#5 full English breakfast

Hambone and Spice recently took Alpha and Beta to England. Who would have guessed that full English breakfasts would have been one of their favorite things from the trip? 

It seemed really uncivilized to bring my camera to the table first thing in the morning, but now I regret that I don’t have a picture of a full English breakfast. Thank goodness for the internets where I borrowed a photo from www.spinneybedandbreakfast.co.uk.

Where to start with the full English breakfast? I have really fond memories, from 20 years ago, of getting a hot breakfast whenever I stayed in a bed and breakfast. As I made hotel reservations for this trip, I got a little excited by the promise of a cereal “starter” (cornflakes or “bits and pieces,” muesli with dates and nuts), followed by runny eggs, thick bacon rashers (recognizable to Americans as ham), fat English sausages, baked beans, and broiled tomatoes and mushrooms. Toast and preserves? Yes, please.

Even if taking Lipitor, people my age should not eat a full English breakfast every morning, for obvious reasons. But eggs and bacon are so delicious, and I only had five mornings to take advantage of consuming them. The boys loved their full English, especially since they were allowed to drink milk and sugar–laden “wake up” tea, which is what our family calls English breakfast tea. To their credit, a full breakfast tided us over well past the lunch hour, but sometimes they also made us feel like we needed a nap at 10 a.m.

#4: Ngon Bistro

St. Paul has no shortage of Vietnamese restaurants lining University Avenue. Many of these have little to recommend themselves, aside from tasty, cheap food. Ngon Bistro stands out from the rest. By appearances, the space is charming and inviting, with work by local artists staged above sunny gold wainscoting. The menu is a clever (and fitting) French-Vietnamese fusion, such as sweet potato shrimp croquettes, sugar cane shrimp, croque madame (with pork belly). You’ll also find the best versions of traditional Vietnamese dishes. For instance, pho and hu tieu both feature housemade broths that are so rich and earthy and redolent of star anise. Whenever I feel run down or get the aches and pains that precede a cold or the flu, I want Ngon’s soup. They’re soul-warming, and, I believe, instantly healing.

My very favorite menu item is the pork loin sandwich. This is not your $3 bahn mi, either. Baguette-style rolls are slathered with liver pate then piled high with local duroc pork, which has been shellacked with Vietnamese “BBQ” sauce, and topped with vinegary jalapenos, carrots, and daikon. A tangle of skinny-cut sweet potato fries with  sriracha-laced mayo are equally addictive. You’re given a generous portion of sweet potato fries, and I tend to eat every single one.

There’s a lot of good farm-to-table stuff going on at Ngon. Even the beers are from local brewers—Summit, Brau Brothers, Surly, Lake Superior, Flat Earth, and Lift Bridge, to name a few really good beer makers.

Ngon Bistro, 799 University Avenue, St. Paul, MN 651-222-3301

H&S 100: #3 Brach's Easter Candy

Some of my favorite candy is available only at Easter, and I may even venture to say that Brach's Pastel Fiesta malted milk eggs is my favorite candy of all time. No other malted milk eggs compare. The ratio of crunchy shell to chocolate layer to malted milk interior is perfection. Surprisingly, this Brach's candy is difficult to find locally. Our primary grocery store, Lund's, carries it but has been known to run out of stock long before Easter. Also, I find that with every passing year, there are fewer and fewer candy pieces in each bag. Nonetheless, the speckled candy shells and pastel colors are emblematic of time and place. My boys love them, too.

Brach's Jelly Bird Eggs (read, jelly beans) run a close second. My mother always included these jelly beans in our Easter baskets as well as in the plastic eggs she hid around the yard. Plus, she often makes a white cake with lemon curd filling, frosted with seven-minute frosting, dusted with coconut, and crowned with a nest of jelly bird eggs. When jelly bird eggs are stale, the gel center is more stiff and tacky, and this is what I like best about these jelly beans. Recently I bought a bag of "fresh" beans, and the interior was so sticky and springy—all wrong. Thank goodness these jelly beans are available year round.

H&S 100: #2 Clancey's Meat and Fish

Clancey's Meat and Fish

4307 Upton Avenue South

Minneapolis, MN 55410-1556

(612) 926-0222

I have proclaimed my Clancey's love on numerous occasions. If you live in the Twin Cities but haven't visited this Linden Hills meat and fish market, go. Go now. Go for the unique housemade sausages (lamb-pine nut-dried blueberry or beef-[Surly] Bender [beer]-cherries-blue [cheese]) and for the dry-aged steaks. But don't overlook all the other lovelies—the sunchoke tapenade or the duck rillettes or the duck jerky. These foodstuffs are great when you're entertaining or for Friday date-nights-at-home. Four petite filets cost the same as one served at any local steakhouse, which means you can splurge on an extra-nice Cab or rioja. You'll also find a freezer case laden with items such as stock, duck confit, and pork leaf lard.

(tiny merguez sausages and chickpeas)

We're Clancey's fans because the fare is of an impeccably high quality, made with love. The owners are passionate about what they do, and they're interested in how you're going to prepare your purchases. I always have an inspiring conversation about food while I'm in the cozy shop. Places like Clancey's are true measures of civility.


As I was looking up Clancey's address, I noticed a new web link...yay! The site is still under construction, but once it's functional, I have no doubt it will be entertaining. 

H&S 100: #1 Bittman

Taking the lead from our friend Apur, we refer to Mark Bittman’s behemoth How to Cook Everything as Bittman*. When we’re making the Saturday morning pancakes with the boys, we’ll say to one of them, “Get Bittman.” The cookbook has become indispensable for recipes and techniques. When I bought Bittman, we already had Lukin’s and Rosso’s The New Basics Cookbook, as well as Julia Child’s The Way to Cook, and thank goodness we did because I learned a lot from them. Ultimately I found The New Basics kind of overdone and, though I love Julia, The Way to Cook is kind of out of step with the way we eat.

Bittman’s great if you’ve got a gorgeous cut of meat, say a New York strip, or even a tough cut of meat, say a skirt steak, and you want to know how to broil or grill or pan-saute. You look up steak and find straightforward methods that are completely do-able, regardless of your kitchen skills. You may even find pan sauces, as well as references to recipes that go well with steak. Even if you don’t think you need a recipe for something as obvious as, say, deviled eggs, you can use Bittman as a guideline. Maybe you need a reminder of how long to boil an egg. He also give good recipe tweaks. How about adding herbs to your egg-mayo-mustard mixture?

I love Bittman's voice. Here's his note on Basic Pancakes:

Americans must have been sadly alienated from the kitchen for pancake mixes to ever have gained a foothold in the market, for these are ridiculously easy to make.

Our copy's binding is broken. It opens right to breakfast foods. You’d think we’d have that pancake recipe memorized by now.

*We also really like Bittman’s Minimalist column in the New York Times, as well as the themed 100 lists that occasionally run as larger features in the Wednesday food section.

Saveur 100

One of my favorite food magazine issues is Saveur’s January issue, which features their annual 100. The 100 is a staff-generated list of favorite food-related items, typically including kitchen gadgets and equipment, recipes, prepared food items, cookbooks, personalities, websites, and restaurants. Basically, almost anything food related. From this list, I get an ego boost from things I’ve already discovered, but I also add to the lengthy list of must-eats. This year’s 100 was, for the first time, culled from reader recommendations, which I enjoyed for the wonderful personal stories. Here are some of my favorites items:

#3 Pacifikool Hawaiian Ginger Syrup

I think this ginger syrup would be a great stand-in for ginger ale in a Dark and Stormy. Fortunately friends are traveling to Hawaii in March…

#11 tastespotting.com

A community-driven visual potluck. I will lose productivity but gain inspiration from time spent on this website.

#35 eating at New Orleans Jazz Fest

I agree, best festival food anywhere. Some folks even strategize their eating ahead of the festival, based on which the stages where they’ll be listening to music. I’ve eaten the pheasant, quail and andouille gumbo, but next time I’ll also be sure to try the deep-fried boudin balls.

#36 Den Gyldene Freden, Stockholm

In 2001, Hambone’s brother, who lives in Stockholm, took us to this restaurant. We had a table in the cellar, where candlelight played off the creamy stucco walls. I don’t remember what we ate, but rest assured in was an exquisite dish of traditional Swedish food. The restaurant has been open since 1722.

#55 Rittenhouse Rye

Goes on my to-try list

#59 kruk

More elegant than a molcahete, this traditional Thai mortar and pestle goes on my kitchen tools to buy list

#71 Hot Doug’s Chicago

This haute hot dog joint has been on my radar for a long time. I stood in solidarity as they received the first citation of Chicago’s since-rescinded foie gras ban. Yes, a hot dog featuring foie…I live to try one.

#87 sumac

Hambone turned me on to this super-tangy Middle Eastern spice, which ate on rice—a super cheap meal at a long-gone Lebanese restaurant. We now use season house-made pita chips with sumac and sea salt with sea salt. I’m making a note to use the spice more often—on grilled meats, on roasted vegetables, in stews, and in meatballs.

#91 Wisconsin

Oh yes, Minnesota does great sausages and smoked fish, too. I love Death’s Door gin and appreciate the staunch German fare. But, I’m really interest in the “melty bars” and the wintergreen patties from Oaks Candy, Oshkosh. Wisconsin can keep the squeaky cheese curds, though.

#100 Sweetwater’s Donut Mill Doughnuts

I hope I have the occasion to travel to Kalamazoo, MI, one day…

In the spirit of list-making and of celebrating our favorite things, I am inaugurating the H&S 100. Throughout the year, I will be featuring beloved kitchen equipment, restaurants, food stuffs, recipes, cookbooks, ideas, websites, and more. Stay tuned…I think I already have some catching up to do!

Greek-Style Pasta

One of my very most favorite dishes in the whole wide world is only available on a buffet. Usually I’m loathe to eat buffet-style lunches because they can be the greasiest, nastiest foodstuffs, plus there’s the whole Petri dish nature of it that I try not to think about. But the yuckiest thing about buffets is the manner in which one eats—heap a plate high, snarf it down, and reload. A few lunch buffets in St. Paul have changed my mind, though, and I feel the need to mention them.

