Long Weekend

It's Columbus Day weekend, a holiday much loved by federal government employees and, I believe, Italians. I forget why, but I remember something about it on the Sopranos.

Saturday is market day, and I decided I wanted to roast a chicken, or some chicken parts. I bought potatoes, carrots and garlic at the green market, and then, on what was an unseasonably warm day in the WC, I headed up to the Greek supermarket, where I got some chicken legs and thighs.

I looked around for an interesting recipe, and found this one. I haven't roasted garlic in a long time, but I hadn't forgotten how much I love it. I used smoked paprika instead of the herbs called for, and I made pan gravy with flour, butter, white wine and chicken stock after removing the chicken, garlic  and vegetables. The results were very satisfying. It took about 20 minutes longer than the recipe suggests (it calls for boneless breasts) but I brought my meat thermometer with me, so I pulled it out of the oven as soon as it hit 165 degrees.

Yesterday, I wondered if you could make risotto with brown rice. I was on a bit of a whole grain kick before leaving, and had grown fond of a grain I rejected long ago when my parents brought some home from the food co-op. Mark Bittman told me everything I needed to know, and I made a version with pancetta and spinach. I crisped up the pancetta and set it aside; sauteed an onion and a cup of parboiled rice in the fat and some olive oil, and then added the crumbled bacon, some parmesan and chopped spinach after the rice had absorbed enough chicken stock to be ready for consumption.

Piperade

Last Saturday, the red peppers were in, and everyone was buying sacks of them to make ajvar. When I came upon this situation 15 years ago in Skopje, I decided to buy one pepper to see what all the fuss was about, and the seller treated me with disdain: "One pepper," she sneered, taking a break from doling out orders of multiple kilograms.

My friend's father used to always ask me to tell that story when we came over to her house for dinner: he never failed to be amused by the idea of buying a single pepper.

So, mindful of this transgression, I bought half a dozen last Saturday, along with a kilo of tomatoes. Nobody said a word and I returned home with my dignity intact.

Except I forgot about them, and yesterday I found myself with an abundance of vegetables in the fridge that weren't getting any younger; so I decided to make some piperade. I had planned to serve it alonsgide some lamb chops or chicken, but the weather was so miserable yesterday that I spent the day indoors, and chose instead, to serve it over boiled potatoes. I'll do the same tonight with the leftovers, over rice or pasta, and this site has lots of other idea.

Piperade

Peel and dice six tomatoes (take off the stem, cut an X in the other side, put them in boiling water for ten seconds, and then into a bowl of ice water. When they have cooled, the skins can be easily pulled off). Heat some olive oil in a pan, and add some prosciutto, chopped. When it has crisped up, remove it with a slotted spoon and reserve. Add 2 medium onions, chopped and saute until they are translucent. Add 2 cloves of garlic, minced, 2 tbs smoked paprika, a pinch of red pepper flakes and 3 red peppers, diced. Add prosciutto, salt and tomatoes (you could use canned and no-one would notice). Simmer for ten minutes.

German Potato Salad in a Belgrade Refrigerator

One of my favorite things to do is to turn misfit items in the refrigerator into something delicious. Half the time it turns into something delicious, though sometimes it doesn't go so well, and others it produces results that can best be described as "interesting." Nevertheless. I don't care; I love it.

I had about ten small to midsize potatoes in the fridge, as well as 4 strips of pancetta and a spring onion that, if it didn't get used this weekend, was getting binned, as the Economist would say.

So I thought of German potato salad. I found a good recipe on Epicurious, and modified it to fit what I had on hand.  Here is the original recipe. My extra crispy version is below. I will say that the pancetta didn't leave enough fat for frying the onions, and 2 or 3 more slices would have made it even better. But that would have required a trip to the market and violated the rules of the game.

German Potato Salad in a Belgrade Refrigerator

Cut 8 potatoes into bite size pieces and boil until done. While the potatoes are cooking, fry 4 slices pancetta. While the bacon is cooking, combine 1/2 cup white vinegar, 1/2 cup water, 2 tsp mustard, 2 tsp sugar, 2 tsp salt, 1/2 tsp. pepper. Take bacon out of the pan and set on a paper towel. Add a pat of butter to pan and saute onion for 5 minutes over medium heat.

