Absence

It’s been too long since my last post. Though the pull of blogging is very strong, sometimes other things have to come first. I knew I would be away for a couple of weeks for a vacation to Italy, but what I didn’t plan on was having to take additional time to grieve the loss of my best friend. We had to say goodbye to our beloved German shorthaired pointer Julia the day after we returned from our trip. She had a large tumor hidden in her chest beside her heart. She was only twelve, and we had her since she was just seven weeks old. For a while I couldn’t cook—everything was too salty, seasoned with tears.

RIP Julia.

Thankfully, things have been looking up again. I accepted a new teaching position, and I’ve been loving every minute of it. Of course adjusting to a new job was just another thing keeping me away from this space. But now I’m beginning to feel inspired and ready to get back to writing about my adventures in food again.

So stay tuned. I have posts about fooding in Italy planned and new pasta recipes to share. I also have some new baking and pastry recipes in the works that I’m certain you’ll enjoy.

Speaking of recipes, the fall issue of Cooking Club magazine is out. Check out the "Weeknight Cook" column (on page 54) for Creamy Stovetop Mac and Cheese with Cauliflower, Spicy Szechuan Pork Chow Mein, Southwestern Patty Melts, Thai Shrimp and Rice Noodle Soup, and Braised Chicken with Lemon and Olives recipes by yours truly.

And now for a quick cooking class update. The fall Clark College class schedule is out. Seafood Primer was an overwhelming success and Classic Deli Soups is coming up soon. Please join me in the kitchen!

Also, please tune into Flavors radio show at noon PT on Sunday, December 21 to hear hosts Greg and Marleen chat with me about Marinades.

Current event listings can always be found in the Cooking Classes, Book Signings & Appearances sidebar on the right.

I’d like to leave you with an idea for cooking with fall wild mushrooms. Hubby and I went mushroom hunting last weekend. It was a bittersweet experience—bitter because exploring the woods was one of Julia’s favorite things to do and we missed her terribly, sweet because we hit the jackpot. We found loads of chanterelles.

And lobster mushrooms.

If you are like us and have more chanterelles and lobster mushrooms than you know what to do with, try sautéing them and folding them into some fettuccini with Alfredo Sauce. It’s luxurious yet easy, and it really allows the shrooms to be the star.

Frying a Better Razor Clam

Hubby would not be discouraged by previous unsuccessful clamming expeditions. And his perseverance finally paid off this spring.

It took him only an hour to reach the legal limit of 15 clams.

If I wasn’t so busy working on my next cookbook Marinades, I would’ve gone with him and bagged another 15 in no time at all.

The usual way to prepare razor clams is to coat them whole in breadcrumbs or cracker crumbs and then pan-fry them, like this. It’s quite delicious. But after trying it, I reasoned that deep-fried clams would be even more delicious. Clams have a tendency to be chewy no matter how expertly they’re cooked, and submerging them completely in hot fat would minimize the cooking time, thereby lessening any chance they’d get tough. Cutting the clams into strips would further ensure tenderness. But it would also expose a lot more surface area, and that much breading would have been heavy and overwhelmed the clam meat. Switching to a light flour coating would create a nice balance of clam to crust. Finally, adding a bit of cornstarch to the flour would make for a super-crisp coating. All that reasoning proved to be correct—the result was the best fried clams ever, even if I do say so myself.

But before I get to the recipe, Flavored Butters continues to get positive mentions in the press. I have to thank Food Republic for endorsing it and featuring the Caramelized Onion Butter, the Red Chile Butter, and the Caviar Butter. Thanks to Mommypage for the interview about the book and BND.com for featuring the Tarragon Butter. I’m ever so grateful to The Spokesman-Review for calling the book a “mouth-watering gem” and featuring the Bed & Breakfast Butter. And finally, thanks to Mother Earth Living for sharing the lessons on how to form a log of butter and how to shape compound butter and featuring the Gorgonzola-Chive Butter, the Radish Butter, and the Whipped Vanilla Bean Butter. I love that so many are getting on the butter bandwagon—it feels amazing!

