snack

A potato chip rant

maki — Wed, 04 Jul 2007 12:27:57 +0200

If I had to pick just one snack food (to bring to me on that proverbial desert island) it would be potato chips. I love chips but I’m very picky about them too. The New York Times has a feature on chips in today’s Dining section, in which they list their top 10 chips (in the Multimedia feature). Sadly they don’t mention my favorite brand, Terra Chips.

I love Terra Chips so much that I used to carry home bags of them in an otherwise empty suitcase, every time I went to New York. (I haven’t found Terra Chips outside of the NYC area…though maybe I wasn’t looking hard enough.) But for the last 2 years or so I haven’t had to do this - because, joy of joys, Migros, the no. 1 supermarket chain in Switzerland, licensed the Terra Chip name and the technology. I danced for joy when this happened because the standard chip in Switzerland really, horribly, sucks. The Migros Terra Chips cost twice as much as the awful Zwiefel brand, but are worth every single rappen.

Keeping on the subject of chips - one thing I do not get at all about chips (or crisps as they are called in the UK) is the European propensity for flavored chips. Can’t European people appreciate the simple elegance and pure potato flavor of a chip that is only flavored with salt, or even unsalted? I can sort of appreciate vinegar flavored chips and lemon flavored chips, but I can’t go any further. Even the Migros Terra Chips suffer from this: they have a luridly green Wasabi Chip, which is coated with green dyed horseradish powder, and the ubiquitous Paprika Chips (for some reason paprika is a very popular snack flavor here). The Greco Chips are flavored with feta and herbs, and are not too shabby, but are far inferior to the plain salted chip.

The country that is the worst in the flavored chip/crisp realm is the UK, where you can find things like Roast Chicken and Cheese and Onion flavored crisps - all variations of fake, MSG-laden powders that only sully the potato beneath. I love many things about Britain but definitely not the crisps/chips!

I have seen the peanut brittle light, and it shines from Virginia

maki — Tue, 15 May 2007 10:37:04 +0200

One of the (many) food obsessions I have is nut brittles. Peanut brittle, macademia nut brittle, almond brittle (which, when pulverized, turns into praline). I love that combination of caramel and nut flavor. Peanut brittle is the most handy kind to get a hold of, and make. I make it as often as my teeth and waistline allow.

But, I realized yesterday that I have never had truly good peanut brittle.

Max was in Virginia last week for business. Driving down a secondary highway, he happened to pass by Calvin L Adams Country Store, which also sported a large sign saying Adams Peanuts. Knowing my fondness for peanut brittle, he got a bag.

At first I was not wowed - it looks quite plain, in fact, with a dull rather than gloss finish. But one bite into a piece, and I knew that this was peanut brittle nirvana. It contains whole, unskinned peanuts. The brittle part is light and airy, not hard or chewy at all. It breaks into little pieces as soon as you crunch down. The not-too-sweet caramel of the brittle, the peanutty peanuts, and the very slight bitterness of the skins combine to form a heavenly experience.

How could I have lived for so long, not knowing that peanut brittle could be so good? I curse my wasted life so far.

And, joy of joys - Adams’ Peanuts has a web site! Though, worryingly, they don’t list peanut brittle on their Products list. If they don’t ship peanut brittle, a trip to Waverly, Virginia is in my very near future.

Here are some photos of Calvin L. Adams Country Store, aka Adams’ Peanuts:

The interior. The hams, the hams!

Mr. Lionel Adams, the proprietor:

A couple more are on flickr.

Japanese Curry Bread (Kare-pan)

maki — Thu, 01 Mar 2007 15:01:38 +0100

There’s a whole category of breads in Japan called okazu pan. Okazu are the savory dishes that you eat with your bowl of rice at a typical meal, and okazu pan are little breads with savory fillings.

Since curry flavored anything is a hit in Japan, curry bread or kare- pan is one of the most popular okazu pan varieties. It’s a bun made of slightly sweet dough, filled with a spoonful of curry, breaded and deep fried. I am not sure how curry bread originated, but I am guessing it was inspired by Russian piroshki (piroshiki is also a popular okazu pan, though in the Japanese version it often contains very non-Russian fillings like harusame, thin bean noodles). Curry bread is sold at bakeries and convenience stores throughout Japan.

Making curry bread is a bit tricky since it’s deep-fried. It’s easy to make an oily, soggy lump if you fry it too long or at too low a temperature, but if you don’t fry it long enough the center part where the dough meets the filling may be raw. My solution for this is to fry it until it’s puffed and crisped, then to finish it in the oven. The other trick is to roll out the dough as thinly as you can manage without making it so thin that the curry is going to burst through.

You also have to be careful about the consistency of the curry filling. It’s most convenient to start out with some leftover curry, but it has to be reduced down to a very thick, paste-like consistency, otherwise it will run over the dough and make the dough hard to seal. If the dough is not sealed properly, the bun will burst in the oil, which ends up to be quite a mess (oil seeps in, filling seeps out).

