Thursday, November 12, 2009

Expert's Guide To The New Asian Megamart

' You’d think I was in Korea’

RESTAURATEUR JAE CHUNG TAKES US INSIDE H MART, THE ENORMOUS NEW KOREAN MEGAMART, FOR A COOKING LESSON LIKE NO OTHER

By Debra Samuels, Globe Correspondent November 11, 2009


BURLINGTON — Standing in front of a tower of Korean grapes, restaurateur Jae Chung surveys the new H Mart. “Wow! Now I won’t have to drive to New Jersey,’’ he says. Opened last month — the first one in New England — this H Mart is the 30th store for the New Jersey-based chain owned by Korean businessmen. It began in 1982 and at this point moves into a region in a big way. The footprint is the size of a football field. The store combines elements of Asian and American supermarkets, department store-type concessions, and a food court anchored by a French Asian bakery. Some customers look like they’re participating in a supermarket sweepstakes race. Carts are piled high with boxes threatening to topple over. All Asian cuisines are represented here but Korean products dominate. Still, the fresh food is abundant: meats, poultry, seafood, vegetables, and prepared foods.


Since it opened its doors, H Mart has been jammed. (H stands for hanahreum, literally “armful’’; the company says it means “love and care for the customers.’’) The tall, slim Chung, 46, who owns several Jae’s enterprises in Boston and Western Massachusetts, is drawn to the store, to the bins of spicy kimchi, crocks of salted seafood, sacks of grains. Chung is touring the mega-market to explain ingredients and tell us how he’d cook them. One of his chefs, Yeong Sohn, joins us.


We start at one corner of the store, where the banchan (little dishes) and kimchi (fermented vegetables) are located. This is what you would find in a supermarket in Seoul. Chung was born in Seoul and moved to Clarksburg, a tiny town in the Berkshires, when he was 13. “I was the only foreign kid in town,’’ he says. Sometimes it embarrassed him to bring friends home because of all the unusual food smells and herbs his parents were drying that might have seemed weird.


At H Mart, Chung is right at home. Banchan, which are seasoned vegetables, tiny fish, seaweed, and wild herbs, are the base of a Korean meal. Chung notes that these prepared dishes will save home cooks hours of work. “This is a real boon for the Korean housewife,’’ he says. “Making these side dishes is labor intensive.’’ His parents made all these things themselves when he was growing up. The case is brimming with 20 kinds of kimchi, which is on the table at most Korean meals. “I like the New York [brand] kimchi. It is all natural with no MSG,’’ says Chung. H Mart carries other MSG-free brands. On weekends at H Mart, women wearing rubber gloves are making fresh kimchi and the lines to buy it are long.


Chung opened his first Jae’s Cafe in the South End in 1990 followed by seven more. The original location is still open, as is another in Brookline. He was one of the first restaurateurs here to make pan-Asian food. Today he lives in North Adams with his wife, Suzanne, and 7-year-old daughter, Hanul, and has restaurants in Pittsfield and North Adams.


At H Mart, Chung sees crocks filled with raw salted seafood in spicy sauces. “I love this stuff,’’ he says, and points to pollock roe, which is thousands of tiny eggs in a natural sack. Serving instructions are simple: “Drizzle with soy sauce and sesame oil and sprinkle on minced scallions,’’ he says.


The meat case is filled with cuts you don’t see at regular supermarkets: pork belly, sliced beef and pork for stir-fries, chicken feet. Chung picks up a package of something marked “LA beef short ribs’’ (LA is a type of bone-in rib, thinly sliced for table top barbecue). He likes these. “Good marbling,’’ he says. Then a quick recipe: “Sprinkle the meat with salt and pepper and marinate in a mixture of grated Asian pear, ginger, garlic, sake, soy sauce, and sesame oil for three to four hours. Cook in a frying pan or under the broiler. Serve with red leaf lettuce, red pepper paste, some raw garlic.’’


In the seafood department, most of the fish have heads and tails intact. There are fewer boneless pieces available, but lots of ready-cut sashi mi, split blue crabs, and pre-packed seafood hot pot ingredients ready to mix with water. Lobsters are in tanks, abalone is in the freezer section, and clams and mussels are on ice, ready for customers to scoop their own into a plastic bag.


An entire department is devoted to dried seaweed. In the produce section, there’s everything from lettuce to lotus root. Chung notices chubby white radishes called mu, something like daikon; slender red and green chili peppers; and unusual varieties of mushrooms. A refrigerated case is loaded with a half dozen brands of tofu in textures from silky to firm, as well as custard-like for sundubu chigae (tofu stew). Soy bean sprouts are beside the tofu. Korean Rx for colds: “Combine garlic, beef stock, and [soy] sprouts,’’ says Chung.


The restaurateur spots a mountain of Napa cabbage, the kind used for homemade kimchi. “Thirty years ago in Clarksburg we could only get the round green kind [of cabbage]. My dad made the kimchi and buried it in the backyard - the tradition.’’ In Korea, the cold ground kept the fermenting cabbage at the perfect temperature and provided vegetables when none were in season. Now some families in Korea and here have kimchi refrigerators that control not just the temperature but also the distinctive odor of fermenting vegetables. On the way to housewares, you can see one of these nifty fridges. You’ll also find specially designed plastic ware for kimchi, and the latest in electronic rice cookers, well-designed table top grills, steamers, and tableware, including stonepot bibimbap bowls.


“I’m just so happy to see these Korean items in a store like this. Usually you can only find them in mom-and-pop stores,’’ he says. He thinks H Mart is trying to appeal to a broad spectrum of Asian and non-Asian families, but notices that most of the food and housewares are items from Korea.


We round the corner, passing a store-long aisle of noodles, and turn into an alleyway of rice and grains. Brown, white, short grain, sweet rice, and dozens of others share space with bags of barley, millet, red adzuki beans, black and white soy beans, sorghum, and lentils. “Koreans like white rice, but it has no real nutritional value,’’ says Chung. “When I was in school in Korea, the government introduced all these beans and legumes to cook with rice and improve nutrition. The teacher would check our lunch boxes and you would get hit if your rice didn’t include a healthy mix of beans.’’ Many Koreans make their own rice blends today, but premixed grains are now available for the daily pot.


An abundant market makes customers hungry. We lunch on reasonably priced dishes in the food court: bibimbap, the classic rice and vegetable pot; sundubu chigae, the soft tofu dish; ja jang noodles, a spicy Korean-Chinese favorite; tteokpokki, rice cakes shaped like small tubes bathed in a fiery sauce; and Korean sushi, called kimbap.


H Mart president William Choi says the decision to open in the suburbs reflects the large Asian population now living outside the city. In fact, most customers are Asian. Those who aren’t, like Joan McDonough and her daughter, Melanie Donlan, both of Watertown, may receive advice from grandmotherly shoppers. “Eat kimchi. It will never make you fat,’’ announces Soon Kim, a handsome and slim 74-year-old from Salem.


Chung likes the notion that Korean food is being brought into the mainstream. “You’d think I was in Korea,’’ he says.
H Mart, 3 Old Concord Road, Burlington, 781-221-4570. For locations of Jae’s restaurants, go to
www.jaescafe.com
For more photos go to The Boston Globe's website

©
Copyright 20092009 The New York Times Company


Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Carrot and daikon salad



October 14, 2009

Serves 4

Light vinegared salads, known in Japan as sunomono, can be made with most any vegetable. In Shizuo Tsuji’s “Japanese Cooking: A Simple Art,’’ the author pairs carrot and daikon radish in a light and refreshing dish with a sweet and sour dressing called amazu (the word looks like shorthand for amazing - and it is). Salt shreds of deep orange carrot and white daikon radish to release their liquid, then knead the vegetables to create icicle-like shards of daikon. The dressing is made from mild rice vinegar, sugar, and water heated and then cooled. Toss it with the crunchy vegetables and refrigerate the dish for at least 30 minutes (it’s even more flavorful if left overnight). Traditionally, the salad is served in small plates but add this mixture to a bowl of salad greens and you have an appealing variation.

1 large carrot, cut into 2-inch-by- 1/2-inch matchsticks
1 medium (1 pound) daikon radish, cut into 2-inch-by- 1/2-inch matchsticks
1 teaspoon salt
1/4 cup unseasoned rice vinegar
1 1/2 tablespoons sugar
1/4 cup water

  1. In a large bowl combine the carrot and daikon radish matchsticks. Add the salt and toss lightly. After several minutes, mix and lightly knead the vegetables with your hands. Working over a colander set in a bowl, gather up the vegetables in your hands and squeeze out the liquid. Rinse and dry the bowl. Place the vegetables in it.

  2. In a glass bowl, mix the vinegar, sugar, and water. Heat in a microwave for 1 minute or until the sugar dissolves. Alternatively, heat the mixture in a small saucepan. Cool to room temperature.

