs to the butter and sugar mixture, a little at a time, continuing to beat it.

With a large spoon or spatula, fold in the almond and flour mixture in three batches. Fold in the apricots and spread the batter in the prepared cake pan, smoothing the top.

Bake for about 35 minutes or until lightly browned and firm to the touch. Test with a fine metal skewer; if it comes out clean, the cake is done. If not, bake a little longer.

Read Full Post »

Easter Egg Hunt: Quest of the Holy Quail

We have an annual Easter egg hunt at our house, for those who are actually children and the virtual child in each adult. The competition is fierce because a Golden Egg (leafed with real gold) is displayed in nearly plain sight by hiders who collapse laughing at what seems obvious to us but is elusive to the seekers. It sometimes takes a couple of hours to find the prize. We have five or six golden eggs in our cabinet, won in past years by family members who want to keep them safe. Visiting families cart their treasures home.   

Usually we use chicken eggs but this year, we used a diminutive quail egg from nearby Griggstown Quail Farm, which raises a great variety of poultry besides its namesake. The egg was tiny, a little over an inch tall, which made it all the more challenging to find. Even though its gleaming surface could be seen in the sunlight, nestled in a stone wall, that is, if you figured out which part of the wall to search.

The drill for making a gold-leafed egg is the same each year: pierce the polar ends of an egg, carefully blow out the whites and yolks into a bowl, paint the eggshell with adhesive size for metal leaf (a kind of glue) and let the surface dry for a few minutes until just tacky. Then apply sheets of real gold leaf (or copper or silver leaf), patting the precious material in place and using a small brush to clean up the loose pieces.

Read Full Post »

Dark Days 18: Oxtail Stock and Borscht

A continuing series on weekly meals that use sustainable, organic, local and ethical food during the challenging winter months. For more information, go here to the DDC section of Not Dabbling in Normal’s website: Dark Days Challenge.

In which I discover a new meat stock, which promises to be as versatile as it is delicious…

I don’t know what got into me when I bought oxtails from a local organic dairy farm. I bought only a pound, three slices of varied sizes. It takes a while to make this stock, though it’s mostly untended, but in order to get enough meat for a meal, you probably need about 4 pounds. That’s what most recipes call for if you’re serving about four adults. I went back to the farm for more but they had sold out for the season. As it turned out, it didn’t matter, since I parlayed my three little pieces into 2+ quarts of delicious stock using only local organic raw ingredients, local wine and homemade chicken stock. And the meat that I harvested was plenty for my purpose: delicious beet and beef borscht.

My approach to this traditional stew is not authentic, I’m sure, but I really don’t know what is authentic since dishes like this are generic and personal at the same time. Since the oxtail stock was incredibly flavorful, I wanted it to shine through. So I cooked grated beets in the stock and prepared the other ingredients separately, combining them and the shredded oxtail meat at the end. This approach gave a freshness to the dish that’s appropriate to the warming season.  During the dark days, green garnishes are hard to come by, except for the beginning of spring when we can forage bittercress from the lawn and garden. So that’s what I sprinkled on top. We ate this for a few days in a row and it got better and better.

Borscht

3 medium-large beets

1 medium onion, chopped

Vegetable oil

1 clove garlic, minced

6 c liquid, combination of 4 c meat stock and 2 c water (see below for oxtail stock)

2 waxy potatoes

2 carrots, peeled and sliced

2 c sliced cabbage

Meat from oxtails (amount variable)

Optional herb garnish

Grate the beets and set aside. Slowly cook the chopped onion in vegetable oil until soft. Add the garlic and cook until the garlic becomes aromatic. Add the grated beets to the pot and stir to combine. Add the liquid, bring to a boil and simmer for about 25 minutes or until the beets are tender.

Meanwhile, place the potatoes in a pot and cover with cold water. Bring to a boil, reduce heat and lightly boil the potatoes until tender, about 20 minutes. Remove the potatoes to cool and add the carrots, cooking them until crisp-tender. Drain and reserve the carrots. Cube the cooked potatoes.

