Aquavit: My go-to quaff

I've been a fan of this Scandinavian spirit since Jean Sue, my late Viking-spirited spouse, introduced me to it. I've been a fan of it ever since, fortified in my love of it on each trip I've made to Norway. It has more akin to gin than vodka, because while flavors are sometimes added to vodka after distillation, herbs and spices are incorporated into aquavit during distillation. Where gin must contain juniper, with other flavorings optional, the required flavor in aquavit is caraway.

I wrote a piece last winter about an exhibition about Scandinavian alcohol traditions, especially squavit, that has been at the Swedish American History Museum in Philadelphia. But hurry up, the show closes Sept. 17.

In case you can't make it, here's the article on the exhibit I wrote for the Philadelphia Inquirer:

Aquavit gets a star turn at th Swedish Amerian Historidal Museum in Philly

It's Goose Season

Goose bumps accentuated after brief poaching

There's a reason why we associate a roast goose with the holiday season, even if we don't make it much anymore: after feeding on the remains of the field after harvest in medieval Europe the geese would be heavy with rich meat and fat, reaching optimum weight for rendering fat and roasting in early winter.

Don't be afraid of the fat. Goose fat has half the saturated fat of butter, and much of the remaining fat is monounsaturated, the same lipid that makes olive oil the healthy choice (at least when consumed in moderation).

Most of the year you'll only be able to find frozen goose, which is fine. Just make sure it's completely thawed (it can take two days in the refrigerator) before beginning the cooking process. Around holiday time, if you have a good poultry dealer or a butcher who takes special orders, you might be able to find a fresh killed goose. The rendered fat by the way, can be used wherever you would use lard and, in many cases, butter, even in pastries for savory dishes. Giblets can be used to make stock.

Here's my version of roast goose, which owes part of its technique to the Chinese way of preparing Peking Duck, where a quick poaching and then air drying promotes a crispy skin and rendering of excess fat during cooking. There's no need to prick the skin during the cooking process (you'll do that before cooking), but you will have to tend to the bird as it roasts to remove fat as it cooks and keep it basted.

ROAST GOOSE

Ingredients:

8-12 pound goose
Large apple (any variety), quartered
Large onion, quartered
Salt, pepper

Directions:

1. Remove and reserve giblets for stock and other uses. Do not rinse bird. Remove all loose fat from the bird and reserve for rendering, to be used when needed for frying potatoes, etc.
2. Bring a large stock pot two-thirds full of water to a boil.
3. While the water heats use your fingers to loosen the area between the skin and the flesh of the breast to separate them as best as you can. Then prick goose all over with a sharp skewer or similar tool, being careful to pierce only the skin and fat underneath, not the flesh.
4. Immerse the goose in the boiling water. Few stock pots can accommodate a whole goose, so put the bird in neck first and allow to poach for 60-90 seconds. Then remove and reverse, re-immersing the bird feet first for another 60-90 seconds. Remove to a rack over a half-sheet pan. When cool place the goose, uncovered, in the refrigerator for a minimum of overnight. You can safely leave it in for up to two days, which will create and even crispier goose.
5. On cooking day, preheat oven to 450-degrees F. Rub goose inside and out with salt and pepper, then stuff with quartered apple and onion.
6. Cook goose on a rack in a roasting pan at 450 for 20-30 minutes breast side up. Lower heat to 350.
7. Remove the bird from the oven and transfer it to a rack atop another pan (half-sheet pans work well). Drain the excess fat from the pan (a bulb baster makes this easier) and reserve for other uses after straining. Return the bird to the roasting rack and pan, basting it with remaining pan juices. (You may be more skillful than me and not require a second rack and pan for this process, but I find it's easier this way.)
8. Repeat the fat removal and basting process every half hour until the bird is done. The goose is cooked when juices run yellowish rather than pinkish when the thigh joint is pierced with a sharp thin knife or fork. Or take a temperature reading from the thigh meat: it's done at 170 degrees F. Total cooking time will be 2 to 3-1/2 hours, depending on the size of the goose.
9. Remove goose to another rack and pan, allowing to cool under a foil tent before carving.
10. While the bird cools you can make a pan juice reduction. Place empty pan over stove burners on medium, add a quarter to half a cup of water, stock or white wine (riesling is ideal, but any dry white works) and scrape bits (fond) from bottom of pan. Continue to reduce over medium heat by about half, adding herbs to taste if you like.