If you’ve never eaten at Christo’s, the lunch buffet is a fantastic way to sample their Greek menu. The restaurant is located in Lowertown, in the magnificent Union Depot (soon to be a light rail hub). The buffet features a couple soups (an outstanding butternut squash soup makes frequent appearances), a few hot entrees, vegetables (buttered carrots are a favorite), piles of warm pita, spit-roasted lamb sliced for make-your-own gyros, lettuce and fixings for Greek salad, and more. One of the hot entrees—braised beef in tomato sauce—never fails to comfort. The beef is tender and rich, the tomato sauce is spiked with cinnamon, and it’s the most unexpectedly delicious thing.

On many occasions, I have tried to order this dish for take out, but am always told that it’s not on the menu. So sometimes I would order the buffet and request a take-out container and would be obliged with strange glances. Then I would march my take-out across the street to my office and eat at my desk. I’ve never tried to re-create the dish at home. It’s that special thing I hope is on the buffet when I go, and I always thought the thrill would be ruined if I cracked the code. Silly, I know.
Now that I no longer work across the street from Christo’s and now that 4^th Street is ripped up with light rail construction, I’d like to make the dish at home. Imagine my excitement when I ran across a pasta recipe in Bon Appetit that comes remarkably close. The recipe features ground lamb instead of braised beef, which is a welcomed time-saver, as well as a cinnamon-driven tomato sauce. A liberal sprinkle of salty feta cheese is a great foil to the sauce’s spiciness. But, the best element, in my opinion, is the addition of parsnips. I love the earthiness of this underrated root veg and feel like this pasta is a complete meal. We'll add this to our regular pasta rotation.

My apologies: no photo. We dove right into this meal, without setting up a shot. I don't even have "stock" photography of pasta with red sauce. Instead, I present saucy younger son, Winston, plugged in with his best Combat Rock.

Greek-Style Penne with Lamb, Parsnips, Tomatoes, and Cinnamon

adapted from Bon Appetit magazine (November 2009)

6 servings

2 tablespoons olive oil

1 onion, halved through root end, cut lengthwise into 1/2-inch-thick slices (about 2 cups)

12 ounces medium parsnips (about 4), peeled, cut on slight diagonal into 1/4-inch-thick slices

4 garlic cloves, minced

1 pound ground lamb

1-1/4 teaspoons ground cinnamon

2 14-1/2 ounce cans diced tomatoes in juice

1 cup tomato puree

12 ounces penne

1/2 cup chopped fresh parsley

Crumbled feta cheese

Heat oil in large nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. Add onion and parsnips and sauté until slightly softened and deep golden brown around the edges, about 9 minutes. Add garlic; stir 1 minute. Add lamb and sauté until no longer pink, breaking up with back of spoon, about 2 minutes. Stir in cinnamon. Sprinkle with salt and pepper. Add tomatoes with juice and tomato puree, bring to boil. Reduce heat, cover, and simmer until parsnips are tender, about 12 minutes. Season with salt and pepper.

Meanwhile, cook pasta in large pot of boiling salted water until just tender but still firm to bit, stirring occasionally. Drain, then return pasta to pot. Add lamb-tomato mixture and parsley. Transfer to plates and sprinkle with feta.

best eats of 2009

Happy New Year! Hambone and Spice continued to eat well in 2009. We enjoyed many fantastic and memorable meals in restaurants, in our friends’ homes, and in our own home. Food was an important balm during a transition year, in which I became a full-time student. Food also helped to cement friendships and fueled many delicious conversations.

Here are some highlights from our year in food and drink:

drink

Cocktails continue to quench our thirst. The side car kept its place at our table, as did Rick Bayless’ margarita. Perhaps it wasn’t much of a coincidence that fresh citrus features prominently in both cocktails. Cutting a lemon or lime in half and giving a squeeze takes no more time than opening a bottle of mixer, but makes a big difference to quality and flavor. We also added Pimm’s Cup to our repertoire, cutting the liquor with Gosling’s Dark ginger beer for a crisp, slightly herbal refreshment. This summer, I invested in a bottle of St. Germain’s elderflower liqueur but have yet to fully realize it’s potential, though I’m sure I’ll find some use in Artisanal Cocktail, a gift from Friend Tracy. One of my favorite cocktails in 2009 was the Mariposa Aviation, a recipe taken from Artisanal Cocktail. It’s simply gin, maraschino liqueur (we like Luxardo), and fresh-squeezed lemon juice. My other favorite cocktail was the apple martini—shaken by the brothers who run Phillips—that I sampled at the Mill City Farmers Market. I despise the name but have yet to come up an appropriate moniker for this concoction of apple cider, [Prairie Organic] vodka, simple syrup, and a cinnamon stick. A few local restaurants, particularly Lucia’s, are serving these “martinis” on rocks, which makes for a tasty fall/winter cocktail.

favorite cooking techniques: paillards and pan sauces

In the last quarter of 2009, Spice had a night class two nights a week so Hambone was required to do more of the cooking. He nailed paillards, primarily using chicken. By flattening the breasts, the meat cooks quickly and leaves some browned bits in the pan that can be loosened with an agent, such as wine or stock or (even) water. With the addition of minced shallots or onion, herbs, mustard, and cream, you’ve got an instant pan sauce that transforms chicken into something a little more luscious. Plus, chicken breasts and pan sauce are amazing kid pleasers.

