Szechuan Eggplant, Restyled

We had a recipe for Szechuan Eggplant which required the eggplant to be soaked in water, deep fried, then soaked in water again, then simmered with a hot red sauce.  Yes, it's worth it, but there must be a less arduous, less caloric way to create this dish.  It's so good that I bought a dozen long eggplant to make more and experiment a bit.

Instead of frying, we decided to roast the eggplant -- even though this means we lose the lovely opalescent purply color of the skin.  We scored the skin side; the flavor of the sauce doesn't penetrate the skin side, otherwise.  Plus, not only does it not pull the flesh of the eggplant so it falls apart, but it's easier to chew the skin when it's already scored.  Be careful not to overcook, or it goes mushy.

While roasting, chop up ginger, garlic, and scallions.  Heat a wok and drizzle a tablespoon or so of vegetable oil.  When the oil starts to smoke, add these vegetables and stir-fry till wilted and the mixture is bright green in color.

Add gochujan paste, soy sauce, red wine vinegar and water to loosen up the mixture.

When the eggplant are browned and still hot, toss with the sauce to coat.  If you wish, you can simmer in the sauce for a few minutes, but we'd forgotten to do this step previously and it was still delicious.  Finish with a drizzle of toasted sesame oil.

It's great on it's own as a main course offering with some rice or noodles.  Or as a sandwich filling.

Tail o' Poolish

Baguettes are a sort of benchmark of bread making; croissants are, too.  They are a basic bread, consisting of flour, water, yeast only.  They require more knowhow than they require technique, and time is needed to develop flavor.

The flavor comes from poolish, an analog to a sourdough starter, and if you skimp of the required 15 hours, the baguette won't have the expected flavor.  Fear not -- you need to remember to start the poolish so many hours ahead, but otherwise, it's nothing special, other than to not poke at it or keep looking at it.  Forget it for 15 hours, seriously.

The other thing that is important is the forming and slashing of the dough.  In bread competitions, the crumb of the bread is important, as well as the lack of any evidence that the dough has been overworked or "abused."  So, despite what we may have learned about kneading bread dough, you really do need to pay attention to the dough.

Slashing the cuts is a bit like creating a stretchmark -- you are creating a weak spot so the bread can "bloom" out and form into a uniform shape without ripping or cracking in an unattractive or destructional manner.  it's a little counterintuitive, so the first ones should be about following and replicating the masters till you "get it."  like gru.

right out of the oven -- two baguettes with nice slashmarks
and one row of rolls called the dragon tail 

the dragon tail rolls are cut like epi rolls, but the tails are folded
back onto the roll.  the resulting row of rolls resembles
the spine of some mythical reptile ;)

to eat, pull the dragon tail "vertebrae" apart

nice creamy looking crumb!

Quid Pro Quo: So Little Time, So Much to Know

guess which one is me?  (from the yellow submarine: sea of holes)

I just spent a fun weekend with my fab-four, though we were not "all together now," since we're now grown-ups and can't all make it where and when we said we would or wish we could.  this time, for the first time, our casual group portrait required "photoshopping in" to get the four of us into it.  there are even "significant others."  like i said, we're now grown-ups.  so we look at the good, mostly.  we also forgot to take photos of all of us, in general -- maybe we are entering dementia?

We ate a lot, too.  We even managed to cook one of the meals.  A partial log of 4 days:

Scant Old Evidence

I think most people love birthdays -- it's an acknowledged and valid way to get attention and presents.  And others are nominally nice to you for the day, at least.  But perhaps most people don't want to acknowledge how many birthdays they've already had, if you know what I mean?  And some of us simply don't want to deal, because it means some effort needs to be made.  And yet others are celebrating but also hiding.

In my case, the photos we salvaged from my birthday brunch are sparse; result: I don't quite recall what we ate, nor who was actually there.  I know someone called in sick; others had to leave early.  And yet others showed up as a surprise.  I'm just old, maybe.