  3. Sprinkle 1 tablespoon of the vinegar mixture onto the vegetables. Mix with your hand and then squeeze the liquid from the vegetables. Discard the liquid.

  4. Add the remaining dressing to the vegetables. Cover and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes or for up to two days.

Monday, October 5, 2009

Squeeze in some lemon sorbet




By Debra Samuels, Globe Correspondent

September 9, 2009

Lemon sorbet is a refreshing dessert any time of year. At the end of summer, when local fruits are in the markets, pair them with a cool scoop of lemony ice and add a crisp cookie.

We sat down to taste six brands of lemon sorbet and among 16 tasters there was no clear favorite. Ciao Bella Lemon Sorbetto, with four votes, edged out three others with three votes each. “Most intense lemon flavor and best palate cleanser,’’ was heard repeatedly. But neither was there a clear loser; 365 Meyer Lemon Sorbet (Whole Foods Market’s house brand) was turned away by four tasters with “bitter’’ being the most common remark.

Sorbet is generally defined as containing water, fruit juice or pulp, and sugar. That’s what each brand contains, plus stabilizers and preservatives. Most are labeled “naturally fat-free.’’ Sorbet is often confused with sherbet, its creamier cousin, which can contain dairy and sometimes egg whites. That said, ingredients vary. Sorbet recipes are also made with dairy products such as cream and half-and-half. Gus Rancatore, owner of Toscanini’s and maker of icy confections, says, “I’m a traditionalist. Sherbet has milk or egg whites.’’ Many chefs ask Rancatore to make sorbets using dairy products because, he says, chefs don’t live in a rigid world of definitions.

None of our brands contain dairy or eggs. Tasting a particularly creamy sorbet, like Stop & Shop’s Lemon Sorbetto, one of our crew wrote “this is not sorbet!’’ Well apparently it is. The texture comes from stabilizers such as carrageenan, pectin, guar gum, and xanthan gum. This would explain the “gelatinous’’ and “gummy’’ comments leveled at several brands, which by the way, were easier to scoop. But “creamy’’ can also come from whipping, which is why many recipes for homemade sorbet encourage immediate consumption.

As for color, all of the brands sampled are white, with one exception. Sharon’s is lemon yellow - really turmeric yellow. The color put some tasters off: “How artificial looking! It must be food coloring,’’ one said. Others found the color to be “luscious’’ and an eye-appealing “baby-chick yellow.’’

Most sorbets are flavored with lemon juice concentrate, which could include flavorings and sugar. Only Ciao Bella has plain lemon juice and rind among its ingredient list.

Ciao Bella Lemon (Limone)
$4.99 for 1 pint
This brand was lauded for its lemony taste and grainy texture. Lemon juice is the second ingredient, the highest proportion among the competitors. “This has the most intense lemon flavor and would be the best palate cleanser.’’ “Nice icy consistency, tastes like it might have some peel in it.’’ “Delicious, looks like a sorbet. Consistency is nice and fresh.’’ Another: “Yum-o. Nice fruity flavor with a crisp texture.’’ “Acid not creamy too sherbet-y.’’ “Tangy and sweet.’’ “Icy, tastes artificial.’’ Others: “Tastes a little like Mr. Clean smells - pine-scented kitchen cleaner. But the texture is nice.’’ “Light on flavor and substance.’’

HaƤgen-Dazs Fat-Free Sorbet Zesty Lemon
$3.99 for 1 pint
“Good texture and plenty of flavor but also has a medicine-y aftertaste that is off-putting.’’ “A bit of a bitter after-taste. Too creamy. Something other than lemon is in back.’’ “OK for bitter lemon sorbet. It is too sweet and too bitter. Lacks the tart clean taste of fresh lemon and peel.’’ “Nice white smooth looking. No scent. Very smooth quite metallic, false lemon flavor.’’ “Dreadful glop of bitterness.’’ “A nice smooth blend of lemon and sweet.’’ “Good creamy.’’ “Did they add a lot of lemon flavor? Too sweet.’’ “No taste of lemon really.’’ And from one who chose it as a favorite: “Full rich ice creamy, tangy; too lemony chemical aftertaste. But still good.’’ What kind of endorsement is that?

Sharon’s All Natural Fat Free Lemon Sorbet
$2.69 for 1 pint
(This brand got three favorite votes and three least favorite.) “Tastes like mom’s lemon meringue pie!’’ “Bold lemon flavor and luscious yellow color. Love the crunch.’’ “Tart, icy, lemony . . . delicious.’’ Not everyone gushed over the color. “Why so yellow? More crunchy than smooth. My tooth hurts. First sweet, then turns sour.’’ More texture comments: “Not very creamy, but subtly lemony taste. Better once it thawed a bit. Artificial yellow color.’’ “Seems like real lemon, maybe a bit bitter in the aftertaste.’’ “Looks grainy, no smell at all.’’ “Smooth icy.’’ “Too yellow, too sweet.’’ “Consistency is not very smooth. More like flavored ice.’’

Stop & Shop Simply Enjoy Lemon Sorbetto
$4.49 for 1 liter (half gallon)
(Got three favorite votes and three least favorites.) Easiest of all to scoop. “This is not sorbet. Gelatinous texture after-feel on tongue. Overly sweet. Too much lemon oil, not enough fresh lemon.’’ “White like snowflakes. Smooth tangy refreshing, opens up the taste buds.’’ “Bitter lemon tastes artificial. Too creamy for sorbet.’’ “Very sweet, not real lemony.’’ (Lemon appears as the fifth ingredient; most other brands list it third or fourth.) “Creamy, a little bitterness in mouth.’’ “Love the smell, texture, and taste of this sorbet. It has the right amount of sweetness.’’ “Smooth, sort of creamy, light lemon flavor.’’ “White color, creamy smooth consistency, mild initial flavor, tart aftertaste.’’ “Lemony scent with a bit of extract smell. Lovely texture. Very smooth no granules. False lemon flavor. All extract, no real lemon bitter edge.’’

Whole Foods Market 365 Meyer Lemon Sorbet
$3.39 for 1 pint
“Very smooth, nice blend of sweet and tart.’’ “Remote flavor of lemon like it was near a lemon at some point. Texture is not unpleasant, just not good.’’ “Least sweet and has an aftertaste which is bitter. Texture is smooth and creamy.’’ “Bitter and too much stabilizer.’’ “White, very creamy, astringent.’’ “Gummy - OK acceptable.’’ “Creamy and a little bitter.’’ “This is too thick and acidic. Tart without lemony flavor.’’ “Rich, too lemony, too intense, smooth.’’ “Smooth white, looks like there might be flecks of rind. Lemon scent is extract-y. Flavor is bitter, too much extract but right amount of sugar. Too bad about the bitterness - it has that metallic bitter edge but nice smooth texture.’’ “Consistency excellent.’’

Whole Fruit Sorbet Lemon
$2.69 for 1 pint
Some commented: “No artificial color’’ and “nice off-white looks, smooth, scent is soft lemon.’’ Others: “Feels chemical and smooth.’’ “Not bad for a lemony sherbet. Lemon-ish and not too sweet. More creamy than I like a sorbet to be.’’ “Dense full flavored. Tangy and white. More ice cream than sorbet.’’ “Color OK. Excellent lemon flavor. Not quite as icy as it could be, but really good.’’ “Very creamy with a balanced flavor and pleasant aroma. Lacking intensity.’’ “This has a great tang. Smooth texture with a lemony fragrance you expect in a lemon sorbet.’’ “Way too tart. Doesn’t have sweetish aftertaste.’’ “More authentic fresh lemon flavor. Not as strong as others.’’ “White, smooth, tart, with very little sweet.’’

For boat's chef, some thrills and spills




Keeps crew happy with comfort food
By Debra Samuels, Globe Correspondent

September 23, 2009

GLOUCESTER HARBOR - The schooner Roseway, a 137-foot former fishing boat, lurches through the waves, and doors flap to the rhythm. time,announces Jessica Reale, who quickly secures the kitchen cabinets with bungee cords. The 26-year-old chef works quickly, holding a door closed with an elbow while hooking the cord under the cabinet before another wave knocks her and everything in the cupboard off balance. The next lurch pushes her into the electric stove, which has pot braces for the burners. A huge pot of clam chowder is practically stirring itself.

The hardest part of cooking on a boat is when I am feeling seasick,says Reale. A brownie batter in a large baking pan has pooled at one end.
Reale, an East Bridgewater native, cooks three meals a day for the 10 crew members of the Roseway, which docks in Boston Harbor during the warm months when guests aren't onboard.

The boat is used by the World Ocean School for education programs for schoolchildren. Today, there are 30 passengers - the Roseway is racing other tall ships out of Gloucester - and all will have lunch with the crew.

The chef was up an hour before the crew, preparing homemade blueberry pancakes and coffee. One by one, sleepy crew members climb the ladder from their bunks in the fosle (boatspeak for forecastle) into the cramped galley. Deck hand Margo Vanderberg, 30, grabs coffee and walks the five steps to the other end of the galley, descends into the dining area, piles pancakes on her plate, and tucks in.