another soup session with Caryl

In 2008 my friend Caryl and I made caldo verde, a Portuguese kale and sausage soup, from a recipe in The Soup Peddler’s Slow and Difficult Soups. The soup was hearty and nourishing and easy. The cooking session was a blast so we decided to pick another soup from that cookbook and have another cooking session. This time we made shorbat rumman, which seemed appropriate for many reasons: it’s delicious, easy, and slightly exotic. Here’s what the soup peddler, David Ansel, says about this soup: 

Neither slow nor difficult, this delightful Iraqi yellow split pea soup is derived from a recipe on the world’s greatest soup website, soupsong.com Pomegranate and mint are the surprises that lie in store for your guests at this soup session. Dazzle even your most Republican friends with this soup, and when they ask, “What’s that taste?” just say casually, “Oh, that’s pomegranate syrup. We like to keep some around the house just in case we’re having Iraqi food for dinner, don’t you?”

The pomegranante and mint were love surprises, but my favorite part was the buckets of greens—one pound of spinach and two bunches each parsley and cilantro. The soup was bright and, undoubtedly, healthy. I’m looking forward to our next soup session!

favorite food stores

France 44’s cheese counter—St. Paul Cheese Shop—opened a St. Paul location. This news came with mixed blessings. It means there is no need for me to open the cheese store of my dreams, but it also means that awesome cheeses—stored at proper temperatures and cut to order—are available on my beat. In addition to cheese, the store offers some fancy foods, such as Theo Chocolates and Ames honey, and some of the best $8 sandwiches around. My favorite is the prosciutto and provolone with caramelized onions. I’m determined to hack their recipe for the dried fruit compote that they serve on chevre. Further down Grand Avenue, Golden Fig still rocks for their house-brand spice, herb, salt, and sugar concoctions, as well as such goodies jams from Heath’s Glen Kitchens (damson plum chutney and the heirloom tomato jam are two favorites) and Barsy’s Almonds (“naughties” with sugar, cinnamon, cocoa, and cayenne, and “smokies” with sugar, spice, and smoked salt).

Best things eaten this year, restaurant category

~pho and the pork loin sandwich at Ngon (and sweet potato fries with sriracha aioli)—two years running

~Khyber Pass’ lunch buffet, especially the hummus and korma e murgh—two years running

~charred ahi tuna and shishito pepper, lemon, coriander, lime salt at Porter and Frye

~seared foie gras with hazelnuts, frisee, vegetables a la grecque, and curry emulsion at Meritage

~chocolate cake with ginger-candied apricots and cream at Grand Café

~muhammara at Sanaa’s in Sioux Falls

~tri-fry tower: hand-cut russet fries, maple-bacon sweet potato fries and parmesan waffle fries with smoked tomato ketchup, béarnaise, and blue-cheese dip at Burger Jones

~“continental” breakfast (skinka and farmer’s cheese on rusk) at the Columbus Hotell in Stockholm

~red chile, chorizo, and fried egg enchilada at Barrio

 Favorite things eaten at home/friends’ homes

~Will and Helena’s tossed green salad with tomato and mango

~Bill’s smoked ribs

~fig-olive tapenade from David Lebovitz's memoir, The Sweet Life in Paris

~Steve’s smoked brisket

~Colin’s pork loin with roasted shallots and fresh figs

Unforgettable drink

~2006 Sarah Powell pinot noir

~2001 Stag’s Leap

~chilled aquavit in Stockholm

~Visby medeltidsol from Gotlands Bryggeri

~salted caramel milkshake at Burger Jones

Restaurants

The economic downturn at the end of 2008 precipitated many restaurant closings, as well as chef turnovers. It goes somewhat without saying that not many new restaurants opened that we could put our radar, until recently, that is (more on those later). Not immune to the economic downturn, we took fewer meals in restaurants. When we did treat ourselves, we would head to favorites, such as Meritage, 112 Eatery, and Alma. Food at each of these joints remained consistent and exciting, rarely disappointing. 

summer vacation '09: Sweden

Hambone and Spice are just back from a ten-day trip to Sweden. With Alpha and Beta in tow, we flew to Stockholm to visit Hambone’s brother Will and his little family. For years, Will has been begging us to come to Sweden for Medeltidsveckan, Visby's Middle Ages week. Even though we’d decided to stay close to home this summer and explore our nation’s splendors, we caved to Will’s wishes. Besides, Alpha and Beta love our annual excursion to the Renaissance Festival. They could easily imagine how incredible it would be to fully immerse themselves in medieval Sweden.

Once we had decided upon our destination, it wasn't long before the vacation turned, happily, into a larger family affair. Hambone's brother Ben and his wife and their little family, as well as Grandma Dorothy and her husband, David, plus a family friend and his traveling companion descended upon Stockholm with us. We were 16 people! Remarkably, Will found a house in Visby that slept 18, which became our home base for the week we were there.