All in all, I am not sure I would bother to make curry bread at all if I lived near a Japanese bakery, but I do on occasion get a craving for this very down to earth snack. Try it if you’re up for a bit of a challenge. This recipe is adapted from one in an out-of-print Japanese bread book.

Japanese curry bread or kareh pan (karee pan)

Makes 8 to 10 buns

The dough:

370g / 13 oz all-purpose white flour (see notes)
1 packet, about 7g, regular dry yeast
2 Tbs. sugar
1 1/2 tsp. salt
2 large eggs, beaten, with 1 Tbs. taken out and reserved for the eggwash (see below)
160cc / about 5.4 fluid oz.or 5/8th cup milk
40g / 1.4 oz (about 2 1/2 Tbs.) butter, at room temperature

The filling:

About 4 cups of leftover curry or readymade foil-pack curry (though if you’re going to all the trouble you might as well start with your own curry)

The coating:

Bread crumbs - dry panko crumbs preferred
The reserved 1 Tbs. egg from the dough (see above)
Milk

To fry:

Oil (I used peanut oil)

Epuipment and supplies:

Parchment paper, cut into 10 pieces about 20cm / 8 in cm square (big enough to hold the buns)
Food processor (useful but not required)
Pastry brush
Deep fat fryer or wok or a deep enough pan for frying
A spatula big enough to put a bun on
Oven

(Hint: click on each small image to get a larger view.)

Make the dough. If you’re using a food processor, put all the dry ingredients into the bowl and whiz to mix. Add the egg (don’t forget to reserve 1 tablespoon for the coating/wash), and while the machine is running, slowly add the milk until the dough forms a ball around the blade. Stop and add the butter in pieces, process for about a minute. Take it out and knead it briefly to form a ball.

If you’re mixing by hand, mix together the dry ingredients with a whisk (or sift). Make a well in the middle of the mixed dry stuff. Add the egg (don’t forget to reserve 1 Tbs. for the coating/wash) and milk into the well, and mix rapidly with your fingertips until you get a rough dough. Continue mixing until you have a ball. Add the butter, cut into small pieces, and knead on a lightly floured surface. The dough will be very sticky at first but resist the temptation to flour your board too much, or the dough will become very stiff. If you keep scraping off the stuck on dough with a scraper and kneading and stretching, eventually the dough will become smooth, coherent and pliable.

Once you have a nice smooth dough ball, put into a clean ball, cover with plastic film and let rise for about 1 to 1/2 hours until doubled in size. Punch down the dough, re-cover and let rise an additional 45 minutes.

While the dough is rising, deal with the curry. Mash down or smoosh/cut up any big bits of carrot, potato, meat etc. Over a low heat, slowly cook down the curry until it’s reduce to 2 cups or so, and thick and paste-like. Let cool, then refrigerate until stiff.

Take out the dough, punch down, knead and divide into 8 to 10 pieces. Roll each piece into a ball, and let rest for about 15 minutes under a piece of plastic or a damp kitchen towel.

Put about 1 tablespoon of milk in the reserved egg, and mix well.

Start forming the buns. With a rolling pin or with your hands, flatten out each piece into a thin round, with the center thicker than the edges. If you’re making 10 buns the circle should be about 18cm / 7 inches in diameter.

Paint the edges of the circle with the egg wash. Don’t make it too wet - the purpose of the eggwash it to act as a glue to form a seal.

Put a tablespoon or so of curry in the center of the circle. Gather up the opposing edges of the circle above the filling.

Pinch the dough all around to seal well, like making a dumpling.

When the edges are all crimped, push the crimped edge down to one side.

Add a bit more milk to the egg wash and put into a bowl or dish big enough to contain a bun. Dip the bun into the egg wash, coating it on all sides, then roll in bread crumbs.

Put each bun on a piece of parchment paper. Leave in a warm place for about 15 minutes - the buns should rise to about 1.5 times their original size.

In the meantime, preheat the oven to 150°C / 300°F. Heat the frying oil to 175°C / 350°F (this is pretty hot, be careful).

If the buns have developed any gaps, pinch them closed.

Pick up a bun with the paper, with a spatula. Slide the bun, paper and all, into the hot oil. Don’t worry the paper won’t burn - just scoop it out with the spatula.

Fry the buns until golden brown - this shouldn’t take more than 5 minutes per bun. If they won’t stay down just hold them down a bit. Do about 2 or 3 at a time at most - don’t overcrowd the pan.

Drain well on a rack or several layers of paper towels, and put the buns on a baking sheet. Bake for about 8-10 minutes.

Serve hot or at room temperature.

