Feta and mint Persian sandwiches
There’s a tiny little tea and coffee shop in Saarbruecken that’s owned by a Persian family. Everyday they offer a traditional Persian lunch, but the hot special is rarely vegetarian. I do like their sandwiches, however. The first one I tried was the feta and mint sandwich: half of a baguette spread with creamy feta, lots of fresh mint, and cucumber slices. It was delicious–much better than the typical German cheese sandwiches. I liked the sandwich so much I decided to make it at home. However, I used up all my cucumbers making sesame noodles. To replace the cucumbers, I added diced kalamata olives and thin slices of a fresh red chili from the Turkish market. I don’t know what kind of chili it is, but it’s bright tasting and hot but not too hot. My version of the feta and mint sandwich was delicious, even without the cucumber. Derek was skeptical at first, but after eating his sandwich he asked for another! I was out of the red chili, so I spread the bread with a little harissa, which was also tasty, but slightly bitter.
Farro Risotto with Three Mushrooms
In October Derek and I took a trip to Tuscany. The highlight of our trip was the four nights we spent in Southern Tuscany, at Terre di Nano, an estate perched on a hilltop halfway between Montepulciano and the tiny medieval village of Montechiello. When we arrived at Terre di Nano our first night, it was quite late, and the manager suggested we eat dinner at a nearby restaurant: La Porta, in Montechiello. The drive took less than ten minutes, but it felt longer because the road was narrow, unpaved, and pitch dark. Despite the fact that Montechiello is a tiny village, and off the main road, La Porta was almost completely full; a large group of about 20 Americans took up over half of the tables. The hostess sat us upstairs on a balcony overlooking the main dining room. Although the couple at the neighboring table kept complaining about the cigarette smoke wafting down from the attic kitchen, I didn’t notice it. I quite enjoyed our balcony perch; I liked watching from above as the waitresses brought out the food for all the other guests. We had a lovely, if not spectacular dinner at La Porta, and headed back to Terre di Nano.
The next morning at breakfast we met all the other Terre di Nano guests, and discovered that almost all of them had also eaten dinner at La Porta the previous evening! One woman (the one who had been complaining about the cigarette smoke) could not stop raving about their mushroom barley risotto. She said it was the best risotto she’d ever had. I was skeptical, as I’ve never had a barley risotto that I’ve liked. Still, when we headed back to La Porta a few nights later, I decided to take a chance, and ordered the mushroom barley risotto. It was excellent. The texture of the risotto was creamy, but each grain was perfectly chewy and nutty tasting. The mushroom flavor was intense, but not overpowering. Even after finishing the (quite) large dish of risotto, I wasn’t tired of it. It was anything but the one-note, overly-rich dish I was expecting.
My only objection to the risotto was directed at the menu’s claim that it was a barley risotto. I’ve had pearled barley, and hulled barley, but this didn’t taste like either. The grains had more fiber and heft than pearled barley, and more chew and flavor than hulled barley. I suspected that the risotto was actually made with farro, a local Tuscan grain. I asked the waitress to confirm that the risotto was really made with barley—she said yes. Then I noticed that behind me was a shelf of local agricultural products that the restaurant was offering up for sale. The shelf contained both barley and farro. I held them up to the waitress and asked which was in the risotto. She looked back and forth between them a few times, then said she had to ask the chef. When she returned, she confirmed that the risotto was indeed made from farro.
Our waitress and menu aren’t the only ones confused about the difference between farro and barley. All over the internet you see confusion about whether farro is the same as barley, the same as spelt, or some other grain entirely. There was an even an article about farro in the New York Times recently, which attempted to debunk some of the misconceptions about farro.
Farro is not barley, but wheat. The wheat family encompasses a number of related grains, including durum wheat (used to make pasta), spelt, common wheat (used to make bread flour), and kamut. The precise name for Farro is Emmer wheat (Triticum dicoccon), and it is more closely related to durum wheat and common wheat than to spelt. From Wikipedia, the major domesticated forms of wheat:
* Common wheat or Bread wheat — (T. aestivum) A hexaploid species that is the most widely cultivated in the world. [note: called der Weizen in German]
* Durum — (T. durum) The only tetraploid form of wheat widely used today, and the second most widely cultivated wheat. [note: often used to make pasta, called Glasweizen or Hartweizen in German, according to Leo ]
* Einkorn — (T. monococcum) A diploid species with wild and cultivated variants. Domesticated at the same time as emmer wheat, but never reached the same importance.