We love Jess,says chief mate Andrew Kaiser, 23. Hey Jess, he asks, did you grind the flour for the pancakes?
Reale, who has a head of brown curls and a contagious laugh, is a Culinary Institute of America-trained chef. She had managed and cooked at restaurants in Florida and Maine, but had never been on a sailboat before this job. The galley is her domain and also the universal pass-through to sleeping quarters, dining room, engine room, deck, shower, and the only toilet. Storage in the kitchen is under floor boards and behind stairs; two portholes have ever-changing views.

The boat's food budget is meager. Reale spends $5.50 per person per day. You can do a lot with that if you shop smart,she says. The crew likes meatloaf, soups, and homemade breads. brought my professional books but find myself mostly using the only cookbook in the ship library, The Joy of Cooking,she says.

The Roseway sets sail for St. Croix in November. know staples will be more expensive down there, but I am looking forward to the challenge. Off the Massachusetts coastline, the crew dines on chowder. The chef uses canned clams when fresh ones aren't available. She sets a pot of creamy chowder beside ham and cheese sandwiches on homemade baguettes and adds a platter of oddly shaped brownies (they baked on a sea-induced angle).

Hours later, the Roseway, which finishes in fourth place in the race, returns to Gloucester.
On a typical day, Reale would prepare dinner now. She bought chicken earlier in the week and cooked it to make fajitas with corn tortillas and her own guacamole.

Tonight, Reale catches a break. All the crews have been invited to a potluck dinner.
Fajitas are on tomorrow's menu. Hopefully, so are calmer seas.

To learn more about the Roseway, go to http://www.roseway.com/

To hear Jess talk about her role as a chef and meet her mates watch the video taken by Boston Globe photographer John Tlumacki

Thursday, September 3, 2009

Lobster Cantonese



(Photos by Debra Samuels for The Boston Globe)

The classic method for Lobster Cantonese calls for chopping the raw crustacean - a scary proposition. Instead, start with a cooked lobster - unconventional, but perfect for squeamish cooks. This recipe is based on one from Irene Kuo’s “The Key to Chinese Cooking,’’ which does begin with live shellfish. Many markets will cook the lobsters for you. Once home, snap the claws and tails off the body. Stir-fry fermented black beans and ground pork with garlic and ginger. The liquid from the cooked lobster becomes part of the tasty sauce; the lobster in its shell protects the meat from turning chewy and still imparts flavor. Prepare ingredients in advance, line them up near the burner, and the cooking time is minimal. The results are frightfully good!

3 cooked lobsters (1 1/4 pounds each)
Juices from lobsters plus chicken stock or water to make 1 1/4 cups
2 tablespoons Chinese rice wine or sake
1/8 teaspoon black pepper
1 1/2 tablespoons canola oil
3 scallions, chopped
1 piece (1 inch) fresh ginger, finely chopped
2 cloves garlic, chopped
2 tablespoons fermented black beans, soaked for 5 minutes, drained, and chopped
1/2 pound ground pork
1 tablespoon cornstarch mixed with 2 tablespoons water
1 tablespoon sesame oil
2 eggs, lightly beaten

  1. Over a large bowl, snap off the claws and tails from the lobster (boil the bodies to make lobster stock for seafood stew for another day).

  2. With a lobster cracker, hold a claw over the same bowl and crack down the middle, catching any liquid in the bowl. Twist off the base of the claw and crack in the middle. The meat should stay intact in the shell. Repeat with remaining claws. Hold a lobster tail over the bowl and twist off the base. Lay the tail on a cutting board and with a chef’s knife or cleaver, cut the tail into 3 pieces. Repeat with remaining tails.

  3. Set a strainer over another bowl. Pour the lobster liquid through it. Measure and add enough stock or water to make 1 1/4 cups liquid. Add the rice wine or sake and pepper.

  4. Heat a large wok or deep skillet over high heat for 30 seconds. Add the oil and when it is hot, add the scallions, ginger, garlic, and black beans. Stir-fry for 1 minute. Add the pork and stir-fry 2 minutes or until the pork loses its pink color.

  5. Add the lobster liquid mixture. Bring to a boil. Add the lobster pieces, and cook, tossing with a wide spatula, until lobster is coated with sauce. Cover and continue cooking for 2 minutes.

  6. Lower the heat to medium. Stir the cornstarch mixture. Drizzle it over the lobster mixture. Add the sesame oil and cook, stirring, for 1 minute or until the sauce thickens.

  7. Pour the eggs into the pan in a circular motion. Cook, stirring gently, for 1 minute. Turn off the heat and let the mixture sit for 1 minute more.


© Copyright 2009 Globe Newspaper Company.

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

One potato Two potato


Photo by Debra Samuels for the Boston Globe

By Debra Samuels

Globe Correspondent / April 1, 2009

As Lexington resident Norma Currie explains it, she and her siblings did what many children do: "None of us would eat our vegetables," she says. But their mother was smarter than her kids. She cooked the vegetables and mashed them with potatoes. "And we loved them," says Currie, who still makes various versions of the spuds today. Sometimes it accompanies roast chicken or other meats and fish. It's a good way to have your mashed potatoes with less guilt and fewer calories. Carrots add volume and sweetness and their vitamins, of course. Spinach and mashed is another winning combination. Add rinsed spinach leaves to the hot potato water after cooking. Cover the pot and let the spinach sit for 2 minutes. The heat of the water softens the leaves, but they keep their vibrant green color.

Mashed potatoes with carrots
Serves 4

Salt and pepper, to taste
3 medium Yukon Gold or Yellow Finn potatoes (about 3/4 pound), peeled and quartered
2 medium carrots, cut into 2-inch rounds
1 tablespoon butter
1/4 cup milk

  1. In a saucepan of boiling salted water, combine the potatoes and carrots and turn the heat to medium high. Simmer for 10 minutes or until the potatoes and carrots are tender when pierced with a skewer.

  2. Drain the vegetables and transfer to a bowl. Add the butter and milk. Mash with a potato masher until the mixture is smooth. Add salt and pepper


Mashed potatoes with spinach

Serves 4

Salt and pepper, to taste
3 medium potatoes (about 3/4 pound), peeled and quartered
2 cups baby spinach leaves
1 tablespoon butter
1/4 cup milk


  1. In a saucepan of boiling salted water, cook the potatoes over medium-high heat for 10 minutes or until they are tender when pierced with a skewer.

  2. Turn off the heat and add the spinach. Cover and set aside for 2 minutes until the spinach wilts but is still bright green.


  3. Drain the vegetables and transfer to a bowl. Add the butter and milk. Mash with a potato masher until the mixture is smooth. Add salt and pepper.
    Adapted from Norma Currie


© Copyright 2009 Globe Newspaper Company.

Spicy Tuna Salad

photo for Boston Globe by Debra Samuels
Think spicy tuna and a sushi bar comes to mind. But there are other ways to meld rich fish and hot condiments. One is this composed canned tuna salad, made with the same spicy sauce used in those popular sushi rolls. You can make the same dish with shrimp, grilled salmon, smoked salmon, or leftover roast striped bass. The sauce begins with ordinary mayo, to which sesame oil and a few squirts of the Thai hot sauce sriracha are mixed in - enough to make a lip-tingling, faintly pink-colored sauce. Flake white tuna onto peppery arugula, garnish the plates with radishes for even more bite, and toss on a few cucumbers to cool the presentation. Then drizzle with spicy sauce. Not your mother’s tuna salad.
1/4 cup mayonnaise
2 teaspoons dark sesame oil
1 teaspoon sriracha sauce, or more to taste
1 bunch arugula, stems removed
2 cans (6 1/2 ounces each) solid white albacore tuna in water
1 bunch radishes, soaked to remove sand, trimmed, and quartered
2 Armenian or pickling cukes, cut into 1/2-inch cubes
2 scallions, chopped
4 small whole-wheat pita, halved and toasted

1. In a small mixing bowl, stir together the mayonnaise, sesame oil, and sriracha. Taste for seasoning and add more sriracha, if you like.
2. On each of 4 plates, arrange some of the arugula. Divide the tuna among the plates, setting it in a mound on each one. Add radishes and cucumbers.
3. Spoon the sauce over the tuna and sprinkle with scallions. Serve with toasted pita.

The flavors of Sicily, topped with tradition


Concetta checks the pizza sponge as Angela makes the sauce.

Twice a month, Concetta Cucinotta and Angela Molinario spend the day making pizza for their family in the kitchen of Cucinotta’s home in Dedham.


By Debra Samuels

Globe Correspondent / August 12, 2009

DEDHAM - The old yellow plastic tub, covered with a soft, well-worn blanket, sits on Concetta Cucinotta’s kitchen table. You can almost see the blanket moving. Under it, a mound of yeasty, bubbly dough is spilling, like molten lava, over the sides of the tub. Lively Italian folk music is coming from a CD player and Cucinotta periodically breaks into song.