Deep-Fried Razor Clam Strips with Buffalo Dipping Sauce
Printable Recipe

3 tablespoons mayonnaise
2 teaspoons Tabasco sauce
¼ teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
¾ cup all-purpose flour
2 tablespoons cornstarch
½ teaspoon paprika
½ teaspoon granulated garlic
¼ teaspoon onion powder
Generous pinch celery seeds, ground
Generous pinch cayenne pepper
Kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper
Canola oil, for frying
5 razor clams, cleaned, rinsed, patted dry, and cut into 3/8-inch wide pieces

Blend together the mayonnaise, Tabasco, and Worcestershire in a small bowl and refrigerate.

Whisk together the flour, cornstarch, paprika, granulated garlic, onion powder, celery seed, cayenne, and a generous pinch of salt and pepper in a large, shallow dish. Add enough oil to a large, heavy pot to come to a depth of 3 inches. Heat the oil to 375°F. Meanwhile, add the clams to the flour mixture and toss to coat, separating any pieces that stick together. Shaking off any excess flour mixture, add the clams to the oil and fry, stirring occasionally, for 1 to 2 minutes, or until golden brown. Using a skimmer, remove to a paper towel-lined plate and immediately season to taste with salt. Arrange the clams on individual plates and serve immediately with the buffalo dipping sauce.

Serves 2. When frying, be sure to use a pot that's large enough to accommodate the displacement of the oil from the clams and also the bubbling of the oil. Serve with Classic Coleslaw and corn on the cob or fries.

Opposites Attract and Chanterelles

They say opposites attract. I believe it. In fact, I think my husband and I prove it. We couldn’t be any more different. He’s left brained and analytical. I’m a creative type and completely right brained. He’s practical, and my head’s always in the clouds. He’s quiet, and I chat endlessly. We don’t have any hobbies in common either. I’m a bookworm and love to shop, which he barely tolerates. He prefers sporty outdoor activities, activities which have often resulted in bodily injury (including one concussion) to me. It can be hard for us to find ways to spend time together.

But there is one thing we’re equally passionate about: foraging for mushrooms.

We both get excited when the fall weather comes, bringing with it the chanterelles. We both eagerly anticipate the thrill of the hunt, and we both fantasize about the size of our haul and the delicacies we will cook with it. The long drive into the woods, the bushwhacking in the cold rain, and the scouring of every inch of forest floor are things that we both enjoy. And of course, we both absolutely love the part where we devour the mushrooms. Now that’s what I call “quality” time together.

Chanterelle Ragu
Printable Recipe

¼ cup extra virgin olive oil
2 pounds chanterelles, diced
4 slices bacon, diced
1 yellow onion, diced
3 stalks celery, diced
1 large carrot, diced
4 cloves garlic, minced
2 tablespoons tomato paste
¼ cup white wine
1 cup milk
1 14 ½-ounce can diced tomatoes
1 cup chicken broth
1 bay leaf
Generous pinch freshly grated nutmeg
Freshly ground black pepper
Kosher salt

Heat a large, heavy pot over high heat until very hot but not smoking. Add the oil and swirl to coat the bottom of the pot. Add a third of the chanterelles and sauté for 5 to 6 minutes, or until tender. Using a slotted spoon, remove the chanterelles to a plate. Sauté the remaining chanterelles in the same manner and set aside. Reduce the heat to medium-low, add the bacon to the pot, and fry, tossing frequently, for 10 to 12 minutes, or until rendered. Add the onion and sauté for 5 to 6 minutes, or until soft. Add the celery and carrot and sauté for another 5 to 6 minutes, or until soft. Add the garlic and tomato paste and sauté 2 to 3 minutes more, or until fragrant. Add the wine and simmer for a minute or so, scraping up the brown bits from the bottom of the pan with a heat-proof spatula. Return the chanterelles to the pot and add the milk in thirds, simmering for 2 to 3 minutes, or until nearly dry, after each addition. Add the tomatoes, broth, bay leaf, nutmeg, and a generous pinch of pepper. Bring to a boil and simmer for about an hour, or until thickened and saucy and the flavors come together. Discard the bay leaf and season to taste with salt and pepper.