* Emmer — (T. dicoccon) A tetraploid species, cultivated in ancient times but no longer in widespread use. [note: most commonly eaten now in Italy, but also still used in other countries like Switzerland]
* Spelt — (T. spelta) Another hexaploid species cultivated in limited quantities. [note: now more popular in the States among the “bio” set, apparently called der Dinkel or der Spelz in German]
Kamut is another wheat variety, with unusually elongated grains. Unheard of 20 years ago, lately Kamut has been growing in popularity in the states. Kamut’s taxonomical classification is still unclear: some say it represents a unique species, others say it’s simply a form of durum wheat, whereas others argues it’s a hybrid of durum wheat and another wheat. I’ve found Kamut in Germany in my local Biofrischmarkt, under the name Kamut.
Oops, back to mushroom farro risotto.
Determined to recreate La Porta’s risotto, I returned from Italy with a pound of farro (purchased from La Porta for 3 euros, compared to the 9-10 dollars you’ll pay in New York), and a bag of dried porcini mushrooms. I spent some time searching around on the web to try to figure out the best way to cook farro for risotto, but found a lack of consensus. Some people said just to boil farro in water as you would pasta, then once it’s tender add in butter and cheese to make it creamy. Other recipes suggsted parboiling the farro, then treating it as if it were arborio rice. I decided to go with the latter method, as I thought it would result in a creamier risotto, without requiring a huge amount of butter and cheese.
I started out by boiling 2.25 cups of farro in 5 cups of water for 20 minutes. I ended up with about 8 cups of semi-cooked farro. I soaked the porcini mushrooms, and cooked the button mushrooms ahead of time, because Derek is picky about overcooked mushrooms. He likes them plump and juicy, and I was afraid that after 20 – 30 minutes of simmering they’d be dried out and tough. Besides holding the mushrooms aside until the last five minutes of cooking, I followed a standard risotto technique, using the following ingredients:
- 3 or 4 cups of parboiled farro
- vegetable broth, plus the strained soaking liquid from the dried porcini mushrooms
- 1.25 pounds white button mushrooms
- a bit of red wine
- 3 Tbs. butter (1 in the mushrooms, 1 for the onions, and 1 after the risotto was done)
- 1 shallot + a bit of red onion
- 2 garlic cloves
- 1 Tbs. olive oil
- 1.75 ounces parmigiano reggiano
- 1 ounce dried porcini mushrooms
- porcini salt and truffle salt
- a pinch of sugar
The risotto turned out really well. It had the same great chewy/creamy texture as La Porta’s version, and good flavor, although perhaps not quite as good as La Porta’s version. Even Derek, who was very skeptical about my ability to replicate the original, said that it was excellent.
I ended up eating the rest of the farro plain, either for breakfast with soymilk and a bit of granola, or just treating it like brown rice. It was delicious. Farro is definitely now one of my favorite grains.
More about my farro: The label says Farro Decorticato, and it’s from Az. Agr. Barbi, which is apparently near Monticchiello. I think decorticato means hulled. The bag weighs 500 grams. I think it’s organic because it says “da agricoltura biologica.” To prepare the farro, the label says to wash in cold water, then cook in a pot for 40 minutes. It says it serves five people.
Update December 13, 2009:
I cooked 1.5 cups farro in 3 cups vegetable broth. I brought it to a boil, then reduced to a simmer, and cooked until all the liquid was absorbed, about 35 minutes I think. This produced 5 cups of al dente farro. I used 4 cups for the risotto. I sauteed 1.5 pounds mushrooms in 1 Tbs. butter, and added 1/4 cup white wine and some soy sauce (1/2 Tbs.?). The mushrooms didn’t end up salty enough. When the mushrooms were cooked but still quite fat and juicy, I removed them from the pan and set them aside.