It’s pizza day for Cucinotta and her sister, Angela Molinario, a ritual that takes place twice a month. The sisters spend the day shopping, cooking, and feeding their families - along with anyone else who shows up. The crowd is rarely fewer than 15.

Cucinotta, in a flowered apron, starts to tame the dough. With a flick of her wrist, she scatters flour onto a big board and kneads the mass into submission. When you start with 10 pounds of flour, this is no simple feat. She makes quick work of forming six pieces for bread, six for pizza, and at least one mound for the Sicilian calzone called scaciadda (ska-cha-da).

The sisters immigrated to the United States in the early 1970s from the village of Saponara near Messina, Sicily. Their mother, Maria Gangemi, always made pizza for the family; the daughters have continued the tradition for the last nine years. Molinario is a seamstress in Lexington; Cucinotta, now retired, worked on the housekeeping staff of Children’s Hospital Boston.

Today, they’re making sauce and toppings that include sausage, onions, peppers, and pepperoni. Molinario sautes two huge onions in olive oil. When they begin to brown and release their aroma,
she lifts them out of the skillet and stirs tomato paste and two large cans of ground tomatoes into the pan. “That’s the secret,’’ says Molinario. The tomato mixture sizzles and splatters and absorbs the onion flavors left behind. Eventually she returns the cooked onions to the skillet with dried oregano and basil, black pepper, and water.

An ornery stove that’s seen better days doesn’t always deliver consistently high heat, so the sisters jack up the temperature to 550. Somehow it turns out crusty masterpieces with an occasional burnt loaf.

Cucinotta hands off pieces of the dough to her sister, who lays one on a worn rimmed baking sheet. She presses and stretches the dough to fit the rectangular tray. Molinario grates bricks of mozzarella and lays the toppings within easy reach. “They are like a machine, these two,’’ says Enza Hart, Cucinotta’s daughter. Each pizza is spread with sauce and scattered with toppings.
One is cheese only, another pepperoni, and so on. The diminutive duo - both sisters are under 5 feet - make the pies they know their family likes.

Still singing, Cucinotta lets the loaves rise on a floured bed sheet spread on the table, covering them again with the blanket. Her calzone goes into a rectangular baking dish. She rolls a piece of dough and sets half of it in the dish; the rest hangs over the edge. She heaps on onions, potatoes, sausages, and escarole, then folds the soft dough over the top, crimping the edges shut.

Cucinotta’s husband, Giovanni, comes in through the side door. He’s been shopping in the North End and sets down his haul of groceries. Giovanni gets the first hot slice. He pours himself some potent homemade wine. Giovanni points out a photograph of himself, standing in a hard hat on an empty, soon-to-open Zakim Bridge. His daughter explains: “My dad was a construction laborer for 30 years, and he worked on the bridge. His grandkids call it Nonno’s bridge.’’
Those kids are trickling in, along with some nieces. Aunt Angela gives 13-year-old Jennifer Hart a little knot of fried dough dipped in sugar. The phone starts ringing. “Is it ready yet?’’ ask the callers.

Everyone who knows the sisters knows it’s pizza day.

© Copyright 2009 Globe Newspaper Company.

The Flavors of Sicily, Topped with Tradition














































Concetta checks the pizza dough sponge while Angela makes sauce













Twice a month, Concetta Cucinotta and Angela Molinario spend the day making pizza for their family in the kitchen of Cucinotta’s home in Dedham.


By Debra Samuels
Globe Correspondent / August 12, 2009


DEDHAM - The old yellow plastic tub, covered with a soft, well-worn blanket, sits on Concetta Cucinotta’s kitchen table. You can almost see the blanket moving. Under it, a mound of yeasty, bubbly dough is spilling, like molten lava, over the sides of the tub. Lively Italian folk music is coming from a CD player and Cucinotta periodically breaks into song.
It’s pizza day for Cucinotta and her sister, Angela Molinario, a ritual that takes place twice a month. The sisters spend the day shopping, cooking, and feeding their families - along with anyone else who shows up. The crowd is rarely fewer than 15.
Cucinotta, in a flowered apron, starts to tame the dough. With a flick of her wrist, she scatters flour onto a big board and kneads the mass into submission. When you start with 10 pounds of flour, this is no simple feat. She makes quick work of forming six pieces for bread, six for pizza, and at least one mound for the Sicilian calzone called scaciadda (ska-cha-da).
The sisters immigrated to the United States in the early 1970s from the village of Saponara near Messina, Sicily. Their mother, Maria Gangemi, always made pizza for the family; the daughters have continued the tradition for the last nine years. Molinario is a seamstress in Lexington; Cucinotta, now retired, worked on the housekeeping staff of Children’s Hospital Boston.
Today, they’re making sauce and toppings that include sausage, onions, peppers, and pepperoni. Molinario sautes two huge onions in olive oil. When they begin to brown and release their aroma, she lifts them out of the skillet and stirs tomato paste and two large cans of ground tomatoes into the pan. “That’s the secret,’’ says Molinario. The tomato mixture sizzles and splatters and absorbs the onion flavors left behind. Eventually she returns the cooked onions to the skillet with dried oregano and basil, black pepper, and water.
An ornery stove that’s seen better days doesn’t always deliver consistently high heat, so the sisters jack up the temperature to 550. Somehow it turns out crusty masterpieces with an occasional burnt loaf.
Cucinotta hands off pieces of the dough to her sister, who lays one on a worn rimmed baking sheet. She presses and stretches the dough to fit the rectangular tray. Molinario grates bricks of mozzarella and lays the toppings within easy reach. “They are like a machine, these two,’’ says Enza Hart, Cucinotta’s daughter. Each pizza is spread with sauce and scattered with toppings. One is cheese only, another pepperoni, and so on. The diminutive duo - both sisters are under 5 feet - make the pies they know their family likes.
Still singing, Cucinotta lets the loaves rise on a floured bed sheet spread on the table, covering them again with the blanket. Her calzone goes into a rectangular baking dish. She rolls a piece of dough and sets half of it in the dish; the rest hangs over the edge. She heaps on onions, potatoes, sausages, and escarole, then folds the soft dough over the top, crimping the edges shut.
Cucinotta’s husband, Giovanni, comes in through the side door. He’s been shopping in the North End and sets down his haul of groceries. Giovanni gets the first hot slice. He pours himself some potent homemade wine. Giovanni points out a photograph of himself, standing in a hard hat on an empty, soon-to-open Zakim Bridge. His daughter explains: “My dad was a construction laborer for 30 years, and he worked on the bridge. His grandkids call it Nonno’s bridge.’’
Those kids are trickling in, along with some nieces. Aunt Angela gives 13-year-old Jennifer Hart a little knot of fried dough dipped in sugar. The phone starts ringing. “Is it ready yet?’’ ask the callers.
Everyone who knows the sisters knows it’s pizza day.


© Copyright 2009 Globe Newspaper Company.