Notes

If you’re in Japan use 300g ‘strong flour’ (kyou-ryokuko) and 70g ‘weak flour’ (hakuriki-ko)
You can make curry just for the bread, but making a small amount of curry is a bother, so just plan for a curry meal and reserve some for a later curry bread. (You can freeze the reserved curry as long as you take out the potatoes.)
Panko or Japanese crunchy breadcrumbs are the best to use for this. They absorb a lot less oil than soft breadcrumbs.
You can use other fillings, like cooked-down bolognese sauce, leftover stew, or even a stiff custard sauce. As long as the filling is stable enough that it doesn’t run over the sides when placed in the center of the dough circle, it should work fine.
If deep frying doesn’t appeal to you, just omit the breadcrumb coating, brush with eggwash, and bake in a 180°C / 360°F oven for 20-25 minutes until golden brown. It won’t be the same as the fried version but will still be pretty good.

Spicy crunchy chick pea snack

maki — Thu, 28 Sep 2006 19:40:34 +0200

When I'm really into something, whether it's trying to debug some code or work out a design that won't gel, I forget about everything else, including eating. Then, hours later I raise my head out of the mire and I'm starving and ready to eat everything in sight - usually stuff like potato chips and cookies.

That can't be too healthy, so I've really tried to keep around non-distracting yet reasonably healthy things to snack on while working (and a bottle of water too). Fresh, portable fruit like apples and bananas are great of course. So are nuts, but while nuts are quite healthy overall, they are also very high in calories. And a handful of dry-roasted peanuts, which could be about half a cup, is more than 335 calories. So some time ago, I switched to using beans in snacks. Chick peas are perfect for this since they cook relatively fast because of their rather thin skins, and a cupful is around 270 calories. Even with the added olive oil, 3 tablespoons for the whole batch, it's still quite lower in calories, and quite tasty too. (Source for calorie figures: Calorie Count.) A half-cupful is just as filling as the equal amount of nuts.

There are lots of recipes online for crunchy snacky chick peas, including one for Chickpeas with Thai Chiles in the most recent Food section of the New York Times. I tend to vary the flavor of mine depending on my mood, but this spicy version is my current favorite. It has added taste and texture interest because of the addition of whole spices - black cumin seeds, whole cumin seeds, mustard seeds, plus red pepper flakes and ground cardamon. It has a wonderful sort of Middle-Eastern/Indian flavor. You can use any kind of ground or whole spices you like, but I would avoid turmeric since that can stain your fingers, and whatever you wipe your fingers on (like your jeans...)

Incidentally, the German word for chick peas is kichererbsen, which literally means "giggling peas". Whenever I ask the Taste Tester to bring home some chick peas from the store he feels obliged to giggle like a girl. I try to remember to bop him one when he does it, but the tough love approach isn't curing this odd affliction so far.

Spicy crunchy chick peas

Note, I do cook dry chick peas since they are so much cheaper than the canned kind, and as I've noted above they cook relatively fast compared to other beans. If you are in a hurry or can't be bothered, use canned, drained chick peas.

1lb or 500g bag of dry chick peas
4 garlic cloves
3 Tbs. olive oil
1-2 tsp (or more or less, depending on how spicy you want it) dried red chili pepper flakes
1 tsp. black onion seeds (also called nigella seeds)
1 tsp. whole cumin seeds
1 tsp. black mustard seeds
1/2 tsp. ground cardamon
Juice from 1 small lime or 1/2 lemon
Sea salt

Sort the chick peas (take out any discolored ones) and soak in water for several hours or overnight. Drain, and place in plenty of water for about 2 hours or until tender. Drain. You'll have about 6 cups of cooked chickpeas.

Preheat the oven to 200°C/400°F.

Peel and chop the garlic cloves rather coarsely.

Toss all the ingredients together thoroughly. Spread evenly over a baking sheet. Bake for 30 minutes, stirring around midway through. Take out and let cool. [Edit: this baking time turns out peas that are a mix of crunchy ones and ones that are still a bit soft - I like this variety. Since all ovens vary, you will need to test the doneness. If you like your peas to be a bit soft, bake them for a shorter time; if you like them very crunchy leave them in longer.]

Store this in an airtight container in the refrigerator. Makes a great beer snack.

You can make it sweet-spicy by sprinkling over some brown or raw sugar to while it's still hot from the oven.

Makes about 6 cups.

Notes

You can find onion (nigella) seeds and other spices at an Indian grocery store. Online you can find them on the Amazon Gourmet store.

The seeds can turn a little bitter after roasting. I like that bitterness but if you don't, just leave the seeds behind when serving the chick peas. The flavors will still be there. Or, add them later on in the cooking process, with about 10 minutes to go.

Oyatsu and kasutera (castella), a Japanese sponge cake

maki — Tue, 22 Aug 2006 16:49:03 +0200

In my previous post about Japanese food, I talked about what makes up a typical Japanese meal, which applies to breakfast, lunch and dinner. There's a fourth meal that is very much a part of Japanese food life - oyatsu. Oyatsu is snack time, and it's usually eaten at 3 in the afternoon.

Oyatsu consists of a drink, which is usually tea for adults and milk or soft drink for kids, and a sweet or savory snack. A lot of the Japanese snack industry is geared towards oyatsu items. It's lighter than an English afternoon tea - it's more like elevenses (the snack that was traditionally consumed around 11 in the morning in England). It helps to keep hungry kids going until dinner time, and provides a good excuse for the adults to take a break.

One of my favorite oyatsu snacks growing up in Japan was kasutera or castella, and it remains a favorite even now. The origins of kasutera, a light sponge cake that is most often flavored with honey, are in either Portugal, Spain, or both. The first recorded Westerners to ever land on Japanese soil were Portuguese missionaries. They were eventually kicked out because the feudal government disliked their trying to spread Christianity, which they considered to to be subversive. But they did leave their legacy in the form of additions to the language and to the cuisine. (Wikipedia page on kasutera's history.)

Kasutera is a kind of sweet that is hardly ever baked at home in Japan. It's available in all price ranges, from mass-produced plastic wrapped kinds that you can buy in any supermarket to expensive "gourmet" labels. Perhaps because the Portuguese influence was the strongest there, the southernmost main island of Kyushuu has some of the best kasutera makers.

The best known mass-produced kasutera brand is Bunmeido. This is the one we ate all the time when I was growing up. I can still remember the jingle, which didn't make sense then and still doesn't make sense now -

kasutera ichiban, denwa wa niban,
sanji no oyatsu wa Bunmeido
(Kasutera no.1, telephone no. 2, 3 o'clock snack is Bunmeido)

This jingle was sung by a line of teddy bears doing the can-can. (Here's a YouTube video where you can hear the jingle, though those dudes are somewhat less cute than the original teddy bears.)

I used to work for a company run by a family from Nagasaki. Although my boss was very difficult to deal with in many respects, he almost redeemed himself in my eyes by always bringing a block of delicious kasutera with him whenever he flew back from Japan.

A good kasutera is moist, with a very fine texture, and is very light. It should have a dark brown and sugary top and bottom - the sides are usually cut off, exposing the yellow crumb. It is sweet yet not cloyingly sweet. It does not have a speck of oil in it - no butter, no margerine, no shortening. Yet it is very rich. The best flavoring is honey, though other sugary syrups are often used too. There are variations, like matcha (green tea) or chocolate flavored, but I prefer the traditional honey flavor.

A slice of kasutera is the perfect accompaniment to a cup of hot green tea, unsweetened of course.

If I lived in Japan, frankly I don't think I would make my own kasutera because of all the delicious brands out there. It's also not that easy to make, since it uses the classical cake making method of whisking together whole eggs and sugar in a bowl over hot water until it's thick. But it's hard to get good kasutera here, so on occasion I haul out my electric whisk and get going. The results are usually worth all the effort. The only bad thing is that the kasutera disappears so fast.

Kasutera (Castella)

Please note that my original recipe is in metric, and unlike many other of my recipes it's best to be pretty precise in your measurements for this. So I have given amounts in grams/ounces rather than cups.

8 whole "large" (55g) eggs
300g (10.5 oz) sugar, raw cane sugar preferred, or use regular granulated sugar, plus a little extra sugar for sprinkling
200g (7 oz) all-purpose or bread flour (not cake flour)
100cc (about 1/2 cup, or 3.5 fluid oz) milk
4 Tbs. honey, plus one extra Tbs. for the top

Equipment and other supplies:

Electric whisk
A rectangular cake pan, or a square 25cm / 8 inch cake pan, see notes
Parchment paper
A large mixing bowl
A pan large enough to fit the bottom of the mixing bowl
A hand whisk
A spatula
A pastry brush
A plastic ziplock bag

Preheat the oven to 170°C / 340°F, or 150°C / 300°F if you're using a convection oven.

Cut the parchment paper so that it's large enough to fit the bottom and sides of the cake pan with a little excess. Fold it in until it completely covers the bottom and sides, leaving a it hanging over. (To make it stick to the pan, smear a little butter or shortening on the pan first.) Sprinkle a little sugar over the bottom, on top of the paper.

Fill the pot with water and bring to a boil, then turn off the heat.

Mix together the milk and 4 tablespoons of honey - you may need to heat up the mixture for a few seconds in the microwave.

Measure the flour and sugar. Double-sift the flour. (That means passing it through your sifter or sieve twice.)

Break the eggs into the bowl and whisk. Add the sugar. Start whisking this while holding the bowl over the pan of hot water. As soon as the mixture feels lukewarm to the touch, take it off the water and continue whisking. If it cools down again, put it back on the hot water pan to warm it up. You get the best texture if you stick to the lowest setting on your electric whisk, or whisk by hand, but you'll be at it for a long, long time. I usually turn up my electric whisk to about setting 2 or 3 until it starts to thicken, and then do the rest of the whisking at setting 1 to have small bubbles at the end. Either way though, you'll be whisking for...a long....time. (Give it at least 15 minutes with an electric whisk...and a lot longer by hand.)

When you are done the batter will be thick enough to form soft peaks when you draw up your whisk. If you write your initial on the surface with the whisk, it should stay there long enough for you to read it before it disappears.

Whisk in the milk and honey mixture. Add the flour with your hand whisk a tablespoon at a time, beating until there are no pockets of flour.

Pour the batter into the pan up to the top. (see notes about what to do with any leftover batter.) Put in the oven and bake for about 50 minutes or until a skewer stuck in the middle comes out clean.

In the meantime, mix together the 1 tablespoon of honey and a little hot water, to make a glaze.

As soon as the cake is out of the oven, brush the top with the honey-water mixture.

When it's cool enough to handle but still warm, lift it out of the pan, paper and all, and put into a plastic bag. Seal the bag and put into the refrigerator, for at least several hours. This step is critical to ensure the kasutera has a moist texture. If you let it cool to room temperature before putting it in the plastic bag, it will end up a bit dry.

To serve, use a very sharp knife to make clean cuts. Cut off the sides (cook's treat) and make small, neat slices - one or two per person. Serve with hot or cold unsweetened tea.

Notes:

This batter is the right amount for a rectangular cake pan about 30 cm long x 10 cm wide, but most people probably have a 25cm / 8 inch square cake pan, and the kasutera comes out fine in that. You may have some excess batter, which can be baked in lined cupcake/muffin tins alongside the main cake. Take the cupcakes out after 20-25 minutes, then continue cooking the main cake. I can get a whole square cake plus 6-12 (depending on the size) cupcakes out of this.
Green tea is great with this, or try genmai-cha (green tea with toasted rice grains in it). In the summer, a cool glass of mugicha (toasted barley tea) is perfect.

Tapenade with walnuts

maki — Tue, 25 Jul 2006 14:19:00 +0200

Regular readers of this site may wonder about the lack of recipes recently. Truth is, I haven't been doing much real cooking lately, as in taking out the pots and pans and turning on the heat. While summer here in Switzerland is quite tolerable due to cool mornings and evenings, during the day the temperature does reach the 30s celsius which isn't too nice since, as with most Swiss houses, we don't have air conditioning. Besides, even if you do have air conditioning or cool evenings, there are so many other things to do during the summer that cooking becomes a low priority, doesn't it?

Short of eating out every meal, I like to make things that take minimal preparation that we can just nibble on. Tartines with simple spreads are a perfect example. In case you are unfamiliar with tartines, they are basically just baguettes or French bread or any kind of good bread with a crusty crust, sliced quite thinly and then topped with something tasty. If you prefer to take your culinary vocabulary from Italy you would call them bruschetta.

Here's some just spread with store-bought paté and runny cheese.

And here are some spread with a tapenade with chopped walnuts. The tapenade is the only thing I cooked, if you can call it that. The only heat involved was for roasting the walnuts briefly in a dry pan for a bit. Then it was all just whizzed in the food processor. This particular combination of flavors was inspired by a similar tapenade that we got at the market in Nyons in Provence. When I eat this, I'm transported back there in spirit.

The key to tapenade is to have really good ingredients. If you are in the States or anywhere else where you can get those awful canned olives that taste like burned plastic, please do not use them. Get good cured olives from a reputable source. I prefer crinkly oil-cured olives from Provence, but Italian, Spanish or Greek olives will do too - taste and compare. This is also the time to pull out your best cold-pressed extra virgin olive oil.

I have omitted the usual anchovies from this tapenade since I wanted a clean olive and walnut flavor, but you can add anchovies if you really love them. I also grate the garlic so that you don't get little garlic bits.

Black olive tapenade with walnuts

Approximately 2 cups of pitted black olives, oil cured preferred
1/2 cup walnut halves
2 garlic cloves
Approximately 1/2 cup cold pressed extra virgin olive oil
1 Tbs. lemon juice

Equipment needed: a food processor

To pit the olives, put them in a plastic bag, spread them over a chopping board and smack them with the side of a heavy kitchen knife. The pits should come out relatively easily. Or, use a cherry/olive pitter.

Toss the walnuts in a dry frying pan over medium heat until they start to smell toasty. Take off the heat and let cool.

Peel the garlic cloves and grate them to a pulp with a fine grater. (Yes, your fingers will smell garlicky afterwards. If you do not love this, you may want a garlic press. I don't own one.)

Place the walnuts in the bowl of a food processor. Pulse until they are relatively finely chopped. Take out.

Put the olives in the food processor. Process until finely chopped. Then, with the machine running, add the olive oil slowly through the feed tube until it forms a fairly smooth yet thick paste.

Add the grated garlic and lemon juice, and add the chopped walnuts, and pulse until mixed. You don't want the walnuts to become a powder since the contrast in textures makes it interesting.

Taste and adjust with salt/pepper only if needed. Spread on bread slices, or use as a dip.

Covered, this keeps for about a week in the refrigerator (but it probably won't last that long).

Papaya King: the best hot dog / juice joint in New York

maki — Fri, 14 Jul 2006 19:47:24 +0200

There is one food pilgrimage that I make without fail every time I'm in New York. It's not a visit to a famous, expensive restaurant. It's not even a bagel stop at my favorite bagel place (Ess-a-Bagel) or a trot around my favorite gourmet mega-mart (Fairway). It's a stop at the best hot dog joint in the city, if not the world, Papaya King.

You see bright yellow hot dog slash juice joints occupying many a New York street corner. They look suspiciously the same: garish printed or neon signs stuck all over proclaiming it to be the Best in New York, little if any space to sit inside, an assortment of fruit juices.

I have tried many of these others. Gray's Papaya may claim to be the same, and they are darned good. But nay, Papaya King rules them all.

The Papaya King I have to go to is in my old neighborhood on the Upper East Side, on the corner of 86th Street and Third Avenue. Apparently there are other Papaya Kings around the city, but I am drawn, like a moth to a flame, to the one I used to stop by at least once a week, back in the day.

What do I have there? Always the exact same thing. Two grilled hotdogs, just slightly blackened, on buns that are just a bit toasted so that they are crusty at the edges. Toppings? Not for me. I love the juicy meatiness of those "Tastier Than Filet Mignon" franks unadorned or with just a controlled squirt of brown mustard. And of course, a genuine papaya juice to go with it. The Papaya King papaya juice is more like a nectar than a watery juice, thick, fruity, cool and delicious.

I would ponder on the perfect pairing of two hot dogs and papaya juice, such as the digestive powers of papain (a main ingredient in commercial meat tenderizers), but the bottom line is they just go so perfectly together. It's the perfect snack or small meal. Okay, not the healthiest perhaps but hey, you gotta live on the edge sometimes.

I know, sausages in general are much better over on the other side of the Atlantic, especially on the streets of Swiss and German towns. But there's nothing to match Papaya King anywhere else.

Related: The Papaya King website includes a great history of the company.

Technorati Tags: hotdog, newyork, nyc, papaya, papaya king, street food

Japanese snack: Kakipea, or Kaki no Tane

maki — Mon, 06 Mar 2006 20:03:06 +0100

Since I am a Japanese person living outside of Japan, it's sort of amusing to see how my home culture has become so trendy in recent years. Japanese food along with other Asian cuisines have been incorporated into the lineups of mainstream European and American food sources. You no longer have to explain to people that ramen is a kind of (mostly sold as instant) noodle, or that tofu is not a sort of cheese. At Migros, the leading supermarket chain in Switzerland, they sell even an odd-tasting drink they call Kombu-cha (kombu seaweed tea) which is nothing like any kombu tea I've ever encountered in Japan, but it's just one indication of how popular Japanese-like flavors are becoming.

Traditional Japanese snack foods like senbei (rice crackers) and dried bean and pea based snacks are quite "in" at the moment too. Since most such snacks are air-dried instead of being deep fried, they are a bit healthier than things like potato chips. At the moment the snack getting the most attention may be the stingingly strong wasabi pea snack, a rather recent innovation (as in, the last 10-15 years). There is another old time Japanese snack which I think has all the star potential to become trendy: kakipea.

Kakipea is a mixture of two items. The first is the kaki part, which is a shortened form of kaki no tane, which literally means persimmon (kaki) seeds. They are not real seeds, but rather tiny little puffy rice crackers that are shaped to look sort of like seeds. The little "seeds" are coated with a mixture of soy sauce, various typically Japanese flavorings like sugar, bonito flake flavor, and so on, and most importantly chili. The chili makes them quite spicy, though not with the tear-inducing, nasal-clearing strength of wasabi peas. Wasabi flavored kakipea are also available, but I prefer the original soy sauce-based ones.

Tempering the spiciness of the kaki no tane are some plain roasted peanuts - the "pea" part of the name. (Well in correct romaji the a would be an e, but kakipee doesn't sound too appetizing.) The balance between bland nutty peanut and spicy kaki no tane is the key to the more-ishness of kakipea. Although kaki no tane is sold on its own, I think it achieves true snack-star status by its pairing with the peanuts. Incidentally, most packages that are called kaki no tane nowadays are actually kakipea.

The kind I like is made by Kameda Seika. They sell kakipea in convenient bags of 6 minipacks. Each minipack is about 200 calories. The mix of carbohydrate, protein and fat in each pack is just perfect as a mid-afternoon snack, and the spiciness wakes you up nicely.

Nothing is deep-fried, so no greasy hands.

A bonus of the Kameda minipacks is that each packet is illustrated with the most adorable characters, the kenage gumi - those objects that never assume a starring role and just keep plugging along. Some kenage zoku on recently consumed packs include the back of a postage stamp, weather vanes, and the shells that get used as temporary dishes for shellfish dishes and then get discarded. I think the message is that kakipea are unsung hard workers of the snack world, or something. It's a very Japanese sensibility. If you don't read Japanese, just enjoy the cuteness of the illustrations as you crunch away. For a preview of the cute illustrations, check out the Kameda Seika website (Japanese). Kameda brand snacks are available at most Japanese and Korean grocery stores, and also from online sources.

The drink to have with kakipea, is green tea, hot or cold. They're also excellent beer snacks.

Technorati Tags: Japanese, kaki no tane, kakipea, rice

Masterchef challenge day 20: Chicken Liver Paté; Tartines

maki — Fri, 03 Mar 2006 12:36:31 +0100

I am a week behind in posting this, but here we go. Day 20 of Masterchef brought us these ingredients:

Chicken
Chicken livers
Bread (unspecified, but they showed a baguette)
Walnuts
Raisins
Brandy
Bacon
Pears

This is the second challenge with liver, but chicken liver is a bit easier to deal with than calf's liver in my opinion. This paté is something I have been making since I was in high school. It's always been a reliable hit whenever I've made it for a party. The very first party I served it at was for some church people my father decided to invite to our house. I still remember the pastor enthusiastically munching his way throug the paté on toast that I had carefully arranged on a platter. The flavor is sort of related to chopped liver (though chopped liver has no bacon or cream in it obviously), which is a staple of any good diner menu on Long Island, New York, where I spent my last year of high school before moving on to college in NYC. My father and sister still live on Long Island, and I try to get at least one diner lunch in whenever I go and visit them.

The paté is put into small containers and sealed on top with rendered chicken fat. Rendered chicken fat is called schmaltz in Yiddish, and it's the most delicious yet guilt-inducing fat ever. Duck fat is also as rich, but the fact that it's French seems to somehow reduce the guilt factor a bit since by consuming it you are indicating you are a cultured, worldly individual. Schmaltz has no such cachet, but it should!

This pateé is a snap to make with a food processor. It is very rich, so put it into small containers. The chicken fat on top forms an airtight seal that allows it to keep for several days in the refrigerator. If you don't have enough chicken skin to render enough fat, use melted butter.

Unused ingredients: chicken meat, raisins, pears (out of season!!)

Technorati Tags: liver, liver pate, masterchef

Chicken liver paté with walnuts

200g / 7 oz chicken livers
1 shallot, chopped
4 slices bacon, finely chopped
200ml / 1/2 pint heavy cream
about 450g / 1 lb chicken skins (I save the skins taken off of chicken in the freezer), or butter
3 Tbs. brandy
Pinch dried thyme
1 bay leaf
Salt and pepper
1/2 cup walnuts
1 baguette

Chop the chicken skins up roughly, and put in a shallow pan with a little water. Let it cook over a medium-low heat until the chicken pieces are all crispy and the fat has been rendered. Season with a little salt. The rendering takes quite a while, so start it off at the start. Or, just use butter.

Cut off any membranes from the chicken livers, and wash in cold water.

Sauté the shallot in butter or the rendered chicken fat. Add the bacon and cook over medium-low heat. Add the chicken livers and sprinkle with the brandy. Add the cream, bay leaf and thyme. Simmer slowly for 15-20 minutes.

In the meantime, slice the baguette on the diagonal, put on a baking sheet and bake in the oven at 200°C / 400°F until brown and crispy. Toast the walnuts by putting them in a small frying pan with no added oil, and tossing about until they smell good and get a bit deeper brown in color.

Purée the chicken liver mixture in the food processor until very smooth - about 2 minutes minimum. Pass it through a sieve to make it really smooth. Taste and season with salt and pepper, remembering that when it's cool the flavors will be a bit less intense.

Put the still warm liver purée into small containers. Top off with a layer of chicken fat or melted butter. Let cool in the refrigerator (or if you are in a hurry, in the freezer).

To serve, spread the paté on a toast slice, and top with a walnut; or simply put out the toasted slices on the table with the paté in little pots, and the walnuts in a bowl.

Note: You can add a chopped onion to the chicken skins to give the schmaltz even more flavor.

Masterchef challenge day 19: Vegetarian Okonomiyaki

maki — Tue, 28 Feb 2006 16:58:33 +0100

For a more authentic okonomiyaki, try this detailed recipe.

Day 19! The ingredients are:

Aubergines (eggplant)
Zucchini (courgettes)
Kale
Vine leaves
Tomatoes
Brown rice
Goats cheese

This was a challenge to make something vegetarian. I couldn't think of a way to cook brown rice properly without a pressure cooker within 40 minutes. One obvious thing to do with this list would have been some kind of quick ratatouille, but I was just not in a Mediterranean mood. So, I ended up making a vegetarian version of one of my favorite Japanese snacks, okonomiyaki.