I sauted the shallot and red onion (about 1/2 cup) in 1 Tbs. of butter and 1 Tbs. of olive oil, then added 2 garlic cloves chopped. I added the 4 cups of parboiled farro, and some red wine (1/2 cup I think). Then I added the liquid from the porcini mushrooms and more vegetable broth. The farro ended up too soft. I think I pre-cooked it too long. Next time I would start with 1 cup of farro and 1.5 cups of vegetable broth, cooked for 20 minutes only.
At the end I added in the soaked, chopped porcini mushrooms and the cooked button mushrooms, and about 1/2 tsp. salt, then beat in the final 1 Tbs. of butter. We were out of truffle salt, and that definitely resulted in a less mushroom-y tasting dish. It was still tasty, but less mushroomy. We garnished the risotto with parmesan. It was tasty, but not as good as last time. I liked it with al dente farro much better than the somewhat soft farro I ended up with this time.
Derek rated this recipe a B+. I would give it a B due to the texture and the absence of truffle salt. With a few fixes it would definitely be a B+.
The joys of peruvian pepper sauce
I can’t recall if I’ve blogged about aji amarillo sauce before, but it’s worth a second mention in any case. This Peruvian sauce is simply a puree made from yellow aji peppers. It’s bright yellow, somewhat spicy, a little salty, and very flavorful. Actually, I’d describe it more as “piquant” than seriously spicy. The first time I had it was at La Feria in Pittsburgh. Although I enjoyed adding it to their various grain and cheese casseroles, and using it in place of butter as a spread for french bread, I was never really sure what to do with it at home. Then a few months ago Derek and I went to Madre, a tiny nouveau latin restaurant on the east side of Montreal. We weren’t all that excited about the experience (see our review), but there was one memorable dish with peruvian pepper sauce that Derek loved, and has been on my mind ever since: a duck “ceviche” with seared duck marinated in yellow pepper sauce, with onions, parsnip puree, and roasted corn kernels.
I finally found the yellow pepper sauce at the South American store on St. Laurent (and then later at the Mexican store behind Jean Talon market). The Mexican store also had the roasted salted corn kernels. Visiting Derek in Germany this week, I bought adorable French fingerling potatoes, fresh garlic, and a medium bag of spinach. I sliced five of the fingerling potatoes, and sauteed them in olive oil with a half of head of fresh garlic and a small red onion sliced into rings. Once the potatoes were almost soft I added about a 1/2 cup of yellow pepper sauce, and the spinach (leaves torn). After the spinach was wilted I sprinkled on some fresh thyme and a dusting of roasted corn kernels. I had meant to add mushrooms and white wine as well, in mimicry of the white wine and garlic saute from Kaya but forgot both. Even so, everyone really enjoyed the dish, even me! I couldn’t taste the thyme, and next time might try a more south american herb like cilantro. Also, I’d like to try using parsnips instead of potatoes. Either way, I’ll definitely be trying this type of recipe again, as well as looking for more opportunities to use this delicious yellow pepper sauce, even if I have to smuggle it into Germany from Montreal or the States.
Other ways I’ve eaten this sauce lately:
- plain, as a dipping sauce for roasted brussels sprouts
- mixed with yogurt and lemon juice as a dipping sauce for chickpea patties
- as a flavorful addition to a sandwich, in place of mustard
If you have any other suggestions, please post a comment!
I’ve seen a large number of different brands of this pepper sauce: Goya, Dona Isabel, La Nuestra, various local Canadian brands. If you can’t find it in the ethnic food section of a large grocery store, try to hunt down a South American store, or better yet a Peruvian or Bolivian store. If you still can’t find the jarred aji amarillo pepper puree, here are instructions on how to make it yourself.
White bean rosemary spread
I had a white bean rosemary spread on crostini at a restaurant recently, and really enjoyed it. I looked in my cookbooks for a recipe, but couldn’t find one. I figured I’d just wing it–how hard could it be?
- 1 can cannellini beans
- 2 tsp. minced garlic
- 1 Tbs. lemon juice
- 2 Tbs. coarsely chopped rosemary
- 2 Tbs. olive oil
- 1/4 tsp. salt
- black pepper, freshly ground
- 2 Tbs. chopped onion
Combine all ingredients in food processor and blend until smooth.