Makes enough for 8 to 10 portions of pasta or polenta, which absolutely must be topped with plenty of grated Parmegiano-Reggiano. If you want to go all out, use this to make Lasagna Bolognese. When working with chanterelles, I usually prefer to tear them into bite-size pieces, but I chose to dice them here so that the texture of the finished ragu would more closely resemble Ragu Bolognese.

Ono

It's Hawaiian for delicious. Isn't it a fun word?

Hubby and I just had our tenth anniversary, and we celebrated in ono style with a trip to Maui. During our short seven days there, we toured almost every part of the island and managed to consume more tropical fruit than we had had during the entirety our marriage.

In a macadamia nutshell, the food on Maui is pork, beef, and fresh fish—especially mahi-mahi and ahi tuna—with Asian flavors and lots of tropical fruit. Steamed rice and creamy but bland macaroni salad (possibly heavier on the mayo than the macaroni) seem to accompany every meal, including breakfast. A selection of noodle dishes appears on most menus. The fruity adult beverages are to die for. Oh, and Spam is ubiquitous, but we didn't feel the need to delve quite that deep into the culture.

Our first meal, at the local favorite Da Kitchen, was an enormous traditional Hawaiian "plate lunch" consisting of succulent and salty shredded kalua pig, pork lau lau, lomi-lomi salmon (more fun words!), brothy ginger-scented chicken long rice, and two scoops of rice.


We also tried a plate lunch with kalbi short ribs at Aloha Mixed Plate as we eavesdropped on the luau next door. By the way, I gather this sort of combination is referred to as a plate lunch even if it's eaten for dinner. We never did get around to tasting the poi, though we did see a number of taro ponds. As tasty as the plate lunches were, when you plan on spending the majority of your waking hours in a bathing suit, it seems prudent to partake in lighter fare…

And so, this was the first vacation the hubby and I actually spent more time on activities other than fooding.


We floated in the waves and snorkeled with the colorful fish and the graceful, curious sea turtles. We bird watched, and we were endlessly amused by the riot of birds in constant motion around the fragrant guava tree behind our hotel room. We explored the black sand beach.


And the surrounding cliffs, with their curious vegetation.


We drove the winding road through lush tropical jungle to Hana.


And marveled along the way at the beauty of the eucalyptus trees.


We pulled over to the side of the road to feel the texture of their rainbow bark.


To prove to ourselves they were for real.


We watched the expert surfers, wind surfers, and kite boarders from the beach (as we enjoyed an ahi poke picnic), but we thought the waves would be bigger.


We took in the views from above the clouds on the moon-like summit of Haleakala.


We daydreamed about the freedom of sailing the high seas.


We gazed at the sunset.


We gazed…


And we gazed…


And we gazed…


Still, being that we are who we are, we must seek out edible activities for our travels not to feel incomplete. Every farmers market—apparently a single roadside fruit stand constitutes a "farmers market" on Maui—warranted a visit, no matter how tiny or out of the way.


We picked up macadamia nuts still in the shell, yellow-skinned lilikoi—that's passion fruit and yet another fun-to-say Hawaiian word—for the bargain price of four for $1, mangoes sweeter than honey, and a juicy, just this side of cloying pineapple.


Three-bite, complexly flavored apple bananas were the norm.


In fact, I don't remember seeing a single "regular" banana while we were there. Coconuts were whacked open to order.


Cups of coconut water were free for the asking.


Addictive coconut chips, sold as coconut candy, were available in either sweet or spicy varieties at the quirky stand on the road to Hana.


The loaded coconut trees everywhere prompted my husband, with his ever inquisitive mind, to ask, "How many people die from coconut strikes each year?" There was also a small amount of foraging, as we passed wild guava and avocado trees in the jungle. Hubby wondered if they were growing wild or wildly growing. There was trespassing too as I tried to get a glimpse of the pineapple fields.


Apparently pineapple thieves are a big problem on Maui. Hubby yelled at me, insisting I obey the signs, but as you can see, I took my chances in order to watch the harvest.


One of the highlights of the trip was our visit to the isolated Ono Organic Farms. We were greeted by a lovely spread and the even lovelier news that it would be a private tour.


We did a tasting of all of the fruits that were in season, and we strolled the farm until a tropical deluge forced us back under the cover of the porch.