Another Composed Salad

After spending a month in Norway this summer (I just got back last week), I was struck by how frequently I saw a quintessential American ingredient: corn. Not on the cob, though. Kernels would appear in mixed salads, as would Asian-style baby corn ears.

I used some kernels from fresh corn the other day in a composed salad for dinner. I placed sliced avocado on a bed of lettuce (well, endive). Over that base I sprinkled the corn kernels, a little bit of chopped red onion and chopped mildly hot red pepper, dressing with a tiny bit of olive oil and juice from a freshly squeezed lime, finishing with couple twists of the pepper mill and two pinches of Maldon salt for crunch. Wonderful summer meal.

Pickled Red Onion

I'm a fan of just about anything pickled. Last Thursday we met some friends at Resurrection Ale House in Philadelphia where they've got a great pickle plate as an appetizer, all house-made pickles, and each with different flavorings. The watermelon pickles, for example, weren't those sugary, gelatinous monstrosities you find in jars at Amish atalls. Instead, these were barely sweet, with wih a hint of cardomom. The plate also included some nice beet slices, bread-and-butter pickles (again, not too sweet) and one or two others I can't remember.

People think it takes a lot of effort and/or time to create pickles. It ain't necessarily so. A Scandinavian style cucumber pickle is just the veggie plus sugar and vinegar and can be made after lunch and ready for an early dinner. Even just letting them sit in the fridge for an hour will result in a great flavor.

Sunday evening I took half of a beautiful red onion I bought at that day's Headhouse Farmers' Market to my mandoline, producing as thin slices as possible. I put about half a cup of vinegar in pan, added no more than half cup white sugar and stirred over medium heat until the sugar melted. I then poured the liquid over the onions (in a non-reactive bowl, i.e., not aluminum, please), covered with plastic wrap and stuck it in the fridge.

The next day they were a tremendous accompaniment to some low-fat cheese on a composed salad plate. Today they went with some pickled herring.

What, did I hear, is a composed salad? Just what it sounds like. The antithesis of a mixed salad. All your components are arranged on a plate as you see fit: some can be laid one atop the other, others you might want along the side. Doesn't matter: whatever suits your taste and eye. A well composed composed salad has lots of eye appeal and can bring out the artist in us.

A Fat You Can Love

One of my favorite non-fruity fruits is the avocado. And you can do a lot more with it than make gaucamole.

A couple of weeks ago I picked up some gorgeous "dry" sea scallops at Wegman's in Cherry Hill (because they were on sale for $11.99/pound, about three bucks cheaper than usual, and decided to use them with Hass avocado (as opposed to the Caribbean version, sometimes called a Florida avocado or Flavocado).

Avocados are high in fat, so they are hardly a low calorie food. But its fat is largely monosaturated, like olive oil, so other than the calories it provides excellent nutrition.

I decided to do a classic summer dish that requires no cooking: ceviche.

I quartered the large scallops (one-quarter pound) and let them marinate for half an hour (no more, and you'll get mush) in the juice of two limes. I cut up some scallions (though just about any allium will do), chopped some cilantro, diced a couple tablespoons' worth of red bell pepper. I prepped the small, ripe avocado and cut it into small slices. The scallops and veggies were mixed together with some everything lime zest, salt (use kosher or, if you have it, Maldon salt for crunch), and a sprinkling of cayenne powder.

This recipe serves one. Simply multiply for additional servings.

A few words about scallops:

"Dry" scallops are worth the extra money you'll pay versus the normal or "wet" scallop. The latter are mixed with an additive encourages the scallop to retain water; this means the boat can stay at sea longer and the scallop has a longer shelf life. But it also means you're paying for the water, which not only dilutes the flavor but makes them impossible to sauté to obtain browning if you're pan frying or grilling. The "dry" scallops cost more because they contain less water; it also means that they are always fresher than the "wet" scallop and more flavorful. This is a case where spending more gets you more.

All scallops, wet or dry, usually come with a tough tendon attached to the side. No harm in eating it, but it's more elegant to trim it off before preparing any scallop recipe.

Another Chickpea Experiment

With my stock of chickpeas replenished, and a surplus of veggies in the fridge's bin, I came up with a tasty ragout for dinner last night.