Okonomiyaki means "cooked (pan-fried/grilled) as you like". It's a sort of pancake with lots of gu, or add-on ingredients. There are specialty okonomiyaki restaurants and food stands, especially in Osaka, where they are either cooked to order in front of you, or the customers make their own.

The okonomiyaki batter is a mix of flour, egg, grated yam or taro root (yamaimo), and dashi stock. Since dashi is fish based, I have exchanged it here for vegetable stock, and since yam is not that easy to get a hold of here I've used grated white potato instead. If you are a vegan, you may want to use an egg substitute. I've also added some dark or toasted sesame oil, which is not traditional, but it gives a nice flavor boost in lieu of the traditonal flavor enhancing ingredients such as bonito flakes, dried shrimp, pork slices, or tenkasu. Tenkasu is the bits of fried batter left over from a tempura session. I don't do tempura frequently enough to have tenkasu around, and store-bought tenkasu tends to be rather disgusting.

The keys to making a good okonomiyaki are to shred the vegetables very finely, or to pre-cook them. In this one I have pre-sautéed the eggplant (aubergine) cubes but the cabbage, green onion and zucchini (courgettes) are raw. The other key is to cook the okonomiyaki through thoroughly. If it's raw in the middle, it's not very edible. So after you flip the okonomiyaki over, lower the heat so that the batter and the vegetables will be well cooked without the surface burning too much.

The bright red stuff is beni sho-ga, pickled ginger that has been dyed with a food dye. It's available in jars or plastic pouches at Japanese or Korean food stores. It's considered to be a rather low-class ingredient in Japan, but I love the bright color in things like okonomiyaki and yakisoba (Japanese style lo mein). You can use undyed pickled ginger if the lurid red bothers you, or very finely shredded fresh ginger.

Finally, the flavor of an okonomiyaki is greatly influenced by what sauce you put on it. In Osaka you would put on a combination of mayonnaise and a brown sauce (chuuno sauce) similar to tonkatsu sauce. In Hiroshima, the sauce is thinner and a bit sweeter. You can get special okonomiyaki sauce in Japanese food stores. I usually like it with with a sprinkle of soy sauce, and maybe a pinch of shichimi tohgarashi - a mixed red pepper powder with citrus, sesame and chili peppers. (The okonomiyaki shown in the photo is a pre-sauce version.)

I realize a lot of these ingredients are not standard Western staples, but they are staples in my kitchen and most Japanese kitchens. Please give it a try if you have access to a Japanese food store! And (especially for people who have requested an okonomiyaki recipe here in the past) if you want to turn this into straight up traditional okonomiyaki, see the notes at the bottom of the recipe.

Unused ingredients: tomato, vine leaves, goat cheese, brown rice.

Technorati Tags: masterchef, okonomiyaki

Vegetarian Okonomiyaki

2 cups boiling water
1 tsp vegetable stock powder (or equivalent stock cube)
1 egg or equivalent egg substitute
1 small potato, grated
1 Tbs. dark sesame oil
1 1/2 cups plain white flour, sifted
1 cup cubed eggplant
1 cup finely shredded kale or cabbage
1/c cup finely chopped green onion
1 cup finely shredded zucchini
2 Tbs. shredded beni sho-ga or very finely shredded fresh ginger
Oil for cooking
Soy sauce, tonkatsu or chu-noh or okonomiyaki sauce or steak sauce, mayonnaise
Optional non-vegetarian additions: bonito flakes, small dried shrimp

Dissolve the vegetable stock in the boiling water. Set aside to cool.

Sauté the cubed eggplant in a little oil until cooked through. Set aside.

Beat the egg and the stock-water together; add the potato and the sesame oil. Slowly add the flour until you have a rather thick batter.

Heat up a non-stick griddle or frying pan over medium high heat with a little peanut or other flavorless oil. Pour in a ladleful of the batter, and spread a mixture of the shredded kale or cabbage, zucchini, green onion and cubed eggplant on top evenly, while the batter on top is still wet. Dot with a few sprinkles of the beni sho-ga. Press lightly with a spatula.

When the edges look a bit brown, carefully flip the okonomiyaki over. Press down firmly, and lower the heat to about medium. Cook for at least 10 minutes, pressing down occasionally, until it's thoroughly cooked through.

Serve immediately. Each person spreads their preferred sauce combination on their okonomiyaki.

Note: to make this a more traditional okonomiyaki, use dashi instead of vegetable stock, and add a handful of bonito flakes and/or dried shrimp powder when you spread on the vegetables. You'd also use grated yam or taro root instead of potato, though that doesn't make a huge difference in the texture.

To make an even more substantial okonomiyaki, you can lay on thin strips of pork, a handful of cooked yakisoba noodles, crack an egg on top—the variations are endless.