Between the farm itself and their roadside stand in Hana, we tasted fibrous mamey sapote, low acid pineapple, star fruit, star apple, white and strawberry guavas, both wild and sweet lilikoi, strawberry papaya, a new-to-me variety of juicy avocado, rambutan, longan, dragon fruit, pink and white pomelo, Apple banana (to our extreme disappointment, the Ice Cream bananas were not yet ripe), macadamia nuts, sour cucumber-shaped bilimbi, spicy Surinam cherries, peanut butter fruit, which tastes just like the name implies, and ripe coffee berries.


The guava was a revelation. We couldn't get enough of the lilikoi, but the star fruit was disappointing as I'd had better before.


I couldn't bring myself to like the papaya even though it was by far the best quality specimen I'd ever tasted.


Strangely, it smelled a lot like funky cheese to me.


On the tour, we saw many of the things we had experienced during the tasting and then some. We discovered that papayas grow in a very orderly columnar fashion and that, though they are easy to confuse from a distance, guava is a tree and lilikoi is a vine. Banana flowers and "hands" of bananas were quite sight.


Who knew sugar cane was so colorful?


We saw jackfruit (from which Juicy Fruit gum gets its flavor) as big as watermelons and softball-size breadfruit on the tree. If falling coconuts are a problem, imagine what a risk jackfruit and breadfruit strikes must be! We admired the broad, deeply veined leaves of a turmeric plant. Then our tour guide had us take a whiff of one particularly nondescript looking tree and guess what it was. I said cinnamon, and she exclaimed that I was the first ever to correctly identify it. I bet she says that to everyone because the aroma was unmistakable. We saw macadamia nuts and cashews growing and learned that macs must be dried in the sun before they can be extricated from their shells and cashews are poisonous unless heat-processed correctly. Most fascinating were the cacao pods, which mature from brown to pale blue-green to yellow and sprout directly from the trunk and branches of the tree.


Unfortunately I couldn't convince our tour guide to break into a cacao pod or even sell me one for less than $40—that's about $1 per seed, but we did get to try previously cleaned raw cacao seeds, which tasted remarkably like chocolate. It was fascinating, and if I ever find myself in Maui again, I'm going back to Ono.

In case you're wondering, the lighter fare that I spoke of we found at the small, out-of-the-way Star Noodle. The homemade ramen at this modern Asian-inspired restaurant hit the spot so well that we returned there for two more meals to sample the other offerings: tempura colossal prawns, steamed pork buns, sous vide rib-eye, roasted Brussels sprouts with bacon and kimchee puree, garlic noodles, malasadas, and the outrageously ono tropical fruit saketinis. The best part was that only locals and in-the-know tourists would ever find this place.

Also memorable and definitely worthy of mention were the guri guri, a frozen novelty in pineapple and strawberry flavors with a texture that's somewhere between that of sherbet and shaved ice, at Tasaka Guri Guri (70 E Kaahumanu Avenue, Kahului, 808-871-4513), the refreshing shaved ice with homemade fruit syrups—made right, not grainy and crunchy like a snow cone—at Ululani's Hawaiian Shave Ice, the truly ono tropical fruit sorbets at Ono Gelato, and the locally made furikake potato chips I picked up at TJ's Warehouse Outlet.

We returned home a little tanner, a little more relaxed, and a carved wood tiki salt and pepper shaker set heavier. And though we're suffering from tropical fruit withdrawal (going from four lilikoi to zero per day is a severe shock to the system), we are full of ono memories of our time in Maui and looking forward to the adventures the next ten years together will bring.

First Chanterelles of the Season

My husband has developed what can only be described as a sixth sense for mushrooms. Somehow, he knows exactly when and where to look. He said it was time to go hunting. But the weather seemed too warm, and the fog hadn't set in yet. I was certain that the sun was too direct, I was convinced that the ground was too dry. I questioned him. I second-guessed him. I doubted him. Until he led me right to them.


The first chanterelles of the season. This time, I was all too happy to admit he was right.

Despite my husband's keen mushroom hunting intuition, chanterelles are still a rare treat for us. So whenever we find some, we pull out all the stops and make something very special with them. This time it was delicate ravioli.