My Notes: This is approximately what I did–I didn’t measure that carefully. It had a good texture, not too thin or runny, and it tasted good, but the rosemary flavor wasn’t as strong as I would have liked. I bet it’s going to be really strong tomorrow though, after a day of sitting in the fridge, and I’m going to regret putting in so much rosemary. The final product is surprisingly similar to hummus, despite the lack of chickpeas and tahini. I enjoyed it on my Lebanese flat bread.
In Cook’s Illustrated Best Light Recipe they say they tried a number of different beans for a simple bean puree preparation. They claimed that frozen limas produced a puree with off flavors and a chalky texture; edamame puree was bland and gritty; black eyed pea puree had a muddy flavor and was even more gritty; chickpeas tasted thin and tinny; navy beans had a stale, canned aste; great Northern beans had good flavor but weren’t as creamy as they wanted. In the end, they said they preferred Cannelini beans over all others, since they easily break down into a silky, rich puree. I hadn’t read this when I chose cannellini beans for this recipe. They’re just what I happened to have around. If I ever try one of these other beans instead I’ll be sure to come back and write a comparison. Also, in their comparison of different brands of canned white beans they preferred Progresso over the others they tried.
I compared the cook’s illustrated light recipe for white bean puree with rosemary to my improvised recipe. They add 1/3 cup of water to their beans, and use only 1 1/3 tsp. of olive oil, 1 1/3 tsp. garlic, and 1/3 tsp. of rosemary per 1 can of beans! Clearly their recipe would be much more mild than my version. Their recipe does not use any lemon juice or onion either, although it does call for a bit of pepper flakes. The technique is also different. They have you puree the beans with the water, the saute the garlic and red pepper flakes in oil briefly, then add the bean puree and cook for about 10 minutes, then drizzle a bit of oil over the top to finish it off. I’m curious how much of a difference cooking the puree makes. I know that in my recipe I felt the raw garlic was a bit sharp tasting, and cooking would mellow it. But other than that I’m not sure what it accomplishes. Perhaps it allows their puree to be flavorful even with such small amounts of all the seasonings.
Derek’s S.O.B. Sundae
Derek and I went to Le Divan Orange for dinner last week, and loved their mushroom terrine with Sesame oil, Orange juice, and Beets. The sauce was unusual, and divine. We sopped up every last drop with our bread. It inspired Derek to create this dessert in which we substitute ice cream for the mushroom terrine.
- 1 cup orange juice
- 2 Tbs. toasted sesame oil
- 1.5 tsp. sugar
- 4 medium/small beets, about 1 cup diced
- 1 pint of ice cream, vanilla or a nutty/caramelly flavor like maple walnut or butter pecan
- nice coarse salt, fleur de sel or kosher salt
- Roast the beets until cooked. Peel and dice finely into about 1/4-inch squares.
- Meanwhile, reduce the orange juice in a small pan on low for about 30 minutes, until only 2 Tbs. remain. Remove from heat.
- Dissolve the sugar into the still-warm orange juice. Add in the sesame oil and stir vigorously until it forms an emulsion. The result should be a thick, caramelly sauce.
- To plate: Scoop 1/2 cup ice cream into a bowl. Sprinkle 1/4 cup of diced beets (preferably still warm) on top. Drizzle with a heaping tablespoon of warm sauce, then dust with coarse salt. Serve immediately.
My Notes:
There wasn’t quite as much beet flavor as we would have liked, but we boiled the beets instead of roasting them. I also used 4 Tbs. orange juice concentrate since I didn’t have fresh juice, but Derek thought not-from-concentrate would have been better.