This the 13th century house, built over the street, where we stayed in Visby. Display windows on the street level made us think the house once served both residential and commercial interests. The best way to describe this home is a warren of rooms over multiple levels. Hambone and I had a couple rooms in the attic. We woke when the sun rose, at 4 a.m., to a scene not unlike this (though many mornings a cruise ship or ferry would sit in the middle of the frame):


We went to Sweden for family, for long daylight hours, to be on the water. We did not go for the food, which isn't to say that the food wasn't good. Gastronomy wasn't the priority. When we travel in a large group, where nearly half of the members constitute the Under 10 Set, the adults have found it easiest to take turns making meals in our rental house. That way, we can feed the children before they achieve meltdown. The food we eat is healthier so we feel better throughout our trip. And, by shopping in the local markets and grocery stores, we can still sample regional foodstuffs. Since John's brother lives in Sweden and has a Swedish wife, we had insider guidance to "must eat" traditional Swedish fare. As a result, endless varieties of sill (herring), dry sausages (boar, elk, and reindeer), and Gotland cheese (many of which were similar to gouda or havarti, and very, very good) were well represented on the dinner table.

Even if we aren't cooking for ourselves when we travel, I love to "sight-see" in grocery stores. I'm fascinated by how fresh food is displayed, especially in food halls (time didn't permit visiting Stockholm's famous food halls and indoor markets, pooh). But I also marvel at food packaging, especially for treats...sweets and chips. One of the things I noticed at the large grocery store in Visby was that little of the produce had been grown in Sweden. Most produce came from the Mediterranean—Spain, Cyprus, Italy. There was a wide variety of fruits and vegetables, including melons and nectarines. The produce section had a remarkably familiar. I'm certainly not complaining about having many options when it came to fixing a meal, but at this time of year—the peak of the growing season—I am accustomed to shopping at the farmers market or having local produce (corn, tomatoes, green beans, zucchini) at our grocery stores, and I would have loved to have tapped into the fruits and vegetables grown in Sweden.


Sheep is the major livestock on Gotland, and lamb is a must-eat when you're in Visby, especially when roasted over live coals at a medieval banquet. Truly, the best lamb I've eaten. If you flirted with the guy serving lamb, you got the choice bits—slices of leg, topped by an amazing sauce—otherwise, you got delicious bits that engulfed by connective parts. We also partook of roasted lamb, served with a rich dark gravy and a lovely potato casserole, at a restaurant on Visby's main square (stora torget).


All over Sweden, crayfish parties are a traditional August celebration, marking the end of summer. One evening, Will and Helena treated us to a mess of mudbugs, and, since one couldn't possibly eat enough crayfish to fill oneself, other food was served—an exceptional tomato and mango salad, crusty bread, and a few chunks of cheese, one of which was studded with cumin seeds. The crayfish are sold frozen in large boxes or bags, which you cook at home in a vessel of boiling water that has been infused with spices. Right next to the freezer in the grocery store, paper products, essential to a crayfish party, are displayed: lanterns, plates, napkins, and cups, each with a crayfish motif, but also songbooks. Drinking songs kick off icy aquavit shots and are an important part of the meal! Since crayfish parties traditionally take place outside, we headed out to the garden and pushed cafe tables together to form a long banquet table.

Breakfast of champions. This was the complimentary breakfast at the Columbus Hotell, where we stayed for a few nights in Stockholm. Witness a spread of cold cuts, including skinka (ham) and farmer's cheese slices, but also liver pate, anchovy paste, sweet pickles, cucumbers, and tomatoes, which are meant to be assembled on bread (wasa, knackerbrod, hearty wheat rolls, rusk crackers), for open-face sandwiches. The spread also included yogurt (more sour than sweet), granola, other dry cereals, sweet rolls, and fruit, as well as hard- and soft-boiled eggs. My preference, first thing in the morning, is for something sweet, but when in northern Europe.... I loved the open-face sandwiches for breakfast and have adopted this practice now that I'm home.

Scene from the market: These candied apples with a crisp, sweet shell were one of many treats the Alpha and Beta tried at the medieval market. The boy on the left was swirling apples on a stick through hot syrup. Some of the apples were then rolled in crushed almonds or rolled oats. When the boy on the right wasn't collecting money, he swatted wasps. By comparison to the Minnesota RenFest, the medieval market had fewer food stalls, which were more selective and higher in quality. Other foodstuffs at the market included toffied almonds (exceptional), burgers (chicken, beef, lamb), roasted lamb, smoked turkey legs, mead, and fudge (licorice was unique, vanilla was solid, but those made with smoky, peaty scotches were amazing!).

