chappie

Jicama-lime combo fantastic mixed with chopped fresh mint

Well, so far I have made chicken soup with lemongrass, processed two big jars of a sort of green curry paste, stuck several sticks in a bottle of vodka for the freezer, added it to some limoncello already marinating, made lemongrass white balasamic vinegar -- and with it some vinaigrettes, and frozen a bunch more. Oh yeah, I boiled a bunch down, then reduced the liquid, but this doesn't taste as good as I'd hoped.

It has been discussed often here, but you will want to pick up the 23-year-old Ron Zacapa Centenario, about $25 in Guatemala. Other than Guatemalan rums, I found in duty-free my favorite Barbancourt (Haitian) for just $6 a bottle. Quite a steal. But you will have to pack them carefully in check-in luggage if you plan on bringing back a bunch. I was able to carry my duty-free on the plane out of Guat., handed to me sealed at the gate -- but once we arrived in Miami for our connection we had to put it in our regular luggage. Luckily I only had four bottles. If I had, as I considered, bought 20 bottles of Barbancourt, I would have been in a bind.

I spent summer 1997 working on a surimi processing vessel off the northwest tip of Washington, in a place called Neah Bay. We used hake, a crappy, mass-schooling, mushy fish, to which things like sorbitol, beef blood plasma and sugar were added in the factory. It was a half-Japanese-owned company, and I can tell you more about the experience on the boat, but not much about eating it. I don't much enjoy surimi.

Details here? How do you do a "5 hour slow roast chicken" without overcooking it, and what additional steps do you take to produce this swoonjus?

OK... first, by "coriander stems" ... is that cilantro? Second, which type of oil should I use? I do not like canola; can I use peanut? Also, and this applies both to this recipe and the others suggested, but can I use the upper, thin part of the stalk or are you talking about just the inner part of the base. I would love to find uses for all of it, even if it means doing a bunch of separating first...

(Originally posted, incorrectly, in China forum) We live in Maryland and both my dad and I have big clumps of lemongrass in our yards. I use it from time to time in cooking, grilling fish, etc. and for the past three years have forgotten to harvest it all before the first frost, which renders the stalks and leaves useless. Does anyone have ideas for ways I could use large quantities of both the lower, oily stalk and the leaves? In the past I've ground up the leaves finely in a food processor as an ingredient in a rub for grilled fish. What about green curry paste? I would love to make a ton of it and freeze it if possible. Any recipes involving copious amounts of lemongrass? If this would be best posted elsewhere, then please advise also. Otherwise, I look forward to your ideas.

I am not sure if this is the correct forum to post on about this, but I know it's probably one of the most read, so here goes: We live in Maryland and both my dad and I have big clumps of lemongrass in our yards. I use it from time to time in cooking, grilling fish, etc. and for the past three years have forgotten to harvest it all before the first frost, which renders the stalks and leaves useless. Does anyone have ideas for ways I could use large quantities of both the lower, oily stalk and the leaves? In the past I've ground up the leaves finely in a food processor as an ingredient in a rub for grilled fish. What about green curry paste? I would love to make a ton of it and freeze it if possible. If this would be best posted elsewhere, then please advise also. Otherwise, I look forward to your ideas.

So no input on why quartered lemons (with juice) wouldn't produce as good a product as simply lemon zest? I mashed the fruits down today and added a little more vodka as they seem to have "drank" a good bit of the liquor. I'll be squeezing every last drop out of them later...

I don't have a ton of cash period so I like tasty bargains; and to be honest I enjoy Barbancourt at every start level...

In the duty-free shop in Guatemala City, I had some Quetzales to burn so I picked up two bottles of 23-yo Zacapa Centenario — then noticed they had Barbancourt 3-star for $6 a bottle! I still had enough for one, so I grabbed it. With the ridiculous new liquid restrictions, even though I was handed my box of three bottles, sealed and labeled with a receipt on the box, at the gate — once we arrived in Miami it had to go in my check-in luggage for the flight to Baltimore. Were I able to carry more, I might have bought 10 bottles of the $6 3-star. Barbancourt overall is one of my favorites.