Update 9/23/2007: I tried making the sauce and drizzling it over baby golden beets which had been roasted. I made the recipe for the sauce as above, with the concentrate again. My first thought after taking a bite was “too too sweet.” The only thing my taste buds detected was sweet. I didn’t get any beet flavor, and very little sesame. I hadn’t added any salt so I tried sprinkling some salt on. It helped a bit but it was still too sweet. I then tasted the sauce alone and it seemed okay–I could definitely taste both the orange and sesame. The sauce did seem quite thick, almost like caramel, maybe too thick for seasoning beets with? Maybe I should have thinned it down with a vinegar? Or maybe the golden beets just are too sweet for this sauce, at least with the added sugar? I tasted the beets by themselves and although they did taste “beety”, it was a pretty subtle flavor–none of that intense concentrated flavor I thought roasting was supposed to give them. Did I do something wrong? I just rubbed a little oil over them, wrapped each one in tin foil, and baked at 400 or so until they seemed soft. I let them cool a bit and then peeled them.
So now I’m left with a bunch of beets, which I will probably just add to a salad, and a good 1/4 cup of sesame orange sauce. What am I going to do with that??? I don’t have any ice cream.
Jicama Salad
We had a jicama salad at Frontera Grill yesterday for brunch. It was made of long fat rectangles of jicama, small squares of pineapple, and long juliennes of cucumber, with the peel on. The produce was dusted with a slightly spicy chili powder, and they served it with lime wedges. Both Derek and I enjoyed it–a nice refreshing appetizer. Derek especially liked the cucumber. I thought the three flavors (jicama, pineapple, and cukes) didn’t really meld together–they each kept their separate identity, without really complementing each other. But the three separate identities were so yummy who cares! I tried making it with some Indian chile powder I bought (nothing like Mexican chile powder) and it was delicious. Definitely a keeper. Sorry but I didn’t record amounts. Next time.
Update: I just improvised a jicama salad and it didn’t turn out so well. I use long fat pieces like at Frontera, which were good. But I added an avocado and a grapefruit. The avocado pieces turned to mush when I stirred it and the grapefruit pieces kind of fell apart, and left the whole thing sitting in a huge pool of liquid. The pink grapefruit and greenish avocado left the whole thing looking kind of putrid green color. I added 1/2 jalepeno, and some lime juice, and a bit of honey, chili powder, and salt, then drained all the liquid out. It look a little more appetizing, but definitely not something I’d try this way again.
Update 2: I tried another Frontera Grill version except I didn’t have pineapple so subbed in mandarin oranges. Derek said he liked it better than the pineapple, but I thought it was not quite as good. Just a touch of salt, chili powder, and lime juice worked well–much better than the soggy mush I ended up with last time.
Update March 2010: I made this with daikon radish instead of jicama. The radish isn’t quite as sweet as the jicama but it’s a reasonable substitute. I julienned the cucumber and daikon, and used my “french fry cut” blade for the pineapple Next time I would use the french fry cut for all the veggies, but certainly for the cucumber. I made the salad the day before and by the next day the salad was drowning in a sea of liquid. Maybe if I had cut the cucumber into bigger pieces it wouldn’t have been so bad, but I think it’s probably best to not cut the cucumber until you’re ready to eat, and maybe the pineapple too.
Quack’s Salsa (B+)
Captain Quackenbush’s Intergalactic Dessert Company and Espresso Café (commonly known as Quackenbush’s or just Quack’s) was Austin’s first coffeehouse and an excellent example of the laid-back style of old-school Austin. In college, I used to eat lunch there occasionally, always getting their black bean burrito with verde sauce and a side of their excellent tomato salsa. It was a great deal: three and a half bucks for a tasty, filling, healthy burrito and salsa that couldn’t be beat. Unfortunately, Starbucks and other newer, trendier coffee shops soon showed up on the drag, and Quack’s was eventually closed down in the face of reduced business and rising rents. Before they closed, however, I made a desperate plea for their salsa recipe. It’s restaurant-sized, but so good you won’t have trouble getting rid of a gallon at a time (right?).
Stir together:
- 10 pounds of whole tomatoes, broken up with a wooden spoon
- 1 yellow onion (1/2 lb.), diced
- 3 jalepenos, minced
- 1 poblano, diced
- 1/2 cup whole garlic, minced
- 1 bunch cilantro, chopped
- juice of 1 lime
- 1 1/2 tsp. salt
- 1/2 tsp. black pepper
- 1/2 tsp. ground cumin
- 1 cup water
My Notes
When I made this for fast food at the co-op, it would all disappear in twenty four hours.