And now for dessert—Swedes love their ice cream. Thank goodness. You can find ice cream treats in many shops and stands in Visby, most of which are similar to Good Humor or Kemps. Then, there's Visby Glass. Near the East Port ferry station, Visby Glass has 100 flavors in the cooler at any one time. Overwhelming, yes. Some of these flavors are from Swedish ice cream giant, Sia, but others are made on site. You've got fruit, an array of chocolate flavors, nut, licorice (a category unto itself), and spices, as well as many combinations of the above. Given my devotion to ice cream, naturally we took many long walks to Visby Glass. I had an opportunity to try saffron (only so I could confirm that I don't like saffron as a primary ingredient in anything), mint chocolate chip (with the largest imaginable chocolate chunks), violet (beautiful color, perfumey taste), and salted licorice (pictured above, intensely tar-black). The latter was a taste sensation that I'm still thinking about...salty, cold, creamy...and licorice-y.

cold-weather cooking revival (in july)

As I cast about the blogosphere, I can’t help but notice that, from coast to coast, 2009 weather has been unruly. It’s mid-July and still blazing hot in southern California and the desert Southwest. But the rest of the country is beginning to resemble Seattle, with overcast skies, midday drizzles, and lower than usual temperatures. The Upper Midwest is no exception. For a few days last week the high temps here in St. Paul hovered at 63 degrees, about twenty degrees below average. I’m not complaining. I like it cool, which is not to be confused with cold! I like to wear sleeves or long pants. I like to sleep under blankets. And, when it comes to cooking, I like to fire up the oven with impunity.

Since all those no-cook meals and whole-grain or pasta salad recipes that I had filed for hot-weather cooking are languishing, I thought I’d dip into the rib-sticking fare I associate firmly with winter. I preheated the oven to 375 degrees F and looked up a recipe for a favorite potato dish that we usually eat at Christmas, Jansson’s Temptation (Jansson’s frestelse).

I was first introduced to “the Jansson’s” in the late 90s. My brother-in-law, Will and his girlfriend, Helena, who is now his wife, would visit from their home in Sweden and prepare a Julbord with all the goodies they had smuggled in their suitcases. The smoked eel and smoked reindeer, the cornucopia of sill, and the countless varieties of aquavit were all treats, but the Jansson’s was the centerpiece of these sumptuous buffets. Rich with fragrant cream bubbling in the corners of a crusty top, Jansson’s can best be described as a potato casserole that gets a big boost from onions and anchovies (more on the anchovies, below), which are not immediately identifiable but give the dish an utterly unique and highly addictive quality.

Legend has it that the dish was created by the nineteenth-century opera singer, Pelle Janzon,
who, entertaining late one night, threw together everything he had in his pantry. According to wikipedia, the name was borrowed from a 1928 film, Jansson’s frestelse, and a dish created by the director's mother and her housekeeper, specially for the movie. Regardless, Jansson’s is one of the most iconic dishes in Swedish home cooking (husmanskost). It’s hearty, warming, and comforting, and tends to make an appearance at table as a main dish, rather than as a side, like potato gratin. Aside from the Julbord, Jansson’s is often serve at the end of many parties, especially wedding receptions. Judith Pierce Rosenberg writes in her wonderful book, A Swedish Kitchen, that Jansson’s is “traditionally meant to warm guests for the long sleigh ride back to their farms.”

Hambone and Spice ate Jansson’s recently for a number of reasons. We were cold. I had a tin of sprats fillets in the fridge and don’t know what else to do them. Also, we leave for Sweden next week, and I couldn’t wait until then for my fill of potatoes, onions, anchovies, and cream.

Jansson’s Temptation
A Swedish Kitchen (Judith Pierce Rosenberg)
serves 4

1 tablespoon butter
1 medium yellow onion, thinly sliced
4 medium Yukon Gold potatoes, peeled and cut into 1/4-inch wide matchsticks (5–6 cups)
1 (3-1/2 ounce) can anchovy-style sprats fillets in brine*
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/8 teaspoon white pepper
1-1/2 cups half-and-half
2 tablespoons dry bread crumbs

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F. Grease a 2-quart baking dish. In a medium-size pan, melt the butter and sauté onions on medium heat until soft and translucent, about 10 minutes.

Cover the bottom of the baking dish with half of the potatoes, then add the onions. Place the anchovies, along with a little brine, on top of the onions. Cover the remaining potatoes.

Stir the salt and pepper into the half-and-half and pour over the potatoes. Sprinkle the breadcrumbs on top.

Bake until the potatoes are tender and the top is beginning to brown, about 45 minutes. Serve immediately.

*Do not thinly slice the potatoes as you would for a gratin. The matchstick cut lends a particular aesthetic to the dish. And, of course, it’s traditional, and I've been told that if you mess with this tradition, then the dish doens't taste the same.

** I will tell you straight away that anchovy sprats fillets are different from the Italian and French anchovies you find easily at the grocery store. Anchovy sprats are cured in a brine made of salt, sugar, and spices, such as cinnamon, sandalwood, and ginger, lending a very specific taste to Jansson’s and creating a perfect counterpoint to the smoked and cured meats and fish with which it’s served. Since Will and Helena no longer smuggle Swedish anchovies into the country when they visit, they’re often at a loss for an acceptable substitute. I live in a city with population that celebrates their Scandinavian heritage, and Ingebretsen’s Scandinavian Gifts and Imports on Lake Street carries anchovy sprats—and you can order them online. You may find other online sources, and it's worth the effort to look, but in a pinch, you can use oil-packed anchovies, which should be rinsed well and soaked in milk before using.

cocktail skewers are the new black

I ate the yummiest thing last night, and I cannot stop thinking about it.