But before I get to the recipe, here's my interview on the Lonely Gourmet in case you missed it. We chatted about my cookbook and the finer points of searing. So much fun!

Chanterelle Ravioli with Sage Brown Butter
Printable Recipe

2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
¾ pound chanterelles, torn into bite-size pieces
1 clove garlic, minced
8 ounces ricotta
1 ½ ounces grated Parmegiano-Reggiano, plus more for serving
1 large egg
Generous pinch freshly grated nutmeg
Kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper
1 recipe Fresh Egg Pasta dough, cut into sixths
6 ounces (1 ½ sticks) unsalted butter, diced
¼ cup fresh sage leaves

Heat a large, heavy sauté pan over medium-high heat until hot but not smoking. Add the oil and swirl to coat the bottom of the pan. Add the chanterelles and sauté for 6 to 7 minutes, or until tender. Add the garlic and sauté for another 1 to 2 minutes, or until fragrant. Let cool.

Combine the chanterelles, ricotta, Parmegiano, egg, and nutmeg in a food processor and pulse until smooth. Season to taste with salt and pepper.

Sheet and form just 1 or 2 pieces of the pasta dough at a time according to the recipe, sheeting it until the second-to-last narrowest setting of the rollers and using 1 teaspoon of filling per ravioli. As you work, arrange the ravioli in a single layer on lightly floured parchment-lined baking trays.

Heat a small, heavy saucepan over medium heat until very hot but not smoking. Add the butter and cook, stirring constantly, for 5 to 6 minutes, or until browned. Add the sage and a generous pinch of pepper and cook, stirring constantly, for about 1 minute, or until the sage is crisp. Remove the pan from the heat and dip the bottom into an ice water bath for a second or two.

Meanwhile, cook the ravioli in 2 or 3 batches in a large pot of boiling, salted water, stirring occasionally, for 3 to 4 minutes, or until they are al dente. When the ravioli are al dente, using a wire skimmer, transfer them from the pot to a large bowl, drizzle with a bit of the brown butter, and gently toss to coat. Arrange on individual plates, drizzle with the remaining brown butter, top with plenty of Parmegiano, and serve immediately.

Makes approximately 7 dozen 1 ½-inch ravioli, serving 6 as a main course. This was the ravioli plaque used. Speed the cooking time by using two large pots of water for boiling the ravioli. Uncooked ravioli may be frozen in a single layer on a parchment-lined baking tray and transferred to a zip-top bag when frozen solid. Ravioli keep for several weeks frozen. Add them to boiling water while still frozen—there's no need to thaw them, just increase their cooking time by a couple of minutes. Keep scraps of dough leftover from cutting ravioli to put in soup.

Huckleberry Picking

It's gotta be hard to make a living if you're a bear. Just imagine being a 250-pound black bear with nothing to eat in the summertime but huckleberries—it would take forever to get full. No wonder they do nothing but eat all day. The hubby and I went huckleberry picking for the first time ever last Sunday, and we gave up in less than three hours. We were hot and tired, our backs hurt, we were covered in bug bites, and all we had to show for our labors was barely a pound and a quarter of berries. If we were bears, we would be poor, skinny bears indeed.


But seriously, our trip to the Sawtooth Berry Fields, in the Indian Heaven Wilderness in the shadow of Mt. Adams, was fantastic, and I must say our haul of wild huckleberries has inspired me to get baking! Huckleberries may be tiny, but they pack a ton of flavor. And since they aren't particularly juicy, they don't sog out baked goods. They're everything a blueberry wishes it could be. I'd only ever had them once or twice before, but now that I know, I'm using huckleberries wherever blueberries are called for—huckleberry muffins, huckleberry pancakes, huckleberry waffles…you get the idea. I'm actually thinking that the huckleberry may be the one berry best suited to baking. Hmmm, better to test that hypothesis…


Huckleberry Teacake
Printable Recipe

5 ounces (1 ¼ sticks) unsalted butter, at room temperature, plus more for greasing the pan
9 ounces cake flour
½ teaspoon baking powder
½ teaspoon baking soda
¼ teaspoon fine sea salt
10 ounces sugar
3 large eggs, at room temperature
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
8 ounces sour cream, at room temperature
6 ounces huckleberries
Powdered sugar, for dusting

Preheat the oven to 350ºF. Butter a 9×3-inch round cheesecake pan, line the bottom of the pan with parchment paper, and butter the parchment. Sift together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt.