The Flavors of Sicily Topped with Tradition



























Twice a month, Concetta Cucinotta and Angela Molinario spend the day making pizza for their family in the kitchen of Cucinotta’s home in Dedham.
(Photos By Erik Jacobs for The Boston Globe)
By Debra Samuels
Globe Correspondent / August 12, 2009
DEDHAM - The old yellow plastic tub, covered with a soft, well-worn blanket, sits on Concetta Cucinotta’s kitchen table. You can almost see the blanket moving. Under it, a mound of yeasty, bubbly dough is spilling, like molten lava, over the sides of the tub. Lively Italian folk music is coming from a CD player and Cucinotta periodically breaks into song.
It’s pizza day for Cucinotta and her sister, Angela Molinario, a ritual that takes place twice a month. The sisters spend the day shopping, cooking, and feeding their families - along with anyone else who shows up. The crowd is rarely fewer than 15.
Cucinotta, in a flowered apron, starts to tame the dough. With a flick of her wrist, she scatters flour onto a big board and kneads the mass into submission. When you start with 10 pounds of flour, this is no simple feat. She makes quick work of forming six pieces for bread, six for pizza, and at least one mound for the Sicilian calzone called scaciadda (ska-cha-da).
The sisters immigrated to the United States in the early 1970s from the village of Saponara near Messina, Sicily. Their mother, Maria Gangemi, always made pizza for the family; the daughters have continued the tradition for the last nine years. Molinario is a seamstress in Lexington; Cucinotta, now retired, worked on the housekeeping staff of Children’s Hospital Boston.
Today, they’re making sauce and toppings that include sausage, onions, peppers, and pepperoni. Molinario sautes two huge onions in olive oil. When they begin to brown and release their aroma, she lifts them out of the skillet and stirs tomato paste and two large cans of ground tomatoes into the pan. “That’s the secret,’’ says Molinario. The tomato mixture sizzles and splatters and absorbs the onion flavors left behind. Eventually she returns the cooked onions to the skillet with dried oregano and basil, black pepper, and water.
An ornery stove that’s seen better days doesn’t always deliver consistently high heat, so the sisters jack up the temperature to 550. Somehow it turns out crusty masterpieces with an occasional burnt loaf.
Cucinotta hands off pieces of the dough to her sister, who lays one on a worn rimmed baking sheet. She presses and stretches the dough to fit the rectangular tray. Molinario grates bricks of mozzarella and lays the toppings within easy reach. “They are like a machine, these two,’’ says Enza Hart, Cucinotta’s daughter. Each pizza is spread with sauce and scattered with toppings. One is cheese only, another pepperoni, and so on. The diminutive duo - both sisters are under 5 feet - make the pies they know their family likes.
Still singing, Cucinotta lets the loaves rise on a floured bed sheet spread on the table, covering them again with the blanket. Her calzone goes into a rectangular baking dish. She rolls a piece of dough and sets half of it in the dish; the rest hangs over the edge. She heaps on onions, potatoes, sausages, and escarole, then folds the soft dough over the top, crimping the edges shut.
Cucinotta’s husband, Giovanni, comes in through the side door. He’s been shopping in the North End and sets down his haul of groceries. Giovanni gets the first hot slice. He pours himself some potent homemade wine. Giovanni points out a photograph of himself, standing in a hard hat on an empty, soon-to-open Zakim Bridge. His daughter explains: “My dad was a construction laborer for 30 years, and he worked on the bridge. His grandkids call it Nonno’s bridge.’’
Those kids are trickling in, along with some nieces. Aunt Angela gives 13-year-old Jennifer Hart a little knot of fried dough dipped in sugar. The phone starts ringing. “Is it ready yet?’’ ask the callers.
Everyone who knows the sisters knows it’s pizza day.
© Copyright 2009 Globe Newspaper Company.

The word on rotisserie bird




The aromas from five rotisserie chickens, purchased just before the tasters arrived, were so enticing that the group of six sat at the table, forks at the ready, and let out a collective "Mmm." All of the birds had come out of their ovens between 4 and 5 p.m., timed perfectly for shoppers on their way home from work.

Debra Samuels

March 25, 2009
By Debra Samuels

Globe Correspondent / March 25, 2009

The aromas from five rotisserie chickens, purchased just before the tasters arrived, were so enticing that the group of six sat at the table, forks at the ready, and let out a collective "Mmm." All of the birds had come out of their ovens between 4 and 5 p.m., timed perfectly for shoppers on their way home from work.

Many markets have the birds on view doing their slow pirouettes on spits behind glass-door ovens. When done, the chickens are packed and placed under warming lights. We chose the plain flavor each store had to offer but only one bird was truly plain. Others were roasted with spices. Shaw's supermarket, Market Basket, and Roche Bros. list ingredients that include a solution of water, salt, sodium phosphates, and sundry other items (some up to 20 percent).

The winner was Shaw's Sea Salt and Pepper chicken, chosen by four tasters, labeled Culinary Circle. A friendly staff person at Shaw's told me they cook chickens every three hours (all the stores are on similar schedules) and if you're willing to take home a cold bird, it's $2 less. "It's not old, its just cold," she said. Boston Market did not list ingredients on its package; if it did, salt would be at the top. It garnered one best vote but was deemed way too salty for the others. The only bird without spices was Whole Foods Market's, which got four least favorite votes; most found it dry and tasteless.

Prices range from $4 to $10 for a whole chicken regardless of weight. Not bad for feeding a family, considering there will probably be leftovers for a sandwich or at the very least bones for a tasty chicken soup.

Culinary Circle, a Shaw's brand ($6.99)
Packaged in a domed plastic container.
This chicken with sea salt and black pepper received consistently high scores across the categories. On appearance: "Looks appetizing, color is good." "Browned just right." "Best color - evenly roasted." Taste: "Breast is moist and delicious. Thigh is moist and tasty." "Juicy thigh; juicy breast." " Skin looks appetizing and is tasty too." "Not overcooked." Aroma: "Smells delicious." Only one didn't join the love fest: "Why no flavor? High marks for being moist, low marks for flavor."

Boston Market ($8.29)
Packaged on an aluminum tray in a lined hot bag.
The overwhelming consensus: way too salty. "More salt than could possibly be healthy. The chef must have stock in Morton's," said one. Chosen best by our resident salt lover and worst by another who found the "legs salty, and the back not done." Someone else found "thigh somewhat moist and very salty." The appearance received low marks from two for uneven coloration. "Bird doesn't look appetizing, burned markings are uneven." "Color is not attractive - too pale." As to size, "Puny," sniffed one as she examined this bird. Some found the meat and texture good. "Moist white meat, moist dark meat." "White meat is very tasty, but the skin is soft." And finally the only comment about the aroma: "There is none."

Whole Foods Market
Plain Rotisserie Chicken ($9.99)
Packaged in a domed plastic container.
Apparently chicken being the only ingredient isn't enough. And the skin wasn't appealing either. "Doesn't look done enough." "Not browned enough. Pale and on the small side." "Looks like cardboard, tastes like chalk." The texture was indeed dismissed by all with one word: "Dry." If other birds were too salty, this one lacked it entirely. "Thigh: no salt! Breast: no salt!" "It's flavorless," announced one. But another said, "Dark meat is tastier" if she had to choose between white and dark. Then this: "Tiny wings and tiny legs." As the Borscht Belt line goes: "It tasted terrible - and there wasn't enough."

Roche Bros.
The Kitchen's Rotisserie Chicken ($6.99)
Packaged in a domed plastic container.
One person was very enthusiastic and picked it as a favorite. "Most inviting, visually dark. The taste is very moist and balanced." Another echoed that. "Looked good and the breast is plump." "Dark and white meat tasty and moist." "Not too salty - good!" One liked the way it looked. "Color is good, looks appetizing." But two others thought it looked burnt. One person thought the bird "isn't easy to cut." And in spite of the chicken being carried home in the domed container, with moisture collecting inside, two tasters commented that "the skin is crispy" and "somewhat crispy."

Market Basket
Perdue Rotisserie Chicken ($3.99)
Packaged on a foam black tray wrapped with plastic wrap.
This bird received relatively good marks for appearance. "Very even color; darkest of the five." "Color is OK but looks dry." On looks and texture: "Dry, crisp outside. Moist inside." One found it to have "a mushy texture overall." But many found the "white meat dry and the dark moist." "It seems overcooked but whatever is on the coating makes it feel moist," said another. Taste drew these remarks: "It tastes good, enough salt." "The flavor is OK not spicy." "Missing a spice or two or three."


© Copyright 2009 Globe Newspaper Company.

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Feast day calls for a special sweet

photo by: Debra Samuels Zeppole with vanilla cream and amarena cherries


By Debra Samuels
Globe Correspondent / March 18, 2009
In Italy tomorrow, men named Joseph and women named Josephine will hand out zeppole, a Neopolitan pastry of fried dough filled with cream, to family and friends to mark the feast of San Giuseppe. Closer to home, this patron saint of families is given his due at Italian bakeries in the area.
At Modern Pastry in the North End, baker Dago Ortez has been making zeppole for 19 years. Ortez uses an old-fashioned scale with free weights to measure his ingredients; the dough is fried twice and fillings are made from scratch. "I make these with my heart," says Ortez. Originally from El Salvador, Ortez was taught the art of making zeppole by Giovanni Picariello, whose son John, a sixth-generation baker, now owns the bakery with his sister Rosaria and mother Josephine.
Like many labor-intensive pastries, zeppole are no longer made by the women in the household. "My mother-in-law is from Sicily and she used to make them, but she doesn't do it anymore," says Paul Ursino, owner of Salem Foods, an Italian deli in Waltham. So Italian bakeries have become the surrogate nonne (grandmothers), and their pastry chefs work feverishly during the weeks leading up to the feast, known here as Saint Joseph's Day. Ortez says he can make, and sell out of, 400 zeppole a day; as Saint Joseph's approaches, he sometimes makes up to 1,000 daily.
Zeppole vary from region to region but are basically made of a choux paste (cream puff) dough. At Modern Pastry, Ortez's movements are like a choreographed dance sequence. He brings a huge pot of water and fat to a boil, then pours it into a commercial-size mixer. Then he adds the measured flour in one movement and sets a large paddle to work combining this into a paste. Ortez has ready a 2-quart metal pitcher filled with 160 eggs that he rhythmically cracks - klink, crack, klink, crack, klink, crack - adding three at a time to the paste. Using only his eyes and experience, he knows when to add the next three, and the next three, until the paste is a perfect consistency. There is no rushing this process.
Next he scoops the paste with a rubber spatula into long pastry bags fitted with a star tip and pipes large rings onto a baking sheet covered with parchment paper. Two cauldrons of hot oil are ready. Ortez slips the rings from one sheet into one of the pots. Picariello explains: "We fry the rings in two different vats of oil. One at a low temperature - it helps the zeppole rise. The other, very hot, where they cook, expand in size, and fill the entire surface of the cauldron."
In constant motion, Ortez sways back and forth between the two vats swirling the zeppole until they are perfect. With a wire basket he scoops these amber jewels from the bubbling oil and sets them on a baking sheet. Piled high atop a glass case, they wait to be plucked and filled to order with a vanilla custard made from whole milk on the premises and studded with sweet and sour ruby red amarena cherries, also freshly made, and sprinkled with powdered sugar. Other fillings available are ricotta cream or chocolate custard; the zeppole sell for $3 apiece.
Teresa Scialoia is on her way back to Florida and is stocking up on some favorites at the bakery before heading to the airport. "I used to work here so whenever I come back I stop by. Too bad I can't take the zeppole on the plane."
She is joined by her sister-in-law Carolina from Medford and a friend from Saugus named Fran Contino. Both have family members with the name Joseph. "This is the only place I come" for zeppole, says Contino, eyeing the pastries. Carolina will return with her 21-year-old son, Joseph, who will buy a dozen. "It is our tradition," she says.
"People want me to have the zeppole all year round," says Picariello, "but then it wouldn't be special."
Modern Pastry, 257 Hanover St., Boston, 617-523-3783 and 20 Salem St., Medford, 781-396-3618; http://www.modernpastry.com/
© Copyright 2009 Globe Newspaper Company.