My friend Michael, who was hosting our book group, served skewer appetizers (not pictured) that were so simple and so tasty. He pre-loaded double pronged toothpicks with a large basil leaf, a roasted red pepper slice, and a quartered artichoke heart, then added a one-inch chunk of sausage. All of which you were meant to eat in one bite. Michael used a variety of sausages, including chicken-apple and maple chicken, which gave a bit of sweetness to the other pickled or roasted or salty or green flavors.

The whole was brilliant and may have knocked meatballs off my list of favorite cocktail nibbles. Anya von Bremzen has a wonderful list of tapas skewers (banderillas) in The Spanish Table. I’ll go back to this book for inspiration but I’m also dreaming up my own palate-tickling combinations.

Photo credit: Dallas Morning News, which ran a feature on banderillas last summer

SeaSalt

Around these parts, the surest sign of spring isn’t the appearance of tulips and daffodils or green leaves unfurling from buds or the return of songbirds or a day where the temperatures reach 60 degrees. Spring arrives in St. Paul when SeaSalt opens.


Located within Minnehaha Falls park, SeaSalt serves the highest-quality seafood from the teeniest kitchen. For the most part, seating is outside, where you’re serenaded by the roaring waterfall. Service is cafeteria-style, and, since the line typically snakes out the door, you’ve got an opportunity for good eavesdropping. The menu is posted on a blackboard behind the counter where you order. You can count on fish tacos with your choice of tilapia, fried fish, calamari, grilled marlin (my choice tonight), or shrimp. There are fat po’ boys with crawfish, fried oysters (Hambone’s favorite), or fried shrimp. Crab cake sandwiches and soft-shell crab sandwiches are divine, accompanied by exceptional coleslaw. Oil pans are loaded with pickled herring, shrimp cocktail, and raw oysters, then rounded out with a pitcher of beer or a bottle of wine to slake your thirst. Alpha and Beta can easily make a meal out of the calamari appetizer or the clam fries. Quite frankly, so could I.


SeaSalt is a leisurely fifteen-minute bike ride from our house, which means, if I have room, I can spring for a scoop of ice cream before the ride home.

salsa verde

This past week has been an exceptional week for outstanding food. I had my first bratwurst of the season. And there was a red chile enchilada at Barrio, the Minneapolis tequila bar—a flour tortilla casually folded over a chorizo filling and topped with a fried egg—that I can’t stop thinking about it. But the show-stopper on our menu this week was a condiment.

I had a gap in the menu that was filled when I spotted a display of Niman Ranch organic pork chops at the grocery store. Now, we love pork chez H&S, but this is a cut we don’t often eat. Both Hambone and I remember the overly chewy, nearly indigestible pork chops of our respective childhoods and assiduously avoid cooking them as adults. Silly, I know. The Niman Ranch meat was irresistible, providing an opportunity to reconsider the pork chop. I consulted Alice Waters’ Art of Simple Cooking for a pan-frying technique, which seemed (and proved to be) pretty foolproof to execute. I briefly contemplated making a pan sauce with the fond, a little minced shallot, and white wine, which I can make in my sleep, but was a fixated on something green.

Salsa verde is, as the name suggests, a green sauce, such as Argentinean chimichurri or tomatillo salsa. An Italian-style salsa verde traditionally contains parsley, lemon, capers, and anchovies, chopped and blended with olive oil. This rustic sauce is precisely what I had in mind. Long ago I flagged a page for chopped herb sauces in Tyler Florence’s Eat This Book. Basically you dump all the ingredients on a cutting board and give it a rough chop, tip into a bowl, give a squeeze of lemon, and mix in some olive oil. The ingredients—parsley, golden raisins, anchovies, pine nuts, and capers—were an elegant blend of sweet, salty, sour, bright, and mysterious. And it really made something more out of those pork chops. I don't think I'd want them any other way.


The salsa verde gave a great flavor boost to the meaty pork chops, but also proved its flexibility by accompanying fresh Alaskan halibut later in the week. I see more chopped herb sauces in our future and look forward to experimenting with different combinations of fruits, nuts, acidity, and herbs.

burger of the week: bison chili cheeseburgers

Hambone makes the best burgers I have ever eaten. Contrary to patty-making "best practices," which typically suggest barely handling the ground meat as it's shaped, Hambone works each portion well, passing it from hand to hand a number of times before patting it into a burger. This makes for a tender and juicy burger every time. Also, he seasons the patty well, on both sides, before frying in a hot cast-iron skillet.

Hambone has a signature burger, which is the one he treats us to 99 percent of the time, and I have no complaints. I do, however, have a file folder bursting with some fresh recipes for myriad burgers—pork, beef, lamb, chicken, fish, and more. Inspired by warm spring days and anxious to grill, our summer theme is set—burgers.

First up: bison chili cheeseburgers. Whole Foods has been running a special on ground bison so we picked up a 1.5 pounds, a somewhat experimental quantity. Alpha and Beta, who are growing like weeds, have recently demonstrated that they can eat a bit more than their usual quarter pounders. As Hambone was forming the patties, he worked in half a seeded, finely minced jalapeno. The patties were seasoned with salt, pepper, and curry powder, then browned in a cast-iron skillet on each side, and topped with a slice of American (I know, but it is the best for consistent melting) cheese and a generous dollop of handmade guacamole.

