Monday, February 27, 2012

Go, Rama, Go!


I’m gonna blame the weather. 

For reasons I can’t understand, let alone articulate, getting this post together has been a helluva challenge.  I’ve been exposed to every little facet of my diminished attention span. 

It’s gotten ridiculous. 

It seems the window of time I can commit to the simplest task these days has gotten so small that if it could drive, it would buy a red sports car, with a bass-heavy stereo to compensate for its shortcomings.

Yes.  My attention span has erectile dysfunction.

So, as I said, I’m blaming the weather.  As such it’s appropriate that this is the dish I wanted to share.  When we were living in Montreal a few years back we had gone out for Thai food one evening.  It was about -15 degrees Celsius, a cold wind ripping snow from the banks along rue St. Denis, and throwing it mockingly in our faces as we trudged towards the restaurant.  We almost turned back at a certain point, as we knew we still had a hefty walk ahead of us.  But we persevered for some reason (I had probably refused to cook), and eventually found ourselves at the restaurant.

Once inside, we had an incredible meal.  I don’t even recall exactly what we had (other than a spicy, crispy, green bean dish) but I do recall the feeling of utter bliss that washed over us afterwards.  There’s something about the spiciness of Thai food which wiggles its way into that happy place in the brain and nests there, rather than sitting on your tongue in a searing cayenne hangover.

As a result, by the time we were leaving the weather seemed not to matter.  Glassy-eyed, and with a perma-smile on our faces, we floated back along the icy streets towards home, not noticing the cold, the wind, or the fact that there were still at least four months of this kind of weather still to get through.

This dish is something of my own little talisman against the winter, and more so against the umpteen depressive disorders winter can inspire.


Swimming Rama

Sauce

  • 1/3 cup peanut butter
  • 4-5 Tbsp rice vinegar
  • 1 Tbsp sesame oil
  • 3-4 Tbsp soy sauce (preferably Tamari)
  • 1-2 stalks lemongrass, peeled and chopped fine.  Only use soft white part
  • 1 Tbsp grated fresh ginger (or about 1 tsp ginger powder)
  • 3-4 garlic cloves, minced or grated
  • ½ tsp chili paste
  • 2 Tbsp brown sugar or 3 Tbsp honey
  • 1 400 ml can coconut milk
  • 2-3 Tbsp lime juice (preferably kaffir/magrut lime)

  • ½ cup peas (frozen is fine.  Defrost in cool water, and drain)
  • 6-8 cups chopped spinach
  • 2 chicken breasts, cut into chunks or strips
  • 2-3 Tbsp oil (vegetable or peanut)


Garnish

  • 1 small tomato, seeded and chopped
  • ¼ cup chopped cilantro (or Thai basil)
  • Cooked Rice to serve

Combine peanut butter, vinegar, sesame oil, soy, spices and sugar in a small saucepan, and stir gently over med-low heat until mixture is evenly blended.  Add coconut milk and stir.

Heat a wok or skillet over med-high heat.  Drizzle in oil, and add chicken.  Fry until no pink remains showing on the outside, stirring and flipping as required.

When chicken is almost done (don’t worry too much if it’s still pink inside), bring the coconut milk mix to a boil.  When bubbling, add the chicken (draining fat, if necessary), reduce the heat to a simmer, and cook gently for 8-10 minutes.

Place the wok back on the heat.  Put about half a cup of water in, and add the spinach.  Stir spinach until evenly wilted.

Taste sauce, and add lime juice to taste, and peas.

Arrange rice on individual plates, or a large platter, with a well in the center.  Place spinach on the rice, then pour the chicken and sauce over spinach. 

Sprinkle with tomato and cilantro, and serve immediately.

Friday, February 10, 2012

A song in my heart, and soup on the stove



Happy February, y’all!

Over on the Facebook page there was a bit of banter going on about music.  I was making this particular soup, while listening to a Cure album, and it was just one of those moments where you are so immersed in what you’re doing, and the sounds around you, that there was that sense of time being suspended.  I sang along loudly (and poorly), shook my thang (again, poorly), and chopped, stirred, sautéed and boiled my way through a cooking experience without even noticing that I’d forgotten to feed the cats.  Finally when the album was done, and decibel levels returned to normal I was able to take notice of the allegedly starved felines yelling at me.  Ah well.