Add vinegar mixture to pan and cook until reduced by half. Remove from heat. Add potatoes and let sit until mixture is warm, but not hot (it was 10 mins for me). Top with crumbled bacon and one spring onion, chopped. Season with salt and pepper. Admire clean fridge.

Smokin' That Tuna, Serbian Style

I wrote last month about my visit to the Mercator, Slovenia's answer to Whole Foods. One of the things I found there was smoked salmon, from Montenegro. It was more or less the same as the smoked salmon I buy from time to time at the Harris Teeter, which is to say, delicious.

I was thinking about getting some more last week, when I saw this package in the same display case. Smoked tuna, I thought. That's weird. It sounds delicious, and yet I've never seen it before. Let's give it a try. The packet, which had four thin slices, was about 400 dinars--4 bucks.

I wasn't sure what I was going to do  with it, but I was thinking of pasta.  I had a couple of very ripe tomatoes and some fresh fettucine in the fridge, so I decided on a garlic and oil inspired pasta salad.

When I opened the package, I noticed that information on the back was written in all of the EU languages. It must be from Italy, I thought. It sounds like something an Italian would do. But then I thought about all my visits to Italy and Italian restaurant meals: I couldn't recall ever seeing smoked tuna on the menu. I looked at the label more closely and there it was: "proizvod od Srbija"--smoked tuna from landlocked Serbia. Hmm. Here goes nothing.

  I cooked the pasta, reserving a cup of the cooking water, doused the noodles in cold water, and put them in the fridge. Then I sauteed 4 minced cloves of garlic in about 1/3 cup of olive oil, adding a generous pinch of red pepper flakes for the last thirty seconds. I added the reserved pasta water and cooked the mix for about 5 minutes, until the water was about half gone. I tossed the sauce with the pasta, the diced tomatoes and some shredded parmesan, along with the tuna, which I chopped into bite-size pieces, and some lemon juice.

The result was very nice, even better for breakfast this morning--I hadn't allowed it to cool sufficiently last night . The smoked tuna was everything that you would expect from a Serbian smoked tuna, which is to say, not much. But I bet I buy it again. I wish I had bought some parsley at the farmers market, where it is plentiful. Maybe next time.

Ljubenica

I had a watermelon and feta salad at Watts grocery a couple of summers ago, and really enjoyed it. The ljubenica (watermelons) are in season here now, and I've been having a slice with breakfast every morning. Born in Africa, introduced to Europe by the Moors in the 13th century, according to Wikipedia, they are sweeter than the Harris Teeter variety, with more seeds.

Last night, I decided to try a similar take on pasta salad. I cooked some tortellini*  and when it was done, ran it under cold water and put it in the fridge. Then I crumbled some blue cheese into a bowl, and added a couple of slices of watermelon, cut into cubes, seeds removed. I mixed a little olive oil and red wine vinegar together, and then tossed it with the pasta, fruit and cheese. Sprinkled some salt and pepper on top, and put it back in the fridge for about 20 minutes.

The saltiness of the blue cheese blends very nicely with the sweetness of the watermelon and the acidity of the vinegar. I wish I had my herb garden at hand, as I would have liked to sprinkle some chopped fresh mint over it, but I'm not complaining. I'm looking forward to my lunch of leftovers. I bet it's even better today.

* My tortellini was stuffed with prosciutto. I don't think cheese tortellini would complement the blue cheese. I'd probably use something like rotini next time, but this is what I had.

Gnocchi in Parmesan Cream Sauce with Smoked Salmon and Baby Spinach

One thing there is no shortage of in the WC is gnocchi--usually made from potatoes. I forgot to check if it is local, but even the mini-markets stock it. I've made it twice now, and, having just polished off Saturday night's leftovers for lunch today, I have the urge to share.