Rating: B+
Reduced version:
- 2 pounds whole tomatoes (I used 1 lb 13 oz canned tomatoes in juice + a 7 oz fresh tomato)
- 1.6 oz diced onion (I used 4 oz)
- 3/5 jalapeno, minced (I used 1.5 seeded jalapeno + 1/2 with seeds)
- 1/5 poblano (I used none, adding 1/2 tsp. chile powder)
- .8 Tbs. whole garlic, minced (I used 3 cloves, 17g total)
- 1/5 bunch cilantro, chopped (I used 40g)
- juice of 1/5 of a lime (I used 1 lime, just over 1.5 Tbs.)
- 3/10 tsp. salt (I used 1/2 tsp.)
- 1/8 tsp. black pepper (I used a few grinds)
- 1/10 tsp. ground cumin (I used 1/2 tsp.)
- 1/5 cup water (I used 1.5 oz or 3 Tbs.)
- I added 1 Tbs. olive oil for mouthfeel
Watermelon and Watercress Salad
At Kaya this week I ordered a watermelon and watercress salad, topped with a very mild creamy feta and a ginger dressing. The combination was new to me, and surprisingly delicious. The peppery watercress was very noticeable, and went well with the sweetness of the melon, and the salty creaminess of the feta. The dressing was tasty, but I could barely detect any ginger–it was not a greasy dressing at all, but maybe it was watered down by the melon juice. I liked the salad so much I decided to crack open the watermelon I bought from Rick at the Oakland Market and try my hand at my own watermelon and watercress salad.
- 4? cups watermelon, small dice
- 2 bunches watercress, with stems, coarsely chopped
- ginger vinaigrette
- feta, crumbled (I used a creamy Israeli feta from Stamooli’s in the strip)
I grated about 2 Tbs. of a very fresh and mild ginger, and combined it with 1 Tbs. of olive oil and 1 Tbs. of canola oil, plus a few Tablespoons of assorted vinegars: champagne, rice, and apple cider, plus a sprinkle of salt. I couldn’t figure out which vinegar was right–none tasted quite acidic enough for me, so I just kept adding more.
Spoons thought the dressing tasted somewhat Japanese, and suggested adding toasted sesame oil to it. Another guest thought it was taboulleh–she thought the watermelon was tomatoes and the watercress was parsley!
This dish needs a bit of work to figure out all the measurements and get the balance right, but it has a lot of promise. The basic combo of watermelon, watercress, and ginger is delightful.
I was curious if this combo was invented at Kaya. A quick google search reveals a cornucopia of recipes for salads that include watermelon and watercress. One blog states that it’s a pretty typical Greek combination. One recipe from Bon Appetit for
watermelon and watercress salad with ginger got impressively high reviews. The recipe also includes cucumber, green onions, garlic, lime peel, and cilantro. Other recipes I found called for a variety of ingredients including red onion, lime juice, sugar, parsley, shallots, chervil, almonds, sesame oil, raspberry vinegar, pine nuts, basil, and mint. In general I’d like to keep this recipe simple, but I might try adding lime juice since lime and watermelon go very well together.
Rating: B+
Derek: B+
Update July 2013:
Watermelon, arugula, and feta salad with a ginger vinaigrette
We made this salad for dinner tonight, except we can (almost) never get watercress here, so we used a mix of arugula and radicchio instead.
- 1.25 pounds of diced watermelon (about 4 cups of diced watermelon)
- 5 ounces of arugula
- 2 ounces of radicchio
- 4 ounces of feta, crumbled
- ginger vinaigrette (see recipe below)
For the dressing I used:
- 27g of ginger pulp (from an approximately 1-inch piece of ginger grated on a microplane grater)
- 1 Tbs. extra virgin olive oil
- 1.5-2 Tbs. brown rice vinegar
- 1 pinch of salt
It made 4-5 large salads. Both Derek and I enjoyed it. I missed the intense pepperiness of the watercress, but the other bitter greens worked reasonably well. For the recipe to climb to an A rating I think it needs a little something extra. Maybe something with a bit of crunch. Ideas?
Rating: B+
Derek: B+
The captious vegetarian 