Monday, March 9, 2009

Maharashtra fish curry


In this fish curry from the Maharashtra region in western India, you get both delicate and piquant in one dish. Coconut milk makes the sauce creamy but you get plenty of heat and flavor with a balanced blend of spices. Most Indian cooks toast and grind whole spices - some do this daily - but Renu Dvivedi, an Indian cooking teacher in Greenwich, Conn., and Dubai, says dried spices will work; buy them in small quantities and use them within 6 months. The spices are sauteed initially with onion and green chili pepper. Then stir in the coconut milk, and add thick white fish fillets such as haddock, cod, pollock, or sole, along with zucchini. Tuck the thinner sections of the fish under the thicker parts to create a uniform size for cooking. The fish and vegetable are bathed in a golden, aromatic sauce. Rice rounds out this exotic meal.

1 1/2 pounds white flesh fillets (haddock, cod, pollock, sole)

2 tablespoons oil 1 large onion, finely chopped

1 small green chili, seeded and finely chopped

2 1/2 teaspoons ground cumin 2 teaspoons ground coriander

1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper 1/4 teaspoon black pepper, or to taste

2 cloves garlic, finely chopped

2 tablespoons unsweetened coconut flakes

2 tablespoons water

1 teaspoon salt, or to taste

1/2 teaspoon turmeric

1 cup unsweetened coconut milk

1 large zucchini, sliced into 1/2-inch rounds

1/4 cup chopped fresh cilantro

1 lemon, cut into slices


1. Tuck the thinner pieces of the fish under the thicker ones to make uniform pieces.

2. In a large skillet over medium heat, heat the oil. Add the onion and chili. Cook, stirring often, for 5 minutes or until the onion is golden.

3. Meanwhile, in a small bowl, combine the cumin, coriander, and cayenne and black peppers. Stir the spices into the skillet with the garlic and coconut flakes. Cook for 2 minutes, stirring occasionally. Stir in the water to form a paste; cook 1 minute more.

4. Add the salt, turmeric, and coconut milk. Bring to a boil. Lower the heat; simmer for 5 minutes.

5. Place the fish in the sauce. Set the zucchini at the edges. Cover and simmer for 5 minutes. Remove the cover and cook 3 minutes more or until the fish is done. Sprinkle with cilantro and garnish with lemons.

Adapted from Renu Dvivedi

Monday, February 16, 2009

Quick mix for chocolate fix

Photo by Debra Samuels for the Boston Globe

Debra Samuels Globe Correspondent / February 11, 2009

Instant cocoa mixes are made for the moments when you come in from shoveling, can't feel your fingers or toes, and need something hot and nourishing - fast. This easy hot cocoa mix requires only boiling water. To make it, mix nonfat dried milk with high-quality unsweetened cocoa powder and a modest amount of sugar. Dried milk is made from milk that's fortified with vitamins A and D. Carnation brand yields the best results. After you stir your homemade mix into a cup of hot water, add mini marshmallows with a few chocolate chips for extra melting richness.
Turn the cocoa mix into a pudding treat by adding cornstarch. Pudding is one of the first things kids learn to cook, stirring the mixture with a long-handled wooden spoon, waiting for the magic moment when the chocolate liquid turns gooey and the wooden spoon turns into a chocolate lollipop. This pudding firms up in the refrigerator but still has a soft creamy texture. Add chocolate chips to this, too, for an intense kick. You'll defrost completely.

Recipes
Hot cocoa mix
Makes about six 8-ounce servings

1 1/3 cups (one 3.2 ounce packet) nonfat dried milk
1/2 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
1/2 cup sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 cup mini marshmallows
1/4 chocolate chips

1. In a bowl, combine the dried milk, cocoa, sugar and salt . Store in an airtight container.
2. In a separate bowl mix the marshmallows and chocolate chips. Store separately in a plastic zipper bag.
3. Use as directed.

Hot cocoa
Serves 1

1/4 cup cocoa mix (see recipe)
1 cup boiling water
Handful mini marshmallows and chocolate chips

1. In a large mug, combine the cocoa mix and boiling water. Stir until combined.
2. Sprinkle with marshmallows and chocolate chip.

Chocolate pudding mix
Makes about ten 1/2-cup servings

1 1/3 cups (3.2 ounce packet) nonfat dried milk
1/2 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
1/2 cup sugar
1/3 cup cornstarch
1/4 teaspoon salt

1. In a bowl, combine the dried milk, cocoa, sugar, cornstarch, and salt.
2. Store in an airtight container. Use as directed.

Chocolate pudding
Serves 2

1/2 cup chocolate pudding mix (see recipe)
1 cup cold water
1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract
8 bittersweet chocolate chips (optional)

1. Have on hand 2 ramekins or small bowls (1/2-cup capacity each).
2. In a small saucepan over medium heat, combine the pudding mix and water. Cook the mixture, stirring constantly with a wooden spoon, until it comes to a boil. Continue cooking for 30 seconds.
3. Turn off the heat and add the vanilla and chocolate chips, if using. Take a piece of plastic wrap and set it directly on top of the pudding. This will keep a skin from forming. Let the pudding cool for 15 minutes until it is room temperature. Spoon the pudding into the ramekins or bowls. Refrigerate for 1 hour.

Monday, February 9, 2009

Gifts that keep on giving

Gifts that keep on giving
In the right hands, cookware makes for happy returns

By Debra Samuels, Globe Correspondent December 22, 2008

If you're still looking for a holiday gift, think outside the mall. In fact, think outside all your usual places. The Institute of Contemporary Art's museum shop offers many ultra-hip selections (including an index of chopping boards so you don't mix chicken with veggies). Or head to the North End to Salem Street True Value Hardware, where ravioli molds are nestled beside pizzelle makers. If the person on your list is practical, you might find something at BMS Paper Co. in Jamaica Plain. It's not just paper, but all manner of objects for the sweet and savory professional or home kitchen.
The ICA's gift shop is just a few steps down from the glassed-in lobby. Artful displays range from a funky Banana Bunker ($4.95) to store in your briefcase or knapsack, to the graceful Asian-inspired porcelain teapot ($165). Hard plastic Solo drinking cups ($1.99) are playfully arranged and based on the undulating soft Solo cup landscape in an exhibit by artist Tara Donovan. Retail operations manager Victor Oliveira draws inspiration for his products from ICA shows. U+, the high end of the Umbra kitchen line, is a favorite throughout the store. The company's elegant salad set, called Ensalada ($99), includes a thick glass bowl (red or white) with a pair of magnetic stainless servers that fit together like a puzzle. Chilewich's op-arty white vinyl dots come as placemats ($6.95) or table runners ($24.95).
The Knot Wine Rack ($138) is beautiful even when empty. That pesky business of keeping poultry away from other kitchen tasks is solved with the Index Chopping Board System ($75), which integrates four colored boards in a sleek storage unit. Off kilter and in neon, Hula Vodka and Tumbler Glasses (four for $29.95 and $39.95) may tickle a friend with a sense of humor.
Ken Rothman's family has owned the North End shop Salem Street True Value Hardware for 44 years. In the window, a kaleidoscope of enamelware colanders ($16.99 to 29.99) is your first clue that there's more here than plungers. Mindful of his location, Rothman stocks a selection of hand-cranked pasta makers ($69.99), wood gnocchi boards ($6.99), ravioli stamps ($7.99), and pizzelle makers ($69.99).
Bialetti stovetop espresso makers range from one cup ($21.99) to the larger Mukka Express ($89.99). You'll also find espresso cups and saucers, available in singletons or sets of four ($4.99 to $8.99). (When you're done, walk a few paces to Polcari's at 105 Salem St. for a pound of beans to go with the new coffee maker.) True Value also carries Terra Allegra, an earthy 5 1/2-quart clay baker ($89.99) with a deep red glaze for beans, soups, and cassoulets. Use this pot directly on the burner with a heat diffuser under it, in the oven, in the microwave, or on an outdoor grill. Gloveables ($14.99), those fun rubber gloves, are for friends who want to be fashionable at the sink; glass storage containers and spice jars are for filling before you give away; and a selec tion of cast iron, the longest-lasting and most practical cookware, is for giving away and buying for yourself too.
Don't be misled by the name BMS Paper Co. Paper products are only part of what's in this cavernous treasure chest of a store. The place also sells restaurant and baking supplies, industrial-size jars, canned and frozen foods, and spices. Owner Bob Harrington says people come into his Jamaica Plain store and "wander around for hours." To that end, they might find a 100-quart stock pot ($149) a more practical 8-quart size ($25), and every capacity in between. Whatever you see comes in incremental sizes. Ladles, for instance, go from 1 ounce ($2.29) to 32 ounces ($7.99); mixing bowls start at 3/4 quart ($1) and go up to 16 quarts ($12.75). Whisks, slotted spoons, tongs, and spatulas hang together in a collage. There's a whole section devoted to old-fashioned diner supplies like thick white American-made dishes and mugs. You can even buy those stainless steel cake stands with plexiglass tops that house mile-high frosted confections ($25.99 for a top and stand). Long-handled wood pizza paddles range from $18 to $30.
It's a good bet people will be cooking more at home next year. Your gifts may play starring roles in the months to come.
BMS Paper Co., 3390 Washington St., Jamaica Plain, 617-522-1122.
Institute of Contemporary Art, 100 Northern Ave., Boston, 617-478-3163, www.icastore.org.
Salem Street True Value Hardware, 89 Salem St., North End, Boston, 617-523-4759.

Bap till you drop

Bap till you drop
By Debra Samuels, Globe Correspondent November 5, 2008

In Korea, some foods trickled down from the Imperial palace and others have humbler origins. Bibimbap seems to be somewhere in the middle - a dish thought to have been introduced to Korean monarchy by the court of China, but also served to farmers in their fields.
This layered specialty consists of rice, meat or seafood, and seasoned vegetables, topped with an egg. It's as much a part of the Korean table as risotto is to Italy or paella to Spain. Unlike those dishes, bibimbap isn't made with uncooked rice, but rather with the cooked grains, which makes it more akin to Chinese fried rice. In this country, look on the menu of any Korean restaurant, and you'll find at least one version of bibimbap. In Korea, there are restaurants that specialize in the dish.
Ingredients vary according to region and season. Bibimbap can be served hot or at room temperature. A stone pot version, called dolsot bibimbap, is made in a well-seasoned stone bowl ($25 at Korean markets), which produces a crisp, crunchy bottom. When it's done, the rice continues to cook and crackle from the heat of the stone. Whatever the cooking pot, the dish always contains vegetables, which might include bean sprouts, carrots, cucumber, and spinach. After cooking, the ingredients are combined with a flourish and finished with sesame oil and spicy red pepper sauce. Hence the name bibim (mixed) bap (rice).
Every Korean mother prepares the dish. "Making bibimbap was a way for my mom to clean out the fridge of all the leftover side dishes," explains Kiki Oh, owner of the Bibimbab Cafe in London, made famous by Margaret Drabble's novel "The Red Queen," which starts in 18th-century Korea and ends with Drabble herself enjoying a bowl of bibimbap in Oh's cafe.
At home, bibimbap is a project. Unlike Chinese fried rice - where all the vegetables are stir-fried together and mixed into the rice - bibimbap's vegetables are cooked separately before they're added to the grains, which accentuates individual characteristics such as sweet, crunchy, salty.
Some cooks think mixing the dish at the end of cooking is important to how it tastes. At Seoul Food restaurant in Cambridge, the servers want you to enjoy the dish properly, so you may find your spoon pulled out of your hand and your dish folded together with the runny egg by one of the staff.
Boston University graduate student Kelly O'Leary is besotted with Korean food in general and bibimbap in particular. O'Leary, chef at the Bayridge residence in Back Bay, is in the Master of Liberal Arts program in gastronomy. "I just love the beauty of the dish," says O'Leary, who is writing a paper on bibimbap. "I eat a dish and then deconstruct it." Recently she attended a Korean food festival in New York, where a 500-pound bowl of bibimbap was served to hundreds of passersby in Manhattan's Koreatown.
To make the dish, use an old-fashioned American cast-iron skillet, which gives the rice its nice texture and holds in the heat as you serve it. Consider the presentation more relaxed than royal.
Debra Samuels is coauthor with Taekyung Chung of "The Korean Table."

*For photos on how to make bibimbap go to: http://www.boston.com/lifestyle/food/gallery/05bibimbap/

RECIPE
Bibimbap Recipe
Serves 4

Make bibimbap in a deep cast-iron skillet, which produces a crispy crust on the bottom, or a nonstick skillet. The dish consists of rice and toppings, including an egg. Here are instructions for bean sprouts, carrot salad, cucumber salad, spinach, beef, and a tangy red pepper dressing. Use about 1 cup of each. This recipe has one egg, but you can also make one for each person. Add them to the bowls after serving.

SPROUTS
1/2 cup water
1 teaspoon salt
12 ounces soybean sprouts
2 scallions, chopped
1 tablespoon toasted sesame seeds
1 tablespoon dark sesame oil

1. In a medium saucepan, combine the water, salt, and sprouts. Bring to a boil, reduce the heat to low, cover, and steam for 5 minutes.
2. Strain the sprouts and transfer to a bowl. Add the scallion, sesame seeds, and sesame oil.

CARROTS
1 tablespoon dark sesame oil
4 carrots, cut into matchsticks
1/2 teaspoon sea salt

1. In a skillet, heat the oil over medium heat. Add the carrots and salt. Stir-fry for 2 minutes.
2. Remove them from the pan.

CUCUMBERS
4 Armenian or pickling cucumbers or 1/2 English cucumber, thinly sliced
1 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons red pepper dressing (see below)
1 tablespoon toasted sesame seeds

1. In a large bowl, toss the cucumbers and salt; set aside for 5 minutes. Gently squeeze the liquid from the cucumbers. Transfer to a bowl.
2. Add the dressing. Sprinkle with sesame seeds.
RED PEPPER DRESSING
2 tablespoons Korean red pepper paste (from a Korean grocery)
1 tablespoon rice or cider vinegar
1 teaspoon honey
1 tablespoon apple juice or water
2 teaspoons sesame oil

1. In a medium bowl, whisk together the pepper paste, vinegar, honey, juice or water, and sesame oil.
2. Set the dressing aside.

SPINACH
1 pound fresh spinach, rinsed and stemmed
2 tablespoons toasted sesame seeds
2 tablespoons dark sesame oil
1 teaspoon salt

1. In a pot of boiling water, cook the spinach for 1 minute. Drain and rinse with cold water. Squeeze out the water by the handfuls. Chop coarsely.
3. Transfer the spinach to a bowl. Add sesame seeds, oil, and salt.

BEEF
2 ounces beef rib eye, cut into strips (or use ground beef)
2 teaspoons soy sauce
1/2 teaspoon sesame oil
1 teaspoon brown sugar

1. In a bowl, combine the beef, soy sauce, sesame oil, and sugar; marinate for 15 minutes.
2. Heat a small skillet. Stir-fry the meat for 2 minutes; set aside.

ASSEMBLY
2 tablespoons sesame oil, plus more for sprinkling
3 cups cooked white rice
1 egg, fried sunny-side up
3 tablespoons red pepper dressing (see above)

1. Set a 10-inch skillet over medium heat. When it is hot, add 2 tablespoons of sesame oil. Heat for 1 minute.
2. Add the rice and spread it around the bottom of the pot to form an even layer. Cook for several minutes or until the rice begins to brown on the bottom and you hear the grains sizzle.
3. Carefully arrange each of the seasoned salads on top of the rice, grouping them like the spokes of a wheel. Set the beef in the center. Continue heating for 2 minutes. Set the egg in the center.
4. To serve: Add the dressing and fold the rice, vegetables, egg, and meat together, scraping the bottom of the pot to distribute the crust. Serve in individual bowls, sprinkled sparingly with sesame oil and extra dressing. Adapted from "The Korean Table"

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Chinese chicken soup casserole

Photo By Debra Samuels
Globe Correspondent / January 21, 2009

This Chinese chicken hot pot combines the heartiness of a casserole with a light, warming chicken broth. Slices of fresh ginger root and scallions are two aromatics that signal that this is not Grammy Greenberg's Jewish penicillin. But like hers and other pots of chicken soup, this begins with a whole bird. Here, it's cut up and browned first, which cuts the simmering time to 20 minutes. Add strands of transparent noodles, which float like threads among the pieces of chicken. Soy sauce seasons the broth, along with fresh shiitake mushrooms (or use soaked dried shiitakes and add the soaking liquid to the broth). Serve bowls of steamed white or brown rice beside the brimming bowls of soup. You'll put a smile on any grandmother's face.

Recipe
2 ounces transparent noodles
2 tablespoons canola oil
3 thick slices fresh ginger
3 scallions 2 halved and thinly sliced
1 small onion thinlt sliced
1 frying chicken, cut up ( cut breasts cut into thirds)

1 tablespoon soy sauce
Salt and pepper to taste
3 1/2 cups water
10 fresh shiitake mushrooms, halved
1 small head Chinese (Napa) cabbage, cut into quarters, with stem intact
1. In a medium bowl, combine the noodles and cold water to cover; set aside for 30 minutes.
2. In a large flameproof casserole over high heat, heat the oil for 30 seconds. Add the ginger, scallions, and onion. Cook, stirring constantly, for 1 minute.
3. Add the chicken pieces and sprinkle with salt and pepper. Brown on both sides for 2 minutes.
4. Sprinkle the chicken with soy sauce and continue cooking
for 1 minute. Transfer the
chicken, onion mixture, and juices in the pan to a bowl. Wipe out the pan.
5. Add the water, mushrooms, and cabbage pieces. Nestle the chicken and onion mixture among the vegetables. Tip the juices from the bowl into the pan. Bring to a boil, lower the heat, and cover the pan. Simmer for 20 minutes.
6. Drain the noodles and add to the soup. Cook for 5 minutes more. Taste for seasoning and add more salt or soy sauce, if you like. Return the soup to a boil. Cook for 1 minute.
7. In four large bowls, place a quarter of the cabbage, some of the chicken pieces, and mushrooms. Ladle the broth into the bowls and set the noodles on top. Sprinkle with scallions and more pepper.
Adapted from "The Key to Chinese Cooking."

Monday, January 12, 2009

Kasha varnishkes

By Debra Samuels, Globe Correspondent December 17, 2008

Serves 8
Eastern-European Jewish immigrants brought kasha varnishkes to this country at the turn of the 20th century. Kasha is roasted buckwheat groats; varnishkes means noodles in Yiddish (bow ties are now classic), and Wolff's Kasha is the brand most cooks use. Mix eggs into uncooked groats to keeps the groats firm. The grains cook in about 10 minutes. Add sauteed mushrooms and let sit for five minutes. The dish goes with beef brisket, or can be a vegetarian entree with more veggies. This is stick-to-your-ribs cuisine.


1 teaspoon salt, and more for the pasta water
8 ounces bow tie pasta
4 tablespoons canola oil
1 large onion, coarsely chopped
2 celery stalks, coarsely chopped
2eggs, beaten to mix
2cups coarse kasha
4cups water
1/2teaspoon pepper, or to taste
10ounces white mushrooms, sliced


1. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Add the bow ties and cook, stirring, for 10 minutes or until the pasta is tender; drain.
2. In a large skillet, heat 3 tablespoons of the oil. Add the onion and celery. Cook, stirring often, for 5 minutes.
3. In a bowl, combine the eggs and kasha. Add the kasha mixture to the onion mixture. Cook, stirring constantly, until the kasha is dry and the grains are separated.
4. Add the water, salt, and pepper. Bring to a boil, cover, and turn the heat to low. Cook for 5 minutes or until all the liquid is absorbed.
5. Meanwhile, in another skillet, heat the remaining 1 tablespoon oil. Cook the mushrooms for 4 minutes or until their liquid evaporates. Stir the mushrooms into the kasha. Cover and set aside for 5 minutes.
6. Stir in the bow ties. Add more salt and pepper, if you like. Adapted from Wolff's Kasha


© Copyright 2009 The New York Times Company

Bowled Over



TASTE KITCHEN: TOASTED O'S CEREAL

Bowled over
By Debra Samuels
Globe Correspondent / January 7, 2009

In a supermarket, the breakfast cereal aisle is a football field-long corridor. Some of have morphed into many other brands. Recently, nine members of a food and nutrition-oriented 4-H club, ranging in age from 6 to 17, tasted five brands of toasted O's. The young group took our blind tests cereal-ously. (Couldn't resist!) First they nibbled on dry O's and then added milk. For a while, all you could hear was the sound of crunching. There were eyebrows raised pensively, requests for one more taste, and pleas for more time to finish. One thing was clear: These youngsters wanted their O's toasty and crunchy, even when submerged in milk.
All the brands are made with whole grains. Although this is typically not a sweet cereal (1 gram of sugar per 1 cup serving), sugar is the third item on the ingredient list in four of the five brands. Cascadian Farms Organic purely O's, the only cereal with no sugar, got seven pairs of thumbs down as the least favorite. Most of the cereals are similar in texture, but this one tastes like air. Trader Joe's brand, Joe's O's, was the favorite. Its first ingredient is whole grain oats, which you taste and which have an agreeable aroma. The brand Cheerios came in a close second.

Cascadian Farm Organic
purely O'sOrganic whole grain oat cereal
$4.69 for 9 ounces
This brand was often compared with an inert object: "Dry, it tasted like old paper, it tastes better with milk." "Smells like some kind of flower, sweet but appealing, but tastes like cardboard. Better after milk." One taster compared the smell to an attic. "Very pale compared to others. This egg-white looking cereal is smooth in your mouth and is awkward to chew. After adding milk the flavor is weak and gets soggy." But another thought it "maintained its crunchiness with the milk, but not the best taste." The final word: "Not sweet, tastes like cardboard. Not crunchy, horrible."

CheeriosToasted Whole Grain Oat Cereal
$3.19 for 8.9 ounces
A close second for best, three chose this as the favorite. Texture and smell were important factors for most: "Smells like toast, not very sweet, and more crunchy than the others." "Even crunchy with the milk. Also has a good after-taste." "Before milk, smells grainy, really has lots of flavor. With milk tastes good and has good texture." "Looks less hole-y and bumpy than the others. When chewing, the cereal is crunchy and tastes like freshly toasted bread." Another also said it "smelled like toast." One observer wrote this: "Different color than the others. Tastes good with milk. I think they might be Cheerios."

Food Club Original Toasted Oats
Toasted Whole Grain Oat Cereal
$2.50 for 15 ounces
We found this brand at Roche Bros. Not a lot of enthusiasm here but some liked the size: "O's bigger than other brands." As for the texture: "Feels kind of stale and tastes bland. Tastes the same with milk - like sawdust." "It almost looks as if it is made of Styrofoam. When I taste it, it is like Styrofoam with a very bland flavor." "The texture is crunchy and rough." Others liked the taste. "Has a nice sweetness to it, which makes it less bland. I smell honey." (There is no honey). "Not very sweet, not very sweet smelling, but very very crunchy!" "At first they are a bit stale, but as you progress the taste is OK." Another: "Blander with milk."

Stop & Shop Oats & O's
Toasted Whole Grain Oat Cereal
$2.69 for 15 ounces
Most of the kids commented on the texture before and after adding the milk: "Before milk, crunchy, just sort of doesn't have a taste. After milk, kind of soggy. Still no taste." "Has a sweet smell, but tastes bland. The texture is crunchy. With the milk it is still bland, but got soggy quickly." A "sweet smell" appeared on many comments. Another who chose it as a favorite wrote: "It looked bland at first. When I tasted it, it was crunchy and seemed to dissolve in my mouth. It reminds me of my own toasted O's that I eat at home." Several thought the milk helped. "Milk adds more flavor." Our youngest gestured with a thumbs up and his scribe (his mom) said he was all smiles after he finished it.

THE WINNER!
Trader Joe's Joe's O's
Toasted Whole Grain Oats
$2.29 for 15 ounces
Waxing eloquent, one wrote: "The golden brown cereal, smelling toasty and warm, tastes great and the texture is just right. The combination of milk and cereal is good but the flavor diminishes." "Before milk: smells nice and appealing and the color is golden and yellowish. Tastes very good and is quite easy to chew. After milk: Tastes even better. The milk complements the flavor of the O's." "Absolutely no smell, tastes really good and good with milk." "Very sweet and crunchy!" "Not too much of a smell. Is more oat-y, has small o's." "It has a very weak scent and looks pale. The taste is somewhat bolder and doesn't taste so much like paper." Two described it as having a bland taste: "When I have 8 in my mouth they taste like rice crackers. Very, very bland." And one was just not sure: "It tastes between good and bad."

© Copyright 2009 Globe Newspaper Company