Music is food for the soul.  Food is… soul… for the… music…?  Damn, thought I had something there.

Serendipitously, I wanted to pay a proper homage to a project a dear friend, Natalie Burdeny, has been at the helm of.  The Vancouver Concert Opera Society (VanCOCO), although new on the scene, promises to be bringing a (dare I say it) plethora (I said it) of operatic innovation to Vancouverites in a highly accessible way.

With past productions of Bizet’s “Carmen”, and an award winning run of “Trouble in Tahiti” in the 2011 Fringe Festival, the launch into 2012’s season with Verdi’s “Rigoletto” is sure to be another foothold up the ladder of the local music scene.  Dizzying heights to follow…

So, how does one pay said homage?

Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you:

Rigoletto Ribollita!


A few more words before I dive into this soup recipe.  As mentioned above, music should be food for the soul, and this particular recipe is fully reflective of several facets which are applicable to VanCOCO’s journey.

For starters, the term ribollita means “reboiled”, and is used to refer to the peasant soup this originated from.  Often the peasants would collect the leftover food from wealthy landowners, and add their own ingredients, flare, re-cook it up and serve it as a whole new creation, accessible to the common people.  You don’t need me to go into point form notes to show how this applies to VanCOCO, do you?  I thought not.

Also, there’s one particular ingredient which I can already sense people’s resistance to.  Bread.  Yeah, yeah.  “In soup?!  Soggy bread?!” I assure you, it’s used as a thickener, and once cooked down it lends a surprising soft, luscious, velvety texture which definitely makes this stand out from being just another vegetable stew.  

In like fashion, people will say “Opera?!  Me?!”  Again, trust me.  VanCOCO’s smart productions drop the pretense one might associate with conventional operatic productions.  Whether you’re an aficionado of the sonic nuances of coloratura, or your musical knowledge only goes as far as “Damn, that girl can SING!”, there is a place for you.  And that place is in the audience.  At Rigoletto.  Go!

And lastly, and it hardly bears pointing out, but I’m going to do so anyways:  Rigoletto Ribollita?!  How fun is THAT to say?


1 c bacon or pancetta, diced
1 c fennel, diced
1 c carrot, diced
1 c celery, diced
3-5 cloves garlic, chopped fine
4-5 cups kale, chopped
½-1 cup basil leaves, chopped
2 bay leaves
1 796ml (28oz) can plum tomatoes, drained (reserve liquid), and chopped
1 398ml (14oz) can cannellini beans
3-4 cups chicken or veggie stock
2 cups bread cubes.  Sourdough, or a hearty artisan loaf recommended.  Cut the crusts off, cube it up, et voila!
Salt & pepper
Parmesan cheese, grated
Extra virgin olive oil

Saute bacon a few minutes over med-high heat, then add onion, reducing heat slightly.  Stir occasionally to cook bacon evenly, even allowing a bit of crispness to develop.

Add celery, carrots, fennel and garlic.  Season with salt & pepper, and cook about 7 minutes until veggies lose their sharp crispness.

Next, add the tomatoes, kale, bay leaves, and reserved tomato liquid.  Adjust heat to a strong simmer.  Allow to cook 7-10 minutes until kale has collapsed substantially.


Pour in the stock and add the cannellini beans (including liquid).

Reduce heat, and allow to simmer for 20-25 minutes.

Remove bay leaves (if you can find them.  If not, just issue a warning to anyone who’ll be dining with you), add bread cubes and cook over low heat for at least 10 minutes, stirring occasionally (gently).

Adjust salt & pepper, ladle into bowls, and serve garnished with fresh grated parmesan cheese, and a drizzle of extra virgin olive oil.

This is one of those classic Italian items which is twice as good the second day.

So there you have it!  Food for the belly, and food for the soul.  Check out the VanCOCO page, and share the love around!