I knew that I was going to cook it Saturday night, but wan't sure how. Then I remembered all of the baby spinach I had in the fridge (50 cents will get you 300 grams at the market, and 300 grams is a lot more spinach than you would expect) and I was also intrigued by a small piece of smoked salmon from Montenegro that I had bought that day at the Super Vero, the big Greek supermarket that is about 15 minutes walk from my apartment.

While the water was boiling, I made a roux out of equal parts butter and flour (about 2 tbs, I'm guessing). I actually sauteed a couple of cloves of minced garlic for a minute in the butter before I added the flour. I cooked the roux over low heat for about five minutes and then I added enough of the long-life milk that my predecessors had left to fill the pan. I whisked it together, and after about 5 minutes simmer, I threw in a bunch of chopped spinach, the smoked salmon cut into morsels, and a good quantity of red pepper flakes. Two minutes later I took the pan off the heat and stirred in a handful of shaved parmesan. I tossed that with the gnocchi, and it was dinner time.

Hot Prshut

There is no shortage of pork in the WC, and one of the readily available products is a cured, thinly sliced ham called prshut, which bears a remarkable resemblance to its Italian cousin, the more vowel-laden prosciutto.  I've been using it quite a bit to season pasta and risotto dishes, and have been quite pleased with the results.

Similar to prshut, but a little more bacon like, is pancetta, which is also widely avilable, although it doesn't seem to have a Serbian name (though Wikipedia claims it is also indigenous to Croatia and Slovenia), so it may come from the other side of the Adriatic.

The former occupiers of my apartment had left a tin of anchovies, and I made a delicious sauce for ravioli the other night by crisping up the pancetta in a frying pan, sauteeing some chopped garlic in olive oil for a minute or two, adding the anchovies, and then returning the crumbled pancetta to the sauce after the anchovies had melted away. It was very nice.

Too much pork for just one fork, won't you pass that apple pie?

Goop

I wrote a couple of days ago about the pros and cons of the local cevapi. Last night, I experimented with a Balkan take on one of my personal favorites, a dish that nobody else in the family really likes, and my brother once dismissed as "goop."

I'm a beans and rice guy. I love risotto, red beans and rice, jamaican rice and peas, and I've tried endless variations. I always keep cans of black, white, kidney and refried beans in the cupboard, and I even added blackeye peas to the arsenal when we moved down south.

I am allowed to use the PX here (the American grocery store at the embassy) although I don't think I will. It's inconvenient to get to, and into, and I can't see wanting for anything. Maybe I'll crave a pint of Ben and Jerry's, but I doubt it.

Which is a long way of leading up to the fact that the former tenants of my apartment left a few things behind, including a jar of Tostitos salsa, which I'm sure came from the PX. The aformentioned goop is basically a pot of cooked rice, with some sliced chorizo, a can of refried beans, cheese, salsa and sour cream mixed in. I tried it last night with the cevapchichi subbing for the chorizo, some local white cheese (similar to edam), a can of white beans and Frito-Lay's best salsa. The results were good. As I suspected, the local sausages did a nice job complementing and soaking up the flavors of the dish.

I don't think we'll be seeing a Slav-Mex restaurant anytime soon, although, who knows, there may already be one in Belgrade. I asked one of my colleagues about a nearby Chinese restaurant, and he said that "Serbian Chinese food is different." That sounds interesting.

Cevapchichi

In Skopje, sometimes we would go for lunch in the old city. One of the most reliably good choices was a chevapi place, which sold small grilled sausages, which were served with bread and minced onions, with a small bowl of hot paprika on the side. They didn't blow your mind the way a gyro in Athens, dripping with tzatziki, or a bratwurst in Vienna, swaddled in black bread and mustard, or other similar street foods do--I could ramble on awhile here--but they were pretty damn tasty, as AJ would say. Apparently,  they are all over southeastern Europe, and the name is etymologically related to the Turkish "kebab," which is familiar to everyone,

Belgrade also has its chevapi, although they are called chevapchichi here. They are a little larger than the Macedonian version, and, sadly, they don't seem to have much in the way of flavor. One recipe I found suggests onion, garlic and salt, and that sounds about right.

The quality of the meat, though, seems pretty good. I brought home a half kilo from the supermarket last night, and pan-fried a few of them until they had a nice crust on the outside. With a little mustard, they were pretty good, and I think they have promise as an ingredient in pastas, rice dishes and stir fries. We will see.

Oregano Surplus

The breakout stars of my garden have been the thyme, rosemary and oregano; not surprising given the provencal-like character of our weather.

No complaints, except that the oregano is threatening to take over the space, and I need to figure out a way to use pesto-like quantities, rather than the couple of tablespoons I put in spaghetti sauce.

I found, as one can for virtually any idea one thinks of as original, a promising recipe for oregano pesto, which called for 2 cups of leaves. Now we're cooking, I thought. I'll whip up a batch and everyone will love it, especially the BG, who is a pesto fiend. And I'll plant some more if need be.

Sadly it wasn't very good. The oregano has a strong taste that just didn't work. It was palatable thanks to copious quantities of cheese, oil and nuts but definitely not a repeat. BG suggests going half and half with the basil and oregano, but I am not optimistic.

Any ideas?

Deconstructed Gumbo

I made a family friendly gumbo the other night. I served it over a choice of rice or barley (OG likes plain rice, BG does not), made it with vegetarian stock (BG is vegetarian) and cooked the meat separately (OG likes plain meat). My only failure was that stir frying the chicken and sausage together made the chicken taste funny to the OG, so she eschewed where she should have chewed.

It was leftover celery that made me think of this, and the recipe is inspired by the chicken gumbo in the Joy, which calls for chicken on the bone and andouille sausage.

Deconstructed Vegetarian Chicken Gumbo

Drop two chorizos in boiling water. Boil for one minute, take off the heat, cover and let stand for 15 minutes in the cooking water.

Add 1/4 cup of vegetable oil and 1/4 cup flour to a large pot and cook over low heat for 4-6 minutes, until reddish-brown. Remove from heat and stir in 1 onion, 4 stems of celery and a green pepper, diced into equal size pieces, and 2 tsp. paprika, 1 1/2 tsp. salt, a generous pinch of cayenne and 1 tsp. garlic powder. Whisk in 4 cups of vegetable stock and simmer for 10 minutes.

While the pot is simmering, cut the sausage into slices and stir fry it along with two boneless 2 chicken breasts, cut into strips, for about 5-8 minutes, until the chicken is cooked through.

Puree the soup with an immersion blender (or a regular one) until it reaches the desired consistency (I went a little too far and would have preferred a few more vegetables, rather than the puree I got). Serve alongside the meat and starch for combining as you prefer.

Chasing Dan Dan

With Worldwide and the OG off to see the Peace University (Go Pacers!) production of Into the Woods last night, the BG and I had another crack at Dan Dan noodles. I made a vegetarian version (with stir fry chicken on the side for me) of a recipe attributed to Jamie Oliver, and it was pretty close to the rendition at Gourmet Kingdom (where the BG and I enjoyed lunch on Monday). I think a little minced ginger in the spice mixture would make this perfect, and I'll let you know after we try it. Either way, it was tasty and dead easy. The black vinegar was the only thing not usually in our pantry (until now) and it made a big difference.

Mix 4 cloves of garlic, minced, 3 tbs soy sauce, 1 tsp. ground black pepper, 2 tbs black vinegar and 3 tbs chili paste. Reserve

Cook noodles and rinse with cold water. Add to serving bowl, and moisten with vegetable stock (I used about 1/2 cup), heated. Add spice mix and 2 spring onions, chopped.

Udon Noodles

One of the best ways that new dishes come into our house is when one of the Gs asked me to make something that they had at a friend's house, or that looked particularly tasty in someone else's lunch box. This not only gives me a chance to make them happy with food, but it's much easier to introduce something new if it has the imprimatur of approval from a trusted friend.

About a month ago, the BG asked me to make udon noodles. I was familar with them only from Anthony Bourdain's account of his adventures in Tokyo in Kitchen Confidential, but I said that I'd look for them.

I found them in the International section at the Harris Teeter; wheat noodles lighter than pasta, but more substantial than the lo mein-type noodles I'm used to in Asian cuisine. I followed the recipe on the package, omitting chicken and substituting carrots for the cabbage, and the results were enjoyed by nearly all.

They are remarkably easy to make, and now part of the regular line-up. We'll also be supplementing our Asian menu with Alton Brown's Dan Dan noodles tonight, which the BG requested after trying them at the Gourmet Kingdom, last month, which is the first truly excellent Chinese restaurant I've ever been to. The Teeter did not have the Black Vinegar called for in the recipe, but luckily there is an Asian market just around the corner.

Udon Noodles
Drop a package of noodles into boiling water and cook for 4 minutes. Rinse with cold water after removing from pot. Meanwhile, saute 2 carrots and an onion, minced in a food processor, in olive oil for a couple of minutes. Add the noodles and a bunch of spring onions, chopped, dress with a little soy sauce, salt and pepper and heat through. Serve.

Update
The Alton Brown version of Dan Dan noodles was too peanutty and not spicy enough. I have another couple of recipes to try, and if any are decent, I'll share. I also am now the proud owner of a litre of black vinegar. Any other ideas of what I might use it for?

Quick and Easy Pasta II

I've blogged before about how pasta with spinach, blue cheese and toasted nuts is a frequent visitor to our table. Eyeing a bag of fresh spinach getting ready to turn to crime, I decided to make it last night. But the chunk of blue cheese in the fridge was smaller than I had imagined.

Figuring that mozzarella would stretch the cheese component without interfering with the flavour, I altered the recipe to include equal parts mozzarella and blue cheese. I also sauteed a couple of cloves of garlic, and I cooked a little bacon on the side (for the OG, and to crumble over the pasta, which was otherwise vegetarian, and, hey, you never know, this might be the night the BG decides to try it--it wasn't).

The result was even better than the original. Blue cheese does not melt very well (mozzarella excels) and the combination gave the sauce a silkier texture. The garlic helped too, I think, as well as the bacon, but I'm quite certain that combining the two types of cheese is a legitimate difference maker.

Now I've amended two of the few recipes that I've posted (cookies was the other). So try this at your peril. No doubt there's a better way on the horizon.

When You're Ready for More Cookies...

I wrote earlier this month about my variation on Alton Brown's chocolate chip cookie, and today, as we get back into the grind after two days off (the holiday plus a teacher development day yesterday) I tried another one of his recommendations, and the poetry of it is so perfect that I thought I would share it.

The basic idea is that, rather than putting the last sheet of cookies into the oven, you put them into the freezer. The next day, you can take them off the parchment and put them in a plastic bag for later use. When you're ready for more cookies (don't you just love the way that sounds?) take the bag out of the freezer and arrange the cookies on a sheet.

Put the sheet in the oven and set it to 375. The cookies will thaw while the oven heats up and then cook as normal, so the total time is whatever time it takes to preheat your oven (ours helpfully beeps when it hits the desired temp) plus 10 minutes for the baking.

The elegance of this recipe speaks to me, and I'm also keen to try making mini-batches in the toaster oven. But for today, the Gs came downstairs to the smell of freshly baked (though pre-made) cookies. Recompense for the Song of the Day, which channeled the BG's beloved Taylor Swift:

I knew you were sleeping when I walked in,
And that's just wrong.
I need you to get up out of your bed,
So heed my song:

Cookie Retraction

After our Thanksgiving trip to Madison, I got to thinking that I should share some of my whole grain recipes with the Lonesome Stone community, both as an attempt to improve the social media component of the company and maybe to get a few more ideas about what to do with all that whole grain flour in the cupboard.

So last week I posted my chocolate chip cookie recipe, which is basically the recipe on the back of the Ghirardelli bag, substituting whole wheat flour for half of the white flour, and chilling the dough for an hour in the refrigerator before baking.

But I have to retract everything, because I've found a better recipe. For Christmas, Brother in Law Bobby Digital had given me a copy of Alton Brown's "I'm Just Here for More Food," a complement to "I'm Just Here for the Food," which he had given me as a Christmas present in 2004, I believe. I very much enjoyed the latter book's scientific approach to cooking, and eagerly sought out the author's television show, where I sensed that the charm of his prose did not translate very well to TV, where I found him rather annoying and tiresome.