In a mixer fitted with a paddle attachment, beat together the butter and sugar on high for 3 to 4 minutes, or until light and fluffy. Beat in the eggs one at a time until thoroughly combined and then beat in the vanilla extract. Add 1/3 of the flour mixture, then ½ of the sour cream, then 1/3 of the flour mixture, then the remaining ½ of the sour cream, and then the remaining 1/3 of the flour mixture, mixing on low for only a few seconds after each addition until just combined, and stopping the mixer once or twice to scrape down the sides of the bowl. Gently fold in the huckleberries. Do not overmix. Transfer to the cake pan and spread evenly. Bake for 50 to 55 minutes, or until the edges of the cake start to shrink away from the pan and a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean. Let the cake cool in the pan for about 10 minutes. Transfer to a cooling rack and finish cooling completely. Dust with plenty of powdered sugar, cut into portions, and serve.

Makes 1 9-inch cake, serving 8. Huckleberries have a short summer season. Small blueberries make a fine substitute if huckleberries are unavailable. If you can get your hands on it, use Tahitian vanilla, which has a uniquely floral character. Use a springform pan if you don't have a cheesecake pan.

Mother Lode

It's what the first forty-niners must've felt like, "I've hit the mother lode!" All right under my feet and free for the taking. At the first sighting a of a precious, precious morel, I squatted down, not to rise again until my thighs were on fire. Before I could drop that first mushroom into my bag, I spotted another, and another, and another…My pulse quickened, I became giddy with excitement. Suddenly I was afraid to move for fear of trampling them. They were all around me!


Our previous morel hunts had varying degrees of success. We'd find onesies and twosies, but never anything like this. This time we collected well over two pounds of morels in just a couple of hours. Seared Rib-Eye Steaks & Steamed Asparagus with Morel Cream Sauce seemed like the perfect way to celebrate our haul. We stopped at a local market for steaks, asparagus, and wine and discovered that they were charging forty dollars a pound for morels. Boy, did I feel rich!


The morels we ate that night hardly made a dent in our stash. Here's how we made another dent…


Morel Risotto
Printable Recipe

1 ¼ quarts chicken broth
2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
6 ounces morel mushrooms, sliced into bite size pieces
1 shallot, minced
1 ¼ cups Arborio, Carnaroli, or Vialone Nano rice
¼ cup white wine
1 sprig thyme
2 tablespoons heavy cream, optional
¼ cup grated Parmegiano-Reggiano
Kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper

Bring the broth to a simmer in a medium saucepan. Heat a large, heavy sauté pan over medium-high heat until very hot but not smoking. Add the oil and butter and swirl to coat the bottom of the pan. Add the morels and sauté for 2 to 3 minutes, or until soft. Add the shallot and sauté for another 1 to 2 minutes, or until soft. Add the rice and stir until coated with the oil. Add the wine and simmer, stirring constantly, for 1 to 2 minutes, or until almost dry. Add enough hot broth to cover the rice by about half an inch, and simmer over medium heat, stirring almost constantly and adding more broth as necessary any time the rice looks dry, for 15 to 16 minutes, or until the rice is nearly cooked through. Stir in the cream, if desired, and simmer for another 2 to 3 minutes, or until the rice is cooked through. Discard the thyme sprig. Stir in the Parmegiano, season to taste with salt and pepper, and serve immediately.

Serves 4. Fresh morels only appear in the spring, so make the most of their fleeting season while you can. The trick to cooking perfect risotto is to stir constantly and add only the amount of broth that the rice can absorb by the time it is cooked through. You can add plenty of broth at the beginning, but to ensure that the risotto doesn’t end up soupy, add just a ladleful at a time toward the end of the cooking time. When the risotto is done, it should be creamy and the grains of rice should still retain some chew, much like al dente pasta.