What are your favorite ways to prepare burgers?

eating this week

Salty Dog Chocolate Bar

The Twin Cities is home to a number of exceptional chocolatiers, chief among them B.T. McElrath. Ever since my friend Colin introduced me to McElrath's elegantly chocolate-dipped ginger-flecked toffee squares, I have had to fight impulse purchases whenever I go to the grocery store. On the rare occasion that I visit The Golden Fig, where McElrath's truffles are available individually, I treat myself to a morsel. I'll admit, it's hard to choose just one when they come in such incomparable flavors as passion fruit, chile-limon, zinfandel balsamic, and lavender-black peppercorn.

Recently, McElrath debuted chocolate bars, and that short time, I've devoured my fair share of Salty Dog Chocolate Bars—70% dark chocolate with butter toffee bits and sea salt. Chocolate and sea salt is one of my very favorite combinations. These bars are pretty sensational and very affordable ($5.50 per bar, where other luxury chocolates are edging up near $8).

From the packaging:

You have a choice. Eat our Salty Dog Bar salt-side up and you're invited into its rich, dark chocolate charms, only to discover the spiky crunch of toffee and sea salt. eat it salt-side down and feel how the sharp pop of salt ushers in notes of chocolate and caramel. So what's it gonna be: mellow or bold? Or both?

Definitely both.

If you can't find these bars where you live, The Chocolate Shoppe ships anywhere.

comfort food: steakhouse meets diner

Last night, both Hambone and I were looking for a meal that would be homey and comforting, so I whipped up a batch of diner-worthy meatloaf. When I made the first meatloaf of my adult life, I reconstructed my mother’s method. She never used a recipe, having learned to make meatloaf at her mother's elbow, but it consisted basically of ground beef (or, when I was a kid, more likely elk or venison), salt and pepper, and a beaten egg to bind—pretty simple and tasty, if memory serves correctly. I’ve since tried many recipes, trying to find the easiest, most delicious concoction. What I’ve arrived at is quite flexible and very delicious.

In large bowl, I whisked together a couple eggs, 1/4 cup whole milk, 1 teaspoon ground mustard, 1 teaspoon dried thyme*, salt and pepper to taste, 1 teaspoon hot sauce, and 1/2 teaspoon worchestershire sauce. To this mixture, I crumbled in a 1/2 pound each ground veal, beef, and pork**, as well as 1-1/2 cups fresh breadcrumbs***. With my hands, I incorporated the ingredients, until the egg and breadcrumbs were well distributed within the meat. (Typically I also add an onion that has been diced fine, sautéed in olive oil, and cooled slightly, as well as a few minced garlic cloves, but omitted—just this one time—to accommodate the boys' onion phobia. BTW, they’ve asked for the onions to be reappointed.) Then I turned the mixture onto a foil-lined jellyroll pan and formed it into a loaf. A combination of 1/2 cup ketchup and 1 tablespoon each brown sugar and apple cider vinegar was painted on top the meatloaf. Placed in a 375 degree oven, it baked for an hour.


I firmly believe that meatloaf must be consumed with potatoes. Steak can be served with many other carbs—polenta, other root vegetables, or whole-grain pilafs, but meatloaf needs the mealy, starchy potato as a counterpoint to the, well, meatiness. Not to mention that it’s meatloaf’s equal in the comfort department. I had a hankering for
The Palm’s hashbrowns and turned to Julie Child and Jacques Pepin’s pommes de terre macaire.

While assembling the meatloaf, I had four medium-size russets baking in a 425 degree oven, which I then swapped for the meatloaf. I allowed the baked potatoes to cool just enough to be handled (fifteen minutes or so), then removed the skin and, using a round cookie cutter, scrumbled the potatoes into large chunks. During the last ten minutes of the meatloaf’s cooking time, I heated olive oil and butter in a heat-proof skillet, added the potatoes, seasoned generously with salt, pepper, and fresh-ground nutmeg. After a few minutes, I flipped the potatoes to incorporate the seasoning, then pressed down the top and stepped away for six or seven minutes. When the meatloaf came out of the oven, I cranked it back up to 425 degrees and put the potatoes in for 15 minutes.

And what, besides a chewy red wine, goes best with red meat and steakhouse potatoes? Why creamed spinach, of course. A peek into the crisper revealed a lack of spinach but possession of a fine head of lacinato kale. While the meatloaf rested and the potatoes browned, heated 1 tablespoon each butter and olive oil in a large skillet into which I tipped a minced shallot and sweated for a few minutes. Next I added the kale, cut into 1/4-inch strips. Before I lidded the pan, I added a 1/4-cup chicken stock. Five minutes later, I seasoned kale with salt and pepper, tossed the wilted leaves with a teaspoon of flour, and cooked another minute before adding approximately a 1/3 cup half-and-half, which was allowed to bubble and thickened. A grating of fresh nutmeg finished the vibrant green side.

And instead of being transported to every great steakhouse meal we’ve ever had, we set our own new standard.

*Almost any dried or fresh herb, such as savory, rosemary, or herbes de Provence can be used to good effect.
**Venison or bison, alone or in combination with beef or pork, makes a stunning meatloaf.
***Dried breadcrumbs or crumbled crackers also work.