The photos we did manage to take consist of hunks of uncooked meat, and the remainders of what were once full bowls of things.  And one of Eric making as many buckwheat blini as he could, which was just as well -- none were left over!

All in all, a successful birthday brunch.  :)  Thank you, all!

they look less than toothsome at this point, but these are the briskets
straight out of the pickling solution,
sitting atop carrots, celery, cabbage, onions, and spices and herbs.
brian did the cutting and assembly while i hollered answers to
his questions.  i washed the big nesco, too.

eric was visiting, and you know what that means --
you get put to work! he's festively dressed, though
perhaps not necessarily for blini-making.  he made dozens upon
 dozens till the batter was finally depleted. when making
tiny pancakelets, the number of blini rises proportionally.

the last four vadai -- at one point, there were nearly 100
of them struggling to balance upon this platter.   then a late-leaving
guest dumped them all in their to-go baggie.  they were wanted and loved!

not sure if these last fried oysters are lonely or not.  you can see the
debris field left after the 60+ fried things were consumed
with alacrity.  i don't know where these final four went!

leftover broth from the cooking of the corned beef.  the meat disappeared
quickly, even by those who purport to "not care" for the viand.  we added
hotdogs for a day-after meal; it counts, right?

i don't eat cake.  i do eat lemon tart.  the crust is oil-based (rather than requiring butter)
and was remarkably crisp and tender.  the innards are a lemon custard,
made with the whole fruit.  i "managed" eric and he made it.  yeah, all gone now.

Sauce Espagnol and Beef Roast Worthy of It. Or Maybe the Other Way 'Round

the completed roast, looking burnished and smelling like juicy secrets

I made two mother sauces: brown sauce, and tomate.  Put together, they make Espagnol, the famous classic beef gravy.  It's a pain in the ass and totally worth it.

I found some in the back of the fridge, sealed tightly and preserved for a new moment of glory.  I heated it up before tasting ... and it was glorious.  I have a quart of the stuff.

Which requires the purchase of a $100 beef rib roast, which is dry aging in what in New Zealand used to be called a "safe" and what Gringa told me was referred to a "California Cooler" -- an aerated perforated cupboard in a non-insulated-to-the-outside-but-protected side of the house.  Food was put in there before the advent of refrigerators, and though many older bungalow owners don't use them, they do work nicely.  Especially for dry-aging expensive beef roasts.

I have towels just for wrapping the meat that are woven, so they don't stick to the meat and allow for aeration.  The meat gets put on a rack in a roasting pan and then is covered by another non-woven tea towel.  The whole is left out in the shady food safe (i.e. a mesh-enclosed balcony) where the air can circulate around it and take away moisture.  It doesn't rot if the temperature is cold enough and the humidity is lower; it desiccates, concentrating the minerally flavor of beef through loss of water, etc.  The roast is checked several times a day, moved, rewrapped, etc.  After about five days of this, the dried bits that look "freezer burned" are trimmed off, then the roast is baked simply.

And if ever the temperature drops or rises unkindly, or the humidity makes us nervous, the whole thing gets put in the bottom of the refrigerator to rest there quietly.  It's less effective than the food safe location, but better than not dry-aging the beef.

After the stint in the oven, the beef is finally worthy of its sauce!

one must to the honors ... even though one wishes to simply do
the flintstones move with beast on the bone

sliced thinly, it falls away and is tender, despite the fiberous appearance.
why a sauce?  partially to keep the meat slices warm.
this beef doesn't really need a sauce, but the blue
granitewear bowl full of espagnol is there, just in case.

the espagnol in the making.  off-set the burner so the foam accumulates
on one side, for easier removal, in process

bif doing the pre-roast trimming on the shell of beef -- if you cut
this into steaks, it's a rump steak (ny strip).  if the filet had remained
intact on this, then the steaks would be porterhouse