So the new book is about baking, and Brown does a good job of explaining why measuring and technique in baking is far more important than it is in cooking, which is perhaps the reason why my projects in the dessert round have been generally less successful than the others.

He also explains that, most cookies are made using the "creaming method," where fat and sugar are blended together, followed by eggs and then the dry goods. This process creates a fine texture, and is familiar to anyone who has ever baked a cake.

In contrast, the "muffin method" involves mixing all of the wet and dry ingredients separately, and then quickly combining the two without overmixing:

Since bubbles are not created during mixing (as they are with creaming) the bubbles blown by the leavening are haphazardous and varied in size.

This technique will be familiar to anyone who is serious about their pancakes.

Although all of the other cookie recipes in the book are in the "Creaming Method" chapter, the chocolate chip variety are in the "Muffin Method" section, and I decided to try them on Friday. The batter was a little drier than I'm used to, and I tried to handle it as little as possible, simply dropping globs of it from an ice cream scoop onto a parchment lined baking sheet.

I have to say that the results made my earlier cookies look like hockey pucks by comparison. The appearance was more of a moonscape than I'm used to, but the balance of fat, flour and sugar was absolutely perfect, and every bite was "toothsome," a word that I don't really understand, but which seems perfect in this sentence. I even rolled out a few at the end into perfect balls, just to test the effect of overmixing, and the results were not nearly as textured, or as good, as the ones I had just dropped on the sheet.

Try it yourself and see. Brown says that you really should weigh ingredients, rather than measure them, and if this recipe is any indication, you better listen to the man. The only difference in my recipe is the whole grain flour.

Chocolate Chip Cookies.

Preheat oven to 375.

Combine 2 1/4 cups of whole wheat and all purpose flour (in equal portions) with  a teaspoon each of baking soda and salt. Pulse  for 5 seconds in a food processor.

In a separate bowl, combine 3/4 cup sugar, 3/4 cup brown sugar, 2 sticks of butter (melted and slightly cooled), 2 egg yolks, beaten and 1 tsp of vanilla extract.

Add dry ingredients to wet, along with 2 cups of chocolate chips and stir until just combined. DO NOT OVERMIX!

Drop golf ball size portions onto a parchment lined baking sheet (I used an ice cream scoop, but the cookies were too big, and I'll try a tablespoon next time).  Bake for 13-15 minutes until golden brown on top. Let cool for 2 minutes on baking sheet and then transfer to rack to cool completely.

Kitchen Gadgets

On a couple of occasions when we lived in DC I found myself stuck in the midst of a home improvement project. A trip to Strosniders or a visit from an expert usually revealed the existence of a hitherto unknown tool that was perfect for the job. The problem is that my "seat wrench" for example, hasn't been used in over a decade, and the acquisition of these bespoke tools on an "as needed" basis, in addition to being a poor investment, has space and storage constraints. This is equally true in the kitchen, and, atypically, I love kitchen gadgets considerably more than power tools.

About ten years ago, we were having lunch in the pretty town of Port Townsend, WA. The BG was napping in her stroller, so, while Worldwide finished her sandwich. the OG and I visited a kitchen store across the street. I was admiring a "turkey lifter," a sort of double-fork contraption designed for lifting big birds out of the roasting pan. Seeing me admiring the tool, the sales clerk came over to offer assistance: "That is a great tool for lifting turkeys." she said. "Yes." I replied, "but I'm not sure how often I'd have need of it."

"It is a bit of a unitasker." she admitted. For awhile thereafter, the OG was keenly interested in identifying single-use tools in the kitchen, and I became mindful of their actual necessity. A coffee maker and popcorn popper? OK. But a melon baller? C'mon.

The thing is that, despite myself, I still love those unitaskers, and this year, I hit on the perfect compromise: if I get them as gifts, I get to have them free of the guilt that accompanies their purchase.

