Summer Haitus

Despite the facts that it been unseasonably cold, and that it has rained almost every day in June in the Big Apple, it is indeed summer. And summer means project time here at NYCookery. I'll be taking a cooking break for the next couple of months in order to build a shiny new website that will be the most bad ass of its kind. Expect more stories from all of those little corners of New York (and beyond) that you didn't even know existed (like Bay Ridge!) when I return.

See you in the fall...

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The Highest Quality

In case you didn't get enough of my webisode featuring John Payne and his WASP-style pasta sauce, you can also check it out the high quality of Vimeo by clicking here.

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WASP Pasta Sauce: The Recipe

Are you curious how to make this:


into this?


Wait no longer. This is the recipe for John Payne's WASP-style pasta sauce. The story behind the sauce (a webisode!) can be retrieved here and the story behind the story of making the sauce can be found here. Recipe after the jump.

John Payne's WASP-Style Pasta Sauce

Serves 6

2 tablespoons canola oil or other oil with high smoke point
1/2 sweet onion, chopped

3 cloves garlic, minced

2 cups mushrooms, sliced
1 can of Campbell's tomato soup

15 oz can peeled cherry tomatoes in juice

35 oz can of San Marzano tomatoes

1/2 cup Mediterranean olives

2 Quorn chicken cutlets

2 Veggie Burgers (Morningstar farms spicy black bean burgers are preferred by John)

1/4 cup basil, ripped
1/4 cup parsley, chopped

1 lb pasta

1/2 cup grated parmesan
Salt and pepper to taste

Heat pan over medium high heat and add oil one tablespoon oil. Add onions. Reduce flame to medium and saute until soft. Add garlic and cook until fragrant about 2 minutes. Increase heat to high and add mushrooms.

In separate skillet, heat remaining oil. Fry quorn chicken patties and veggie burgers until crispy on the outside and cooked through, about 3-4 minutes per side. Remove from heat and cut into bite-sized chunks. Set aside.

Add tomatoes, olives, and veggie meats to pot. Bring to a boil, then reduce to simmer and cover. Let cook 30 minutes. Add herbs and cook for 2-3 minutes more, or until wilted. And you saw the cooking process. Pretty standard, with the understanding that the sauce should thicken after about 30 minutes of simmering so that it becomes stew-like. Salt and pepper to taste.

After sauce has been cooking for 15 minutes, cook pasta until al dente (about 8-10 minutes).

Once sauce is thickened, and pasta cooked, spoon pasta onto plate (about one cup cooked pasta), top with sauce (to taste), and shredded cheese. Serve immediately.

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WASP Pasta Sauce: The Webisode

Welcome to NYCookery's first webisode. John Payne generously offered to make me his WASP pasta sauce - a favorite of his growing up in New England - a famous dish of his grandmother's and one of the only he actually knows how to make. For the back story on how this video came to be, click here. Watch, learn, enjoy.




Next up: the recipe.

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WASP Pasta Sauce: The Preview

Mark Annotto and John Payne met in Lewiston, Maine as undergraduates at the small liberal arts school, Bates College, where together they sang in an a capella group, played ska, and bonded while toasting hot dogs in John’s Hot Diggidy Dogger. The two—sardonic and self-deprecating—have been somewhat of a creative duo ever since. After four years in New England, they formed both the Armed and Ridiculous Brooklyn Comedy Collective and the “post-geek-synth-rock” band, Puppetbox (named as such while John sat, literally, on a trunk full of puppets during a brainstorming session).

Through Armed and Ridiculous, Mark and John created sketch comedy bits that morphed onto the screen. Their inaugural short, The Underground: NYC Ping Pong, which, Mark claims, “is one of the century’s most mystifyingly un-funny [films],” was accepted to several festivals despite his modesty about its quality. The two also created a series of semi-biographical silent shorts about the trials and travails of a 27 year-old virgin (I will not share here which of the two arrived at that age as such) told through puppets—a second place winner at the 2006 MTV Labs Desktop Film Festival.

For months, John (who shares my affinity for artistic theatrics and who has studied at the London School of Puppetry and has created his own short plays for New York’s puppet slam, PUNCH) had insisted that NYCookery would be a great show and that his friend, Mark, would be perfect for shooting webisode with his “fancy camera.”

I avoided the topic. After years as an actor and doing student films, the desire to be onscreen had been completely squelched. But then one evening not too long ago, I finally met Mark and John for some beers and, over a basket of popcorn, the two talked enthusiastically about the possibility of a creating a cooking video. Their excitement about the project began to tickle my interest.

