Brewing for the Masses: Always Be Prepared

Wedding beer label prototype

Ben and I are attempting to make our homebrew as non-beer-drinker-friendly as possible. We are getting married in a month (…a month from tomorrow, exactly. Holy shit.) Anyway, the plan is to craft our Matrimoni-Ale with home-grown hops and lots of love and to have enough to send everyone home with a bottle. It seems strange that we would be friends with many non-beer drinkers, but family had to be invited too, or so I was told.

There are a number of differences between homebrewed and store-bought beer, some which may frighten off the uninitiated. Par example, sometimes there is a weensy bit of bonus beer sludge at the bottom of a bottle. In my opinion, not nearly as gross as a worm in bottom of my tequila, but what do I know, I won’t eat any dead animals, in bacon form or no.

Scientifically known as "beer sludge"

When you let your homebrew sit and stew for a minute, a sizable amount of sediment settles out of it into a righteously gross sludge on the bottom. It’s composed of yeast, hop detritus and other nontoxic beer-making byproducts, but discovering a bit of this roughage in the bottom of the bottle really freaks some people out, especially if they’re used to crystal clear, ice cold, virtually tasteless, but very well-marketed American lagers. We are siphoning our beer off the yeast bed from one fermenter into another carboy a few times to have as little of this harmless but unappealing phenomenon as possible. Continue reading

Cheese-Making Part II: a Bowline, some Brine, and Abruzzese

Cheese is without a doubt my favorite food, so I was psyched when Shannon took us to the cheese-making class.  Shannon listed her take-aways yesterday, but she overlooked a few things.

  1. Cheese (according to our teacher, whose expertise, while genuine, seemed possibly inflated) predates recorded history.  The first written record is in Egyptian Hieroglyphics and recounts a traveler who filled his drinking pouch, made of animal intestine, with milk.  The jostling on his journey, combined with the rennet living in the intestines, produced curd.  Patrick declares that such an individual had to be male because only a male would simply chug milk without sniffing it and only a male would, after tasting something rather questionable, immediately seek out his friends and force it upon them.
  2. The Arabic word for cheese is “mish.”  The Arabic word for apricot is “mish mish.”  The etymology involved here intrigues the hell out of me.  It makes me think of English Wensleydale all stuffed with dried fruits.
  3. Mozzarella, when newly made and still wet, is shockingly easy to tie in knots. I’m

    The bowline, as you might remember from your BSA Field Guide, is useful because while under a heavy load it neither slips nor binds.

    talking you can tie a loop and freely pull each end in opposite directions and the cheese slides together as easily as any kind of modern rope made of pulp and plastic fibers.  Here, I have demonstrated this fact by tying a bowline, one of the classic Boy Scout knots.  Yeah, man, I still know that stuff. Continue reading

The Most Important Things I Learned in Cheese-Making Class

fresh mozz

My very first braided mozzarella knot! Not bad for a novice, eh?

Oh, Groupon—how did we ever find cheap and marginally educational weekend recreation without you? The ubiquitous discount site was where I happened upon the mozzarella cheese-making class at BrickNYC, a brick oven pizza joint in downtown Manhattan. And since I have long harbored a secret fantasy in which I own a nanny goat named Moo Goo Gai Pan and make my own fresh chevre, I decided that it was worth a try. Here are my key takeaways:

Cheese details are not for the faint of heart.
People really do not like talking about food and poop in the same sentence, especially if the connection goes beyond the most basic one. My classmates looked a little dismal at the revelation that cheese is basically bacteria poo, except for two lively young women who clearly had had the good sense to pre-party before the class began. When the question of the holes in Swiss cheese was posed to one of them, she gasped and exclaimed, “Oh! Like little farts!”

Pity the piglet.
Apparently, you can make cheese from the milk of any mammal (yes, including humans), but the only one that tastes really vile is pig cheese. I was really curious about this fact, and asked our instructor Patrick to elaborate, but he said I was just supposed to trust him. Boo. Sounds like a cop out to me. Doing a little internet research today, the most prevalent theory is that pig cheese tastes bad because they are omnivores rather than ruminants like cows and sheep. Continue reading

Kitchen Wizardry by Nancy

I used to think that my mother’s thing for kitchen gadgets had something to do with how much time and effort it took to cook dinner for a family of five, day after day, year after year, and a desire to make the process quicker and easier. There is, probably, still some truth to that theory, but after I saw the way she took to the Kindle and iPhone, another suspicion began to take shape: my mother is a gearhead. There are people out there who revel in having the right tool for the right task, and though I can’t profess to have that personality trait myself, no one epitomizes it more in the realm of cuisine than my own flesh and blood. To get a sense of what I was missing, I asked my mom, Nancy, to take some photos of her most beloved and frequently used gadgets.

wine opener

Manufacturer: Waring

Wine opener
My mother can drink you under the table, in no small measure because she can get the bottles open faster. A few years ago, I was finally coming around to the idea of one of those Rabbit corkscrews that looks like a medieval torture device, but my mother was already a step ahead. This one requires, literally, zero effort. You just put it on top of the bottle, press a button, and the cork magically and invisibly comes whirring out of the bottle. “It never breaks the corks apart,” my mother explains.

aerator

Manufacturer: Vinturi

Aerator and strainer
If ever the cork should tragically break apart, however, my mom has it covered with this contraption. You just hold it over a glass and pour red wine through it. The mesh strainer at the top catches any undesirable sediment and then the wine passes through a series of small holes so that more of it is exposed to oxygen. This eliminates the need to leave the bottle open on the counter, breathing, and, as my mom points out, enables more drinking and less waiting. Sadly, a sulfite allergy has seriously cut down on my mom’s red wine consumption, though she believes that now the same company makes one for white wine, too. “I’m not really sure why you would use that,” she said, but it didn’t sound like she was completely ruling it out.

egg timer

Manufacturer: Egg Perfect

Egg timer
Lest you think that my mom’s gadgets are limited to wine, here’s one that she claimed she used this morning for breakfast. You just pop it in the pot with the eggs you’re boiling, and it changes color to show when the eggs have arrived at soft-boiled and hard-boiled. She’s been using this for decades now, though it has been a subject of controversy. “Dad prefers to time them, and they turn out very nice,” she says slowly and diplomatically. She is saying this because my father has two culinary tricks—grilling a steak and soft-boiling an egg—and I don’t think she wants to discourage him from these tasks. Even so, she admits, lowering her voice, “I still use the timer. It’s much more predictable.” Continue reading

Puzzlum Botanica

Planting season has arrived! Are you prepared to interpret the scientific names on those seed packets? Find out by matching the Latin-looking jumble of letters below to their more common names. Speakers of Romance languages and those who can remember some high school French (Merci, Mme. Dahlberg!) will have a leg up, but even so, there are a few tricky ones…

  1. Cynara scolymus
  2. Phaseolus vulgaris
  3. Brassica oleracea (Italica group)
  4. Beta vulgaris cicla
  5. Zea mays
  6. Solanum melongena
  7. Allium sativum
  8. Capsicum annuum
  9. Cucumis melo
  10. Arachis hypogaea
  11. Ipomoea batatas
  12. Lycopersicon esculentum

Common names

  • Hot pepper
  • Green Bean
  • Corn
  • Eggplant
  • Artichoke
  • Peanut
  • Tomato
  • Melon
  • Broccoli
  • Yam
  • Garlic
  • Chard

Don’t follow this link until you’re ready to see the answers… Continue reading

Overwintered Salad Goodies

Remember that hoop house video I posted in October?  Well, I’ve come to brag and to confess.

Confession:  Winter is crazy-time work-wise, and I haven’t directly watered our hoop house greens in probably two months.  I’m a bad person.

Brag:  After getting only what water they could absorb from the soil surrounding the plot, I picked this for dinner:

That's Ragged Jack Kale, Chard, and Rocket Arugula

This came from a potential harvest big enough to make about twelve monster salads.  I’m talking full-meal salads, no side or garden numbers.

Just think what I could have pulled off if I stayed on the watering and picking.

What Puts the Key in the Lime?

key lime pieFlorida is a good place to contemplate important matters of nature like the mating habits of bottlenose dolphins (colorful) and the take-off techniques of loons (unfortunate). On a recent trip to visit my parents, I also found myself thinking about the mysterious fruit, the key lime. Even though I spent many of the Christmas vacations of my childhood throwing fish heads to pelicans on Marathon Key, I believed that key lime pie was just lime pie that you ate in the Keys. I’m not sure it fully sunk in that the key lime is actually a fruit unique from the Persian lime (also known as the gin and tonic lime, at least to me). Here are some fun key lime facts:

  1. They’re not green. Or rather, the ones you should be eating are not green. The ripe ones are bright yellow.
  2. Most of them don’t come from the keys, at least not since the 1926 hurricane that wiped out most of the lime groves of Florida. Now we get key limes from Mexico.
  3. They’re native to Southeast Asia, so I was probably eating them all the time in Cambodia in place of Persian limes without ever realizing it.
  4. They’ve been known to cause phytophotodermatitis upon contact, making human skin extra sensitive to light. No word on how long this effect lasts, but it sounds like bad news for sunburned tourists in a tropical climate.
  5. They are smaller and seedier than their Persian brethren, and their flavor is more tart and bitter.

Okay, so none of those facts make them sound terribly appealing, particularly the last two. But because they have a stronger flavor, you don’t need much juice to get a strong limey flavor, which makes them ideal for cooking.

I suspect, though, that the real reason that key limes and the pies they go into are so popular is because we associate them with sunshine and sand and Ernest Hemingway and pelicans and fish heads. They’re a vacation on a plate. I mean, look how happy this guy looks. Continue reading

Beer-Making Take II, Featuring Brita and The Bavarians

My baby is already two weeks old!

I was told beer-making was easy, and based on the Spaghetti-Os-heavy diet of the dudes who told me this, I believed it. After all, your basic beer has (or should have) only four ingredients: water, grain, hops, and yeast. This has been the basic recipe for hundreds of years. Despite our mutual distaste for following the rules, Ben and I embarked on another brewing adventure with this in mind, even as our first attempt still sat in the basement, sulkily maturing into an adolescent IPA. (They grow up so fast!)

First, of course: water. After having soundly lost the Brita vs. Tap Water battle last time, I fished the pitcher from the fridge and began the grueling process of filtering water and pouring it into the kettle. Now, I am not known for my patience…but this takes FOREVER. I’ve got to say, there really is something to be said for boiling water, like, that it sterilizes things. I’ve heard that way back in the day, before germs and public sanitation were discovered, everyone drank beer because it was safer than the water. Everyone! Or so I’ve heard — this would take far too long to actually research.

Barley: not just for horses

Next comes the grain, in our case barley. Barley is the grain of choice for most beers, rye and wheat beer being obvious exceptions. This wasn’t always the case. Before the Bavarian Purity Law of 1516, or the Reinheitsgebot (geshundheit!), laid down the literal law about what could go in beer, it was anything goes. Afterwards, only water, barley, and hops were allowