Stop Taking Pictures of My Dinner!

New England Fish Chowda.

"Stop taking pictures of my dinner!" exclaimed the Sous Chef who is usually most convivial, however today was a bit under the weather and therefore testy. At about 1:00 pm EST he registered an official "request" for fish soup. Now, "fish soup" could mean anything; bouillabaisse, bisque, stew, cioppino, pho...... Bad attitudes aside, and being a native New Englander, I took pity on him and whipped up an authentic fish chowder, uh- I mean, Chowda. The Sous Chef's all-time favorite seafood joint "S.S. Lobster" in Fitchburg Massachusetts may be a whopping 201 miles away, but nonetheless, I embraced the spirit of things and cooked this up in a t-shirt that says "World Class Maine Lobster Captain. Eat Me if You Dare".

Tip of the Day

* I strongly recommend against adding elk sausage of any sort to turkey melts.

American Pie-dol

In the spirit of the good ol' US of A and the unwavering "patriotism" of FOX TV and all its glorious affiliate stations, I decided to make something uh, American.

Behold! Curry Chicken Pot Pie.

Well, I guess it's American minus the curry. That funny looking thing on the left is a Pillsbury Golden Layer Homestyle Biscuit ®. I KNOW I know; ever since the English Muffin post last week, things have taken a less-than-gourmet turn. I blame last night's season premiere of American Idol. Every year it brings out the bumpkin in me. I should be more embarrassed about this, but I'm not. The rest of the pie was built from scratch and pretty gosh darn delicious -- resplendent with a lovely golden curry and chock full of parsnips, peas, onions, carrots and celery! I don't want to be hasty in my judgment, but folks, this pot pie is going straight to Hollywood.

Riz-o-toe

I am the Sous Chef and this is Lobster, basil, avocado Risotto. Not the most sumptuous pic, I know. We learned tonight that lobster stock (which smells like a sweet blend of bad breath and smelly socks) can keep frozen for 6 months! That said, and with a frozen lobster tail just waiting for its debut, we made Risotto. Uhhh, bon appetit!?! Trust me, it was good.

You Be the Judge

Oh I'd say about 5 weeks ago we purchased this lovely link of chorizo from the terrific Bedford Cheese Shop. Rather than eat it right away, we opted to dangle it artfully from a hook in our kitchen wall ala Italian Salumeria. It looked pretty great up there. I had visions of making its final resting place a perfectly golden, saffron-laced paella. But then it was Christmas... and we made a prime rib roast... and then it was New Years Eve.... and we ordered Thai take out.... And well, we completely forgot about the chorizo. Until tonight. When we realized it was uh, dripping some sort of unidentified liquid. Maybe "sweating" is a better way to describe this particular phenomenon. As a general rule, anytime a food item starts to behave actively on its own (i.e. grow fuzz, implode, ooze, etc.) I tend to feel like that is a really good time to part ways. However, with something like chorizo that is already dried and cured... I'm not sure what to think. My sous-chef thinks it is "probably fine".... You be the judge.

His and Hers Midnight Snacks

What do normal people do after midnight on an average Saturday? Go to bars and chill out with their friends? (Well, technically we did that earlier) No! They make snacks!

Green Olive Tapenade (His)...

We decided to resurrect an amazing green olive tapenade recipe that singlehandedly carried us through the holiday season. My sous-chef took the reins on this one. Quite splendidly I might add. Made with seasoned spanish green olives, parsley, lemon juice, garlic, anchovies, capers, thyme and a touch of dijon mustard. Served best with toasted bread, crackers, or my favorite-- stuffed into cherry tomatoes!

Chocolate Souffle (Hers)...

A delicate cloud of bittersweet chocolate rose up and floated into her mouth, a spectacular velvet haze of endorphin-laced euphoria. A single raspberry tumbled off the spoon and onto the plate. She plucked it up as if she were four years old again and standing barefoot in her lavender cotton dress, collecting raspberries from the patch behind her grandparents house.....

Magnifique!

The Eternal Breakfast

Pictured: Last night's dinner-- Cilantro and Ginger Salmon Cake with Tomato and Garlic Salsa.

I ate three English Muffins today. Why, you might ask? The short answer is that I was trying to eat stuff is was already in the house to be economical. The more accurate answer is that I was painting and still in my pjs and well, lazy. So I ate three English Muffins (not all at once). I suppose there are worse things that I could have binged on (doritos, chocolate covered pretzels, marshmallow peeps, etc.). As I was chewing the last toasted, golden, buttery goodness of my third and final EM of the day it made me realize how fantastic EM's are and it got me thinking... What would I eat if I knew it was the last meal I'd eat for a while (I'm not going to say my last meal ever because well, I don't want to be morbid-- this is a blog about quiche after all. I generally want to keep things light and fluffy). However, there was even a book that came out recently that interviewed a bevy of world-renowned chefs and asked them what they would choose for their "last meal on earth"-- Krispy Kreme donuts, cheeseburgers and oysters were at the top of the list... So I started mentally assembling my final, perfect meal. I came up with the winning trifecta: an English Muffin drenched in butter, accompanied by 2 over-medium eggs and a sausage patty. and I'm not talking about hand-formed all natural sausage either. I want the frozen, brown coaster-sized, factory-pressed disc of "sausage". Call it a guilty pleasure. Call me what you will. I do hail from a postage-stamp sized town in the Diner mecca of central Massachusetts so maybe that is from whence this all stems. I make no apologies.

However, in the spirit of the culinary arts, I will provide you with a recipe for homemade english muffins. If you try them out let me know! I will be waiting by the toaster with my trusty orange and white package of 6, neatly stacked. I can resist neither nooks nor crannies.

English Muffins Recipe courtesy Alton Brown Show: Good Eats Episode: The Muffin Man

1/2 cup non-fat powdered milk 1 tablespoon sugar 1 teaspoon salt 1 tablespoon shortening 1 cup hot water 1 envelope dry yeast 1/8 teaspoon sugar 1/3 cup warm water 2 cups all-purpose flour, sifted Non-stick vegetable spray Special equipment: electric griddle, 3-inch metal rings, see Cook's Note*In a bowl combine the powdered milk, 1 tablespoon of sugar, 1/2 teaspoon of salt, shortening, and hot water, stir until the sugar and salt are dissolved. Let cool. In a separate bowl combine the yeast and 1/8 teaspoon of sugar in 1/3 cup of warm water and rest until yeast has dissolved. Add this to the dry milk mixture. Add the sifted flour and beat thoroughly with wooden spoon. Cover the bowl and let it rest in a warm spot for 30 minutes. Preheat the griddle to 300 degrees F. Add the remaining 1/2 teaspoon of salt to mixture and beat thoroughly. Place metal rings onto the griddle and coat lightly with vegetable spray. Using #20 ice cream scoop, place 2 scoops into each ring and cover with a pot lid or cookie sheet and cook for 5 to 6 minutes. Remove the lid and flip rings using tongs. Cover with the lid and cook for another 5 to 6 minutes or until golden brown. Place on a cooling rack, remove rings and cool. Split with fork and serve. *Cook's Note: Small tuna cans with tops and bottoms removed work well for metal rings.

This is me gearing up for the first quiche of 2008

Again, not a quiche. But at least not an octopus! I figured if I baked something...anything... I would at least be on the right road to quichedom. Incidentally, the road to quichedom leads to next Saturday. I am going to be catering a party with my friend next weekend down in Maryland and we plan to make enough quiche to serve about fifty people. I don't want to burn out too soon, so I'm pacing myself. There is also a possibility that I have to make fifty servings of gluten-free quiche, which threatens to implode the delicate filling-to-crust relationship my sous-chef and I have so painstakingly researched, tested and established. More about that later....

Since I can't seem to bake anything totally sweet, these are my semi-savory cracked pepper corn muffins. I sprinkled a few red pepper flakes on top before they went in the oven. They accompanied an herby and earthy casserole of morel mushrooms, garlic, kale, and homemade gnocchi. It tasted great but looked like sludge, so it didn't make it to the wall of fame. We deemed it hobbit gruel because if I had to guess, that'd be what folks are dishing up in the shire.

This is Not a Quiche Pt. 3

The finished product was delicious. Served hot with fresh bread and all the rest of that red wine! My sous-chef gave it two thumbs up.

This is Not a Quiche Pt. 2

Shallots, onions, baby octopus....simmering away...

This is Not a Quiche

Tonight, I decided to make something special. Braised baby octopus in spicy red wine sauce.....
(a big thanks to my vegetarian friend sarah who accompanied me on my quest to find this... for those of you that are curious, Agata and Valentina on E. 79th is usually well stocked.)

Knowing when to say, "Enough is Enough"

I have to be honest with you; it is possible to OD on quiche. It isn't pretty and it doesn't happen very often, but it does happen. And if it does, you need to brace yourself and be prepared for the aftermath. By December 2007 we had made about 20 quiches in various sizes and had whisked our weight in extra large eggs and heavy cream. Fighting back a wave of nausea tempered by the faintest twinge of resignation, my sous-chef and I declared a temporary hold on all egg-related recipes. Our fridge had been packed to the brim with egg cartons and the mere thought of eggs now turned our stomachs. We couldn't even say the word egg. It was a sad time. The only reasonable thing to do was focus our energies elsewhere. Which we did in earnest for the duration of the year.

I haven't made a quiche since 2007, and it being 2008... I think it's finally time.

West Coast Quiche!

It's official folks. The quiche craze has gone bi-coastal. Check out my friend Erik's red pepper, crimini mushroom, green onion & garlic quiche* sporting an uber-californian whole wheat crust!

*Note: After a considerable debate about the finer points of the correct dairy/egg ratio per quiche we did NOT reach a consensus. Erik and his sous-chef are decidedly more health conscious than we are here in Brooklyn. (In our school of thought, it isn't possible to reach quiche-nirvana without making a substantial offering to the heavy cream goddess) So... while his quiche may not serve up a coronary, it definitely gets bonus points for being heart smart.

Quiche Challenge #1

Quiche pictured: Roasted red pepper, fennel and sausage with a savory rosemary crust.

My sous-chef went to his day job and revealed to coworkers what we'd been up to in the kitchen. I am not sure what he said exactly, but it prompted a bit of a dare. "If you can make such an amazing quiche; prove it." They told him to bring four perfect specimens into lunch on Monday for sampling and a heavy critique session. They would pay us for the ingredients and if they liked the finished product, they'd order more.

When he got home that night and told me about the challenge with that familiar glint in his eye, I said,"fine, bring it on. This is market research."

By this point, I was officially unemployed a.k.a. liberated and had all the time in the world to contemplate the finer points of quiche making. We were up to the test.

I created a menu:

Asparagus, Pancetta & Gruyere

Roasted Red Pepper, Fennel & Sausage

Smoked Trout, Spinach & Leek

Smoked Gouda, Bacon & Cherry Tomato

Caramelized Onion, Gorgonzola & Mushroom

Smoked Salmon & Sweet Pea
w/ Savory Dill Crust

Goat Cheese, Roasted Garlic & Thyme

It took all of Sunday afternoon, and a trip to the baking store on W. 26th to get pans, pie boxes etc, but by Monday morning we had four perfect quiches boxed up and ready to go.

We had thirteen willing guinea pigs. I sat at home nervously awaiting the outcome of our first taste test. I had sent them what I thought to be perfectly flaky, herb-infused crusts with the right consistency of egg/cream/cheese and the exact balance of crust to ingredients. We wanted every mouthful to have the right ratios of everything in it. Too often quiche is too eggy, crust-heavy or just plain bland. We avoided this by treating every ingredient individually. We minced, diced, sauteed, pureed and blended everything separately. For our smoked salmon quiche I shelled a bowl full of fresh spring peas and added finely chopped dill to the mix for the freshest taste possible. We layered the ingredients to make sure every slice would be divine.

I got the phone call. The verdict was in and their response was overwhelming.

Best quiche ever.

Time to Get Serious

We had the magic ingredients -- all we needed was an identity. At that time, I was still working for Satan, but had given my two-week notice and found myself day dreaming my final hours away, lost in quiche paradise. I started to act like one of those crazy people that collect shot glasses from airports, or talk incessantly about their labradoodle's psoriasis condition... if anyone uttered one word to me, I found a way to instantly navigate the conversation to the subject of quiche.

On my last day of the job I filled my briefcase with drawing paper and colored pencils and decided to create this logo for our imaginary quiche business. I showed it to the temp who they had brought in to observe me and absorb by osmosis everything I knew about my job, but lucky for her, all she got to watch me do was watch me sketch pictures of quiche. I asked her what she thought about my burgeoning quiche business. She laughed and said, "a revival!"

A revival indeed. Fondue freaks, watch out! The time is ripe for quiche to make a comeback!

Eat Your Heart Out Bobby Flay

Some people just don't give it a rest until they grind their competition into a bloody pulp. The thirst to WIN is overpowering....

After having experienced QUICHE-NIRVANA, we weren't sure what to do with ourselves. We awoke the next morning with a dilemma. Should we ignore the fireworks that exploded in our palates the night before, blush and move on with our lives like a one-night stand or do we brazenly declare our triumph to our friends and family and carve another culinary notch in our already too-tight belts. We were sitting on the best thing to happen to quiche since medieval times when a horde of wild French chefs wielding cleavers and cast iron pots clobbered the German peoples of Lothringen and declared it Lorraine (actual historic details may be fuzzy).

We slunk off to the local coffee shop to obtain caffeine and perhaps a clearer perspective on our plight. However, staring right back at us, through the refrigerated case, as if to MOCK our delicate situation was a ham and asparagus quiche, selling for $3.50 a slice.

"Let's get one," said my sous-chef, his eyes starting to get glassy, brimming with competitive lust. "Let's just see how ours stacks up to the local competition". So we ordered a slice and waited until we got to the car to sample it. We knew with the very first bite. The crust was soggy in places, the egg was too dense and the ham and asparagus only made an appearance every third bite or so. Neither of us wanted to be the first to say what was on our minds... that our quiche would blow the competition out of the water.

I grabbed my notebook and we sped off. We were already rattling off potential ingredients.....crispy pancetta, gorgonzola, spring peas, smoked salmon, roasted red peppers, caramelized onions.... We would infuse our crusts with fresh herbs... rosemary! thyme! dill!

I was mentally preparing myself for a quiche throwdown.

All we needed was a business plan...

A Quiche is Born

We started taking quiche more seriously last November. I attribute the recent quiche boom to a primal loathing of my day job (which I have since abandoned), an obsession with competitive cooking shows and what has since turned into an endless quest for the perfect combination of quiche ingredients...

It all started with a Smoked Trout, Spinach and Leek quiche. After having grown weary of our usual fare (my sous-chef has a particular flair for risotto and homemade stocks, but after the umpteenth risotto dish of the season, I declared a moratorium on risotto), we decided to venture into the unknown.

I am an avid home-cook. I am not a baker. I come from a family of better-than-average cooks, and one or two notable bakers, but historically, baking did to my culinary abilities what chemistry class did to my grade point average in high school. All those measurements and the need for precision scared me away. To me cooking is about passion! and flavor! and tasting things... a little of this, a little of that, etc. Baking had always seemed sort of a square pastime. Besides, I have good friends that are amazing bakers (check out my very talented friend Sarah's blog and all her nifty baking: www.verylocalfood.blogspot.com ) and so I felt little need to carve a baking niche for myself.

But there we were, bored, and there was all this smoked trout in the fridge just begging to be turned into something delicious, so we gave it a go. I called my grandmother and got her simple pie crust recipe (baking turned out to be sort of fun...) and rustled up some heavy cream, eggs and cheese and voilà! Smoked Trout, Spinach and Leek.

It was the BEST quiche we had ever tasted. Quite possibly the best quiche anyone had ever tasted....in the history of Brooklyn and maybe the Universe.