Started out by briefly sauteeing three fresh wild garlic heads in a minimum of olive oil. (The fresh garlic came courtesy of forager extraordinaire Sam Consylman, who was selling them at Livengood's stall at the South & Passyunik market Tuesday afternoon.) After the sliced garlic turned translucent over medium heat I added two small zucchini cut in fork-sized chunks (purchased from Rineer's at Rittenhouse Market Saturday), turned up the heat a notch, and cooked until they turned slightly brown. At that point I added half a medium diced yellow bell pepper; after another minute half a chopped hothouse tomato (seeded), a quarter cup of water (how much water to add is a judgment call, based on the choice and state of the veggies), seasonings (salt, pepper, oregano) and three-quarters cup of cooked, drained chickpeas went into the mix. Heat reduced to medium-low, covered, and cooked for about 10 minutes or so until thoroughly heated. I uncovered and turned the heat to high to drive off most, but not all, of the remaining liquid.

Served in a soup bowl, it was quite filling, tasty and satisfying.

It's an infinitely variable recipe depending upon the vegetables available and the herbs and spices to which you are partial. As the summer harvest progresses I'll be trying it again with other veggies.

My Favorite Bean

It's the chickpea, a.k.a. garbanzo bean, a.k.a. ceci. And I found a new application for it this week: in place of pasta.

I simply made a sauce (in this case, canned diced tomatoes spiked with various Italian seasonings), heated up some frozen meatballs in the liquid, and added the cooked beans. Satisfying and delicious.

You could certainly use canned chickpeas, but it only takes a little planning to cook the chickpeas themselves. While overnight soaking is nice, it only speeds up the cooking time marginally. The benefit of soaking is to somewhat reduce flatulence if you aren't a regular bean eater. (If you eat cooked beans regularly, this fades as an issue.)

Before soaking or, if not soaking, cooking, look over the beans in the rare event there's a stone or other foreign matter. Then put them in a pot with fresh water to generously cover and turn on the heat. Once they come to a boil, reduce the heat to a steady simmer and cook until done, which can take anywhere from 30 minutes to an hour and quarter, depending upon the age of the beans. By all means, add salt at any point in the cooking process.

I try to cook at least a pound of beans at a time. You can freeze any surplus (in the cooking liquid) in portion sizes which can then simply be defrosted either overnight in the fridge or by nuking. I find that refrigerated without soaking water they'll hold up for the better part of a week. In the freezer you've got months of storage time.

Chick peas can make a great bar snack, far healthier than chips. Drain your cooked beans, toss in olive oil (it need not be extra virgin) then season well (salt and pepper for sure, cayenne powder if you like it hotter or any other dried herb or spice that suits you). Then place in a single layer in a shallow pan in a 400 F oven and roast until they start to brown and get crispy, shaking the pan every five minutes or so for even crisping. Remove and enjoy . . . or store for a day or two in an air-tight container. Great with beer if you can stand the calories.

If you like cooked greens (and I do) chickpeas are also great. Simply reheat the cooked greens (kale, collards, chard, spinach, whatever) and chickpeas together with some added oil and freshly minced garlic, salt and pepper. An excellent side with grilled meat, or on its own as a main.

Veggies, For A Start

Now that I'm trying to lighten up on my caloric intake, one of the challenges has been my fav way to prepare many vegetables: sautéing. Simply spraying the pan with oil doesn't cut it, since the flavor complexity is limited. No way to gently translucify the garlic, shallots or other allium representatives I find so necessary to most vegetable sautes.

One solution that's pleased me is to simply nuke, steam or boil the vegetable, as appropriate to the species. Then I heat up a small, measurable quantity of good olive oil in the microwave into which I've added my minced or chopped onion family member. After that, I simply toss the two together in a bowl.

This technique, while not duplicating a true sauté, does meld the flavors I seek. No reason why other flavor enhancements could be used other than alliums: red pepper flakes, herbs, etc.

Dark greens, like kale and broccoli rabe, work particularly well with this technique, but there's no reason why most other green vegetables can't get this treatment. I've also used it recently on asparagus and fiddleheads.

You can also roast the veggies first. I spray a foil-line pan with canola or olive oil from my mister, toss in the cut up veggies, spray a little more then roast for 20 minutes or so until they start to brown. Then toss with the garlic-infused, heated oil to finish. When I roasted asparagus together with pungent ramps, another member of the garlic-onion family, there was no need for separate garlic; I just used the heated oil, along with some salt and pepper.