For my bachelor party, my friend Eric made about two gallons of quick limoncello made by soaking a bunch of quartered lemons in grain for just two days, then squeezing out the juice, filtering it all through cheesecloth, adding sugar and water and filling into Gatorade bottles for quick consumption. Not as silky or syrupy as Dad's version made with Meyer lemons from my aunt's yard in Arizona — but still good. Today, facing a sack of about 20 leftover lemons (the store-bought variety), I decided to make an improvised version. I am soaking them, quartered, in vodka and grain (I also threw in a grapefruit that was getting lonely) for a long period of time, maybe three weeks. Then I was planning on squeezing the juice out of the quarters, straining and adding simple syrup to taste. With this method, will the pith left on the rinds make it too bitter? Is there a problem with also using the juice of the lemons in addition to the oil from the zest? Also, both Dad and I have a lot of lemongrass to harvest and find something to do with before first frost (when it gets mushy and unusable). Does anyone have experience soaking lemongrass (I was thinking grassy top and all — it's still lemony up there) in vodka?

Short story: Arrived home late night from Guatemala, turned on TV briefly, checked Food Network and saw Tyler Florence waltzing through Applebees kitchens, touting his new menu of rosemary chickens, pasta and more chicken. And ... a burger! Then he capped it off by dutifully reciting the slogan: "Eatin' Good in the Neighborhood." Yeah. Wonder what that paycheck was...

I don't have any pictures yet, but the food (and everything about the wedding) was fantastic. Unfortunately, I didn't get to sample most of it. I had sworn I wouldn't be one of those people who forgets to eat at their own wedding, but it all went by too quickly (and I was too busy dancing -- band played till midnight) and I missed out on the softshell crabs (which disappeared rapidly) and much of the other treats. I haven't stopped hearing about how great the food was, however. I did get to eat plenty of cake, and everyone loved the idea of being able to choose from 7 or 8 different flavors. The Smith Island cakes are insanely good. Just got back from a perfect honeymoon in Guatemala, so I'll post more when I've collected my thoughts...

I find lately that even when Dad makes his sauce and I eat crabs over there, I only use it for the claws. The rest of it has enough sweet flavor on its own. I love the taste of unadulterated, fresh crab meat so much that I find crabcakes somewhat of a bore, even though I am told I make really good ones (I usually caramelize some sweet corn and add that in the mix). If I'm having something between buns, I'd rather go for a burger and save the crabs for picking.

Wow — I had never heard of crabs'n'gravy. That sounds interesting and is likely a very micro-regional tradition. The most ridiculous "local dish" for crabs in parts of Maryland is the fried hard crab. Rip the top shell off a large jimmy, clean out the lungs and guts, batter and fry. Utterly nonsensical; you are basically eating fried batter off the carapice then proceeding as usual — but some people swear by them out of tradition. As for steaming with Old Bay, my father's philosophy is that it's waste of spices as he uses Old Bay in his dipping sauce. I tend to agree — to a point. I don't like it when I order crabs out and they are absolutely caked in spice, if only because it works its way into little knicks in your skin. But as a compromise, when I am steaming crabs I will sprinkle a little bit in — just a touch over each layer — and also out of habit and superstition add a cheap beer and splash of cider vinegar to the steaming water. As for the mustard, I am sure a lifetime of ingesting said toxins and chemicals helps mold us Eastern Shoremen into the nutcases we are.

From www.blue-crab.org/glossary.html: "Contrary to popular belief, the 'mustard' is not fat, rather it's the crab's hepatopancreas, the organ responsible for filtering impurities from the crab's blood. Although many find its flavor distinct and delicious, it is recommended that you do not eat this since many chemical contaminants concentrate in this organ." Considering the increasing load of impurities settling to the bottom of the Chesapeake Bay and its estuaries, perhaps our affection for the crab's built-in, ready-made sauce is not so kosher. Growing up riverside on the Eastern Shore, we'd eat crabs caught in traps off the dock all summer long. Mom's favorite parts were the shell fat, the roe, the mustard and even some of the other innards. I love nothing more than sitting down to a pile of hot crabs, some 10-oz. Buds, pickles and cheese and a small dish of homemade crab dipping sauce (secret recipe). I usually eat at least seven or eight, often more. Lately I've been noticing that, a few hours after such a feast, I don't feel so keen. This internal disarray lasts into the next day. I am now wondering if the state of our rivers — and the fact that crabs lurk deep in the estrogen-, chemical- and poop-laden silt, sucking it all in — has anything to do with this. Last week's report on a majority of male rockfish near the mouth of the Potomac bearing eggs only compounded the sad state of the Chesapeake. I still love the mustard, but it can't be healthy.

I had posted on this asking for suggestions many months ago, but my fiance and I found the perfect guy to cater our wedding. He's worked at some of the top restaurants around here, and is now the head chef of a big marine engineering school nearby (he got married, too, and this allows him to be home at 7 or 8 p.m. instead of 2 or 3 a.m.). Woody doesn't have an official catering business yet; rather, he's doing a wedding or two per year, hired by friends and word of mouth, to show off his talents. When we met him, he brought a portfolio of photos of his cooking that alone could have landed him a job shooting for a magazine. And the ideas. Most restaurants that also cater will give you perhaps three or four options. Woody gave us six pages' worth, filled with brainstorms involving eel, pork belly ... everything imaginable. He has very little overhead, because his employer allows him full use of its huge, new kitchen. And his prices right now are impossibly reasonable. This won't last long, I am certain. We circled far too many items on his lists, and told him when we met again that we understood he would have to help us cut it by 60 percent or so. To our amazement, he said he'd love to cook it all! So, for 200 guests on the rapidly approaching 23rd of September, here is our menu: (By the way it is not a sit-down dinner but rather several stations so people can grab what they like). Appetizer: • Crab dip with toasted crustiness • Oriental and ginger breaded fried oysters with sesame oil remoulade • Phyllo cups filled with crab, diced cucumber, tomato and feta with toasted cumin vinaigrette • Smoked shrimp spring roll with peach, apricot and rum dipping sauce • Wild mushroom bouchee with light beurre blanc • Jerk marinated chicken skewers with a banana ketchup and sweet & sour pineapple curry sauce Dinner: • Grilled and fried soft crab accomplianed with classic tartar sauce • Grilled rockfish seasoned with tropical citrus spice blend with – scallion aioli and corn pepper relish • Beef tenderloin with assorted dinner rolls – cranberry horseradish sauce and bacon chipotle mayonnaise • Maple glazed pork loin with a caramelized onion & mustard sauce • BBQ spiced roasted shrimp skewer with coffee BBQ dipping sauce • Italian marinated chicken breast topped with shaved ham and melted mozzarella cheese with a vinaigrette caper sauce Salads: • Pasta salad with mixed vegetables (Napa cabbage, bean sprouts, sundried tomatoes, peas, mixed peppers, etc.) tossed in a cantoulpe sauce • California salad with 3 dressing • Montreal spiced potato salad After dinner: • Fruit Basket with peaches, apples, pears, banana, grapes • Cheese platter with assorted crackers • Food left over make wraps and sandwiches for late night fill • Chips with leftover sauces (salsa) * * * Instead of a big wedding cake we are having 12 smaller Smith Island cakes, a local delicacy featuring 16 layers of cake and icing, in seven flavors. For our small rehearsal dinner, I am smoking four or five pork butts for barbecue, plus other homemade sides. I will be sure to get some photos of the food and report back after our honeymoon to Guatemala.

The book Nourishing Traditions dedicates a chapter to lacto-fermentation, which was the original method of pickling across many cultures. Their method uses a "starter" of whey created by straining whole-milk yogurt (leaving behind some really good "cheese"). I have made several batches of kimchi and dill pickles this way, using very little salt, distilled water and a few tablespoons of active whey. Sealed the jars and left them at room temperature for a few days until the contents inside were bubbling a bit, released the pressure by cracking the lids momentarily, and refrigerated them. I just opened a jar of these "live" pickles I put in the fridge two years ago, and they're good. Pleasantly sour and you don't miss the salt or the vinegar.