However, there was only one problem: since Mark had to do the filming, that meant John had to do the cooking. As it turns out, John does not cook (he said something along the lines of, “I know how to make a mean omelet. Well, I used to. I mean I haven’t made one for a long time, but I’m good at it. That and sandwiches.”) But he had an idea—he could make his grandma’s famous pasta sauce. "Great!" I thought. "Everyone loves a good pasta sauce!" Then he told me the secret ingredient: Campbell’s Tomato Soup. As in the stuff in the can. That orangey goo that comes out in clumps.

My eyes widened. Mark averted his gaze and stuffed his face with some popcorn. Then, sheepishly and in defiance of his Italian heritage, he told me that he had eaten it, and that it was “actually really tasty.” I looked back at John, who smelling my fear like a shark does blood in water, said, “I’m not telling you what else I put in there.”

God knows what they slipped in my drink, but I said yes.

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Aspic a la Argentine: The Recipe

As we lifted our forks to enjoy our aspic, Veronica stated, "this is a great summery thing." True that, Veronica. Paired with a salad, this vegetarian take on a meaty French tradition will be a great compliment to the hot weather ahead of us. Don't let the ingredients list intimidate you; though there are many components, this aspic is actually relatively simple to prepare.

(For part one of this story click here, and for part two, here.)

Leandro Carbonell's Vegetarian Aspic
2 large carrots, peeled, cut in half, and sliced into 1/3" pieces
2 tablespoons dried chives rehydrated in 2 tablespoons water, then drained
1/2 lb cottage cheese
4 oz whipped cream cheese
1 oz Roquefort cheese
2 tablespoons pecorino romano, grated
3 tablespoons chopped Italian parsley
1/2 tablespoons celery seeds, crushed
1 teaspoon olive oil
1 can heart of palm, stalks cut in half
1/2 teaspoon hung lui (optional)
2 large celery stalks, sliced thin
1/2 teaspoon lemongrass powder
4 ounces plus one teaspoon agar agar powder
7 cups water
3 slices dark German rye
Salt
Pepper

Boil 2 1/2 cups water. Once rolling, add two ounces agar agar powder. Stir well until dissolved. Add hot liquid into 9X5 metal mold or loaf pan until it reaches a depth of 1/8" or 1/4" (thickness of the jello is entirely to taste). Place in refrigerator.

While agar agar hardness, steam peeled and sliced carrots until fork tender (about 5-6 minutes). Once steamed, shock in an ice bath. Set aside.

In a bowl mix together cottage cheese, whipped cream cheese, Roquefort, and pecorino romano until smooth. Add chopped parsley, rehydrated chives, celery seeds, olive oil, hung lui (if using), and 1/2 teaspoon agar agar powder to the cheese mix. Stir well and then season with salt and pepper.

Boil 1 1/4 cups water. Add one ounce agar agar powder and stir until powder is dissolved. Add 1 cup of the liquid to the cheese mixture, mixing well. Place in refrigerator.

Once the agar agar in the mold is solidified, layer sliced carrots over it until completely covered, slicing carrots as necessary to fill the pan in one even layer (see picture).


Layer heart of palm over the carrots in one even layer.


Remove cheese mixture from refrigerator and spread over vegetables.


Cover cheese mix with two thinly-sliced celery stalks, 1/2 teaspoon lemon grass powder, and pinch of salt.


Cover the entire cheese mixture with German rye.

Ensure that the entire aspic is covered with one even layer of bread. To do this, place one slice of bread at one end of the pan and another at the other end. Cut a third piece of bread to fit in the gap between the two slices, making a snug bottom crust.


In a pot prepare 1 1/4 cups water and one ounce agar agar powder until powder is dissolved. Spoon agar agar over the bread until entirely covered by the liquid, about one cup.


Refrigerate over night. Before serving boil remaining two cups water and pour into a large baking dish. Place pan bread-side up into the boiling water and run a knife around the edge to loosen the aspic.


Cover the aspic with a platter. Hold the edges of the platter and the pan tightly and flip over. The aspic should come out whole.

Cut aspic into 1" slices and serve.

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Aspic a la Argentine: Part II

This is part two of this series. For part one, click here.

We inspected the "silicon boob" that was Leandro's agar agar experiment. The disc was opalescent, silky to the touch, and shone like a jewel in the light of the setting sun. Unexpectedly, I had an intense urge to take a bite out of the pearly gelatin, but I fought it off -- soon enough I would know what it tasted like. Leandro returned the wobbly disc to its bowl, and then got to work removing the finished aspic from its metal mold (which he needed for the next aspic he was about to make).

He poured about an inch of boiling water into a large, shallow baking dish and then placed the pan into it. Then, he ran a knife along the periphery of the aspic to ensure that it would not stick to the sides. While he did this he told me about Argentinian cuisine "The point of [Argentinian] food is about...its freshness. There is no real Argentinian menu - it's pretty much a mix of European stuff: Spanish, French, German." A culinary combination that is reflective of the country’s rainbow of immigrants and settlers.