So, mindful of my wishlist this year, the Gs went into our local Williams Sonoma and asked an associate where they could find unitaskers. Apparently the clerk initially claimed that the store didn't stock such things, or that he didn't understand what the girls were talking about,  but after a consultation with a co-worker, he led them over to an Aladdin's cave of garlic presses, shrimp deveiners, mango slicers and the like. After careful consideration, the Gs selected a strawberry huller, which I was delighted to find under the tree, and even more delighted to use as I packed their lunches this morning. So unnecessary, but so much better than my previous methods, usually a paring knife or a plastic straw .

The bottom line is that a unitasker should be something that you need frequently in order to merit a place in the cupboard; but it's so much fun to contemplate the depths of human ingenuity, and to know that should the need for a cherry pitter arise...

Rib Roast

Last Sunday we organized a potluck dinner for 28.  I managed the hors d'oeuvres (all prepared in advance) but the star of the production, a 12-pound rib roast was a same day project, to be prepared in the unfamiliar confines of a kitchen away from home.

After a little internet research suggested that I have the butcher trim excess fat (leaving a nice layer on top) and then cut the meat away from the rib bones, almost all the way to what I would call the sternum (but which I now know is the chine bone), and then tie up the roast.

I strode confidently (okay a trifle nervously) up to the meat counter at Harris Teeter, where Angus Rib Roast was on sale for $7.99 a pound, a full six bucks cheaper than Whole Foods. "I need a twelve pound rib roast." I told the butcher. He told me that he had one, and that if I continued shopping, he's have it ready for me in a half-hour. "You'll cut it and tie it?" I asked, hoping that I had the terminology right. "You bet." he told me. "That sucker will slide right off the bone."

A half hour later, I had my roast, and, after transporting it to Potomac on ice, I set out to prepare it on Sunday morning for our afternoon dinner. I made a paste out of water and ice cream salt, and used some of it to line the bottom of a large roast pan. I then rubbed the roast with Worcestershire sauce and covered it with more salt. I attached a thermometer to the roast and slid it into the oven, budgeting about 4 1/2 hours to cook. When the temperature hit 130, I pulled the roast out of the oven and went to fetch a hammer to bust the crust.

After the roast had rested for thirty minutes, I pried off the salt crust (it came loose easily), transferred the meat to a cutting board, and began slicing it with my electric knife. All worries about failure vanished, as I tasted the meat: it was perfectly cooked, and mouth-wateringly juicy.

I packed up the leftovers and, when we got home, I made some stock from the rib bones, reserving the meat for later use. Last night, after the Long Island City Crew had left, I made a sort of beef bourguignon by making a roux from bacon fat and whole wheat flour (we had run out of all purpose flour, and nobody noticed the difference), sauteeing some onion and garlic and adding a glass of red wine, which I cooked until I could no longer smell alcohol in the fumes. I added the stock, along with two potatoes and a couple of handfuls of baby carrots, all diced into one inch or so pieces. When the potatoes and carrots were nearly cooked, I added the beef, and then I finished the stew by thickening it with a paste of cornstarch and water. The result was delicious; not as good as the roast, but a good use of what might otherwise have been tossed.

Anyway, here's the recipe. It's just the thing for a big crowd.

Rib Roast with a Salt Crust
In a bowl stir together 6 cups salt and 1 cup water until the mixture forms a slightly stiff paste. Rub a 12 pound roast with 1/2 cup of worcestershire sauce and arrange the roast, fat side up, in a roasting pan. Coat it completely with the salt mixture, patting the mixture on about 1/4 inch thick.Roast the beef in the middle of a preheated oven 325°F. oven for 2 hours (about 22 minutes per pound), or until it registers 130°F. on a meat thermometer for medium-rare meat. Transfer the beef to a cutting board and let it stand for 30 minutes. Remove the crust with a hammer and carve the meat.

I served two sauces with the meat. The first was a mixture of sour cream, horseradish, chives and lemon juice. The second was a jus, made by reducing 8 ounces of red wine and a sprig of rosemary and 2 cloves of garlic by half and then adding an equal amount of beef stock, reducing the mixture again by half. When I finished it didn't taste right, so I added a couple of teaspoons of sugar and that seemed to make it palatable. I still wasn't happy, but Worldwide said it was good, so I guess it worked out ok. I used the last of the horseradish cream sauce to make twice-baked potatoes the other night, which garnered an enthusiastic response from the BG.

Potluck Menu Planning

I bought the rib roast for Sunday's Secret Santa Potluck yesterday; it's cut and tied and ready for roasting, which I'll do under a salt crust. Twelve beautiful pounds! I'll also decide tomorrow what sauces to make--I'm leaning toward a red wine jus and something with a horseradish base.

To supplement the promised offerings thus far (salad, bread, polenta, beer, squash casserole, sweet potatoes. fresh fruit), I've been working on hors d'oeuvres and desserts over the last two days. Here's what I've got so far:

• Whipped feta with roasted red pepper;
• Celery stuffed with blue cheese dip and walnuts;
• Cheese ball;
• Vegetable potstickers with 2 dipping sauces;
• Baba Ghanoush
• Tzatziki with crudites;
• Peanut butter cookies;
• Mint chocolate chip cookies;

Both cookie recipes use 1/2 whole wheat flour. I'll make one more dessert item tomorrow, and possibly purchase another vegetable for the dinner. We are also planning, in the BG's honor (and G Hel's I suppose) a pickle plate. The other dishes are all from the Joy, except for one of the dipping sauces, which is from my girl, Nigella.

My Secret Santa gift is nearly complete. I just need to buy yet another cartridge for our printer. This time it's cyan. I have decided to start buying them in twos, so that we are never off-colour. We always seem to be one short of a full spectrum.

Master Cookie Recipe

For Thanksgiving in Wisconsin, the theme was local and sustainable food, so we brought some artisan bourbon from Asheville, and I made peanut brittle with local groundnuts. It was my first time, and it went pretty well, although cutting it up did yield a small container of bits and pieces too small for serving, I saved them, thinking that they would mix well with vanilla ice cream (they did), but last week I had the idea of making peanut butter cookies with brittle chips.

I've never made a peanut butter cookie with any "wow" factor--they have always been solid but unspectacular. In leafing through my beloved Joy, I came across their "Master Cookie Recipe," which included a peanut butter variety, so I decided to try it, replacing half of the flour with whole wheat product from Lonesome Stone.

As I was stirring in the brittle, I realized that I had overlooked any baking powder or soda. I went back to the recipe, and to my great surprise, neither was called for. This made me nervous, but I decided to trust the Beckers and proceed as directed.

The results were incredible; a a chewiness from the wheat flour balanced against a peanutty taste and a nice crunch from the brittle. Even the OG--nigh impossible to impress--weighed in positively.

I made the version with chocolate and cinnamon this week, and after Worldwide tasted the first batch, her faint praise spurred me to stir in some chocolate chips, which produced the cookie I'd hoped for.

I'm not sure about the other versions (marble, lemon butter, lemon poppy seed, orange butter, orange-nut, coconut, ginger, butterscotch, spice and raisin)). but I think I may try the peanut version with chopped up peanut butter cups, which we usually have on hand. But try it. You'll be amazed at the toothsome result.

Master Cookie Recipe
Beat on medium speed until well blended: 2 sticks butter, 1/2 tsp. salt and 1 cup of superfine sugar (or regular sugar processed for 30 seconds in a food processor). Add and beat until blended 1 egg yolk; then 1 whole egg and 2 tsp. vanilla. Add  1 1/4 cups all purpose flour and 1 1/4 cups whole wheat flour and beat on low until just combined.

Refrigerate dough for an hour, then roll tablespoonfuls into balls and press onto parchment lined sheets into 1/4 inch thick disks with the bottom of a drinking glass dipped in flour. Bake 6-8 minutes in a 375 degree oven.

Note: The peanut butter version includes 2/3 cup of peanut butter with the butter, sugar and salt, and I stirred in about a cup of brittle bits at the very end. The Chocolate cinnamon variation adds 1 ounce of melted unsweetened chocolate to the butter and 1/4 tsp of ground cinnamon to the flour. I then stirred about a cup of chocolate chips in at the end.