I had thoroughly enjoyed rabbit the few times I've had it and once described it to a friend as tasting like "a chicken with dignity." Lately I've been noticing a bumper crop of bunnies scuttling about, so I just might have to wander the woods this fall in search of a few. Dad often tells of a cold winter he spent in college, with little but a pot of perpetual soup on the woodstove to nourish him and his crew. Low on veggies? Add some canned tomatoes. Low on meaty bites? Go shoot a rabbit, skin it, gut it, cut it up and add it to the soup.

The best pork barbecue comes from my Weber after a thorough spice rub, about eight hours of slow smoking and some homemade, tangy yet spicy sauce comprised of cider vinegar, ketchup, red pepper flakes, molasses, ground ancho chiles, salt and pepper. The problem with this establishment is that it's sporadic. If you show up unannounced, the proprietor might just make you wait the full eight hours (plus 15 minutes for him to dash off to the supermarket for some pork butts), boring you with his arcane stories while your order is custom-prepared. If you are ever heading to the Shore, on the left side of Rt. 50 in Easton (East-bound) is a place called Smoky King, run by a Korean family. They weren't my favorite when they opened many years ago, but they have definitely perfected their smoking techniques. I recommend the pulled pork (it's saucy, but I like their sauce), plus sides of slaw, mac and cheese and kimchi (their one Korean touch, and it goes great with barbecue). Also, on Kent Island, a small outfit called the Alabama Barbecue Company sets up shop (they consist of a trailer) in the parking lot of Baker's Liquors. It is on the right side heading east. Good stuff; some of their sauces are "experimental" though, like a blueberry barbecue sauce. I like their ribs.

I speak from my innard voices here. As a lifelong Eastern Shoreman, scrapple is more than an occasional crispy-fried, gooey-centered breakfast accessory; it is a lifestyle choice, the topic of lavish tales and the source of great legend. I have conjured the idea of creating a sort of scrapple family tree, setting sail around the globe on a mastication mission to seek out its great grandporks, its second cousins thrice removed, examine their DNA and cultural significance and report back. Haggis is definitely kinfolk, scrapple's ancestor from the old country. I know of souse in the South, livermush, even something refered to as goetta in (I think) Ohio. I would differentiate, not in lineage or birth but in, say, language and ritual, between Maryland scrapple presentation and that of Delaware and Philly, where I've had it served so thick it was more warmed carrion pudding. So dear Adventurers, fill me in on your regional scrap-and-grain, meaty loaf-like contructs. You out there in Krgyzstan, Pilau or the lower nethers of Arkansas -- I want to know about the hoof hash, the snoutmeal, the works of heart.

Ah, I recently bred two items late one night that have birthed a flavor combination I haven't been able to stop eating since. Take a jar of Trader Joe's Corn & Chile Tomatoless Salsa (it would be more apt to call it a relish, because it's sweet), slather some on bread, then spread peanut butter on the other slice and smack'em together. Best PB sammich I've ever eaten, and I enjoy it with pepper jellies, shit, even bacon and red onion. To add some flourish I included roasted carrots yesterday. I simply cannot eat enough of this.

I had loaned my copy of NT to a friend many months ago and just got it back. Sadly, I've been eating pretty shabbily for awhile and am eager to get on a better track soon. Has anyone who uses the book experimented with soaking cornmeal in the limewater solution they recommend (I believe it uses Azomite powder)? I routinely soak things like steel-cut oats overnight with water and a splash of keffir milk, but the book claims cornmeal is even more important to soak because its nutrients are bound up.

In the summer of 1997 I worked on a surimi vessel off the coast of Washington in Neah Bay. We took in copious schools of Pacific hake, one of the mushiest, crappiest fish around, and processed them (by adding sugar, sorbitol and -- yes -- beef blood plasma!) into homogenous sweetened fish paste, a.k.a surimi. All of it went directly onto container ships bound for Japan; in fact, the company was partially Japanese-owned and much of our work was supervised by Japanese surimi technicians. Yes, this was a title and probably involved some lenghty apprenticeships. Not my favorite substance in the world, but I'll eat it in California rolls. I guess it would be good this way, too. The best part of the surimi summer was that we caught all sorts of delicious fish as bycatch like mackeral, coho salmon and some species of rockfish, all of which were cooked in the galley. The chefs never once served surimi, however.