Saute the cabbage in a little vegetable oil, browning it lightly. Add a little liquid from the beet mixture, cover the pan and let the cabbage cook until crisp tender.

Just before serving, combine all of the ingredients and cook for about 5 minutes to combine flavors. Serve garnished with optional herbs.

Oxtail Stock (for 2 quarts)

1 lb oxtails

2 carrots, cut into 3” pieces

1/2 c peeled celeriac cubes

1/3 c white wine

1 onion, quartered

4 c chicken stock

Water (about 3 cups)

1 tsp salt

Preheat the oven to 300 degrees. Slice some of the outer fat from the oxtail. Render the fat in a small, heavy Dutch oven (e.g., Le Creuset enameled cast iron covered pot) over medium low heat. Add the oxtails to the pot in one layer and sear them over medium to medium-high heat, to brown them on all sides. Turn down the heat if the fat starts to burn. The browning process will take about 20 minutes in total. About halfway through, add the carrots and celeriac to the pot and brown them also.

When the meat and vegetables are browned, remove them to a plate and pour off excess fat. Deglaze the pan with white wine and let it cook down a minute. Return the meat and vegetables to the pot, add the onion, and pour in the stock, water and salt. Bring to a simmer on top of the stove. Cover the pot with foil and place the lid on top, taking care to seal the pot well. Place the pot in the oven for 10 minutes at 300 degrees. Turn the heat down to 225 degrees and cook for 2 hours. Check the pot occasionally to make sure that the liquid is not boiling.

Remove the pot from the oven and set it aside to cool. When cool, refrigerate the stock. Remove any fat that solidifies on top before using.

Read Full Post »

Seafood Chili

This is the season of the dried bean. Soups, stews, chilis and chowders, and even a few salads and sides have benefitted from the addition of these nutritious legumes. That’s how this seafood chili originated. I had cooked the last of Rancho Gordo Yellow Indian Woman beans that we brought back from the famed San Francisco Farmers Market, and I thought that their color, size and flavor would complement a seafood chili. I rescued organic yellow and red peppers from the local market’s markdown bin and used up the odd amounts of stocks and broths – including the bean broth of course – as the liquid.  The chili base can be made ahead, which improves its flavor. The seafood goes in at the last minute.

As an accompaniment, I “toasted” whole corn tortillas in the oven with a little olive oil and salt, and cut them into quarters for scooping up the delicious chili.

Seafood Chili

One or two ¼-inch thick slices salt pork or bacon, but into ¼-inch dice (1/3 c)

Splash of water

1 large onion, chopped

2 cloves garlic, chopped

1 red Bell pepper, chopped

1 yellow Bell pepper, chopped

1 tsp whole cumin seed

1 tbsp paprika

½ tsp cayenne pepper

1/8 tsp ground cloves

1/8 tsp ground allspice

1 pint homemade tomato sauce (or 1 large can peeled whole Italian tomatoes, buzzed in blender)

1-2 c combination of chicken stock, fish stock, bean broth and water

1 c cooked red or yellow beans (I used Rancho Gordo Indian Yellow Woman Beans)

½ lb bay scallops or sea scallops, quartered

½ lb whole fresh medium shrimp, peeled, deveined and roughly chopped

Salt and red pepper

Cilantro

Slowly render the salt pork or bacon in a little water and cook until crisp. Spoon off all but one tablespoonful of fat. (You can remove the brown bits and add them later or keep them in the pot.) Add the onion and cook until translucent. Add the garlic and peppers and cook until the peppers start to soften. Add the spices and stir to combine.  Add the tomatoes and chosen liquid and simmer for 20-25 minutes. Add the beans and cook for 15 minutes. The chili can be made ahead to this point, which improves its flavor. When ready to serve, bring the chili to a simmer and add the seafood, cooking for only for a couple of minutes. Set aside to cool slightly. Adjust seasonings. Serve garnished with cilantro.

Tortilla Crisps

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Place corn tortillas on a baking pan, Brush lightly with olive oil or other vegetable oil, and sprinkle with salt. Cook until lightly browned on one side, 3-4 minutes, and flip, cooking just for another minute until crisp but not overly brown.

Read Full Post »