"Now we just have to find a platter that will fit this," Leandro said as he flung about tupperware, bowls, and other kitchen detritus while searching through his cabinets for the right plate. Finally, he settled on a rectangular steel tray. "Too bad this thing is so ugly, the aspic would look better on white." Leandro covered the aspic with the tray and quickly flipped it over.


It was a perfect terrine. "The more colored the food, the more visually engaging the dish," Leandro said as he placed the aspic into the freezer to firm it up. With the metal mold now free, he began to make a second dish. He started by steaming the carrots until they were soft and boiling a "finger" of water. While the water heated, Leandro rehydrated dried shallots and expertly sliced celery stalks, garlic, and heart of palm.

Once at a rolling boil, Leandro added agar agar powder to the water and stirred until it was dissolved. He then poured about 1/4" of the liquid into the metal mold, and let the gelatin firm up in the fridge. While he did this, I lifted the hot lid to check on the steaming carrots, burning my hand. "I think these are done," I told Leandro as I sucked my index finger. To comfort myself in my wounded state, I decided to pet the cat, Whootie. It immediately hissed and scratched my other hand. Typical. I retreated to a corner of the kitchen away from felines and heat sources.

Leandro checked on the carrots –- lifting the lid with no resulting injury –- and indicated that they were not cooked to his liking. "I am going to try to pair the consistency of the palm hearts to the consistency of the carrots. This thing is so delicate and I need to serve it to other people, so I'd rather not have to fight it when I cut it. Basically, I'm going to kill those carrots."

"Ah, so, basically if you had no teeth, you'd be able to chew this."

"Exactly."

He mixed together some creamed cheese and cottage cheese, then stirred in crumbled bits of stinky Roquefort. "My friend he said once that the only thing he would save from a burning house is the cheese. [Roquefort is] overwhelming, though, so we’re just going to give it a touch. Little shavings." He added pecorino romano, salt, olive oil, and seasonings (including something called hung liu) to the dairy mix. I found a spoon and dipped it into the white cheesy sauce. It was salty and fragrant. My hopes for the aspic lifted.

Meanwhile the agar agar in the fridge had solidified, so Leandro layered the carrots (which he had shocked in an ice bath after steaming) and then the palms on over it and the cheese mixture over that.


The last step was topping the whole thing off with German Rye and more agar agar.


Once that was finished, Leandro put the final product in the refrigerator, and removed the de-panned aspic from the freezer. He sliced it into perfect one-inch slices, then plated them. Veronica entered into the kitchen as we snapped pictures of the Leandro's creation.


"Oooh! That looks beautiful!" she exclaimed, "but - wait - the jello has no taste? What's the point of that?" Acting as though I actually knew something about aspic, I explained to Veronica that the dish was very popular in the late 19th century through the mid 20th century; however, this clearly was not a direct answer to her question. After some extensive research (uh, Wikipedia) I discovered, that people had been making and eating aspic since Medieval times. Like many age-old techniques aspic most likely first was eaten as a way to use up every part of the animal -- the gelatinous broth left over from boiling particularly bony pieces of meat (knuckles, heads) would be cooled and then jelled. With the help of the culinary genius of the French, aspic was clarified and used to create the type of terrine that I was about to eat.

As Leandro plated aspic for the four of us, we got into a conversation of good and gross foods. Brains, menudo, and most organs tipped the nasty scales for Veronica and I, but Leandro seems to love all of it. "Argentinians eat anything," Veronica explained, "especially if it's from a cow. I'll go there with [Leandro] and his mom will be like 'Eat this!' And I'll go 'I'm not exactly sure what this is. And why does it taste like balls?' But that's just me...no, most of the stuff she makes is really, really good."


We headed into the living room and sat cross-legged around the coffee table in the couple's small living room. As we lifted our forks Leandro's mother called and left a long message in Spanish -- almost as though she could sense we were about to eat the dish that she had advised Leandro how to make.

We all took a bite. The jello was flavorless and as Leandro later suggested, a little too thick on top, but the filling was totally delicious. Each of the flavors passed subtly over our palates and the distinct tastes -- hints of lemongrass, bitter celery, salty pecorino, pungent Roquefort, and briny heart of palm -- slowly emerged as I chewed.

Mao, the married pair's other cat (the one that suffers from "itchy cat syndrome" and has to be on cat anti-depressants)came over as I was eating and rubbed against my leg. "She likes everything," Veronica indicated and told me that I could give her a bite of aspic. I held out a small nibble. Mao gobbled it up, then purred, as though asking for more. Following the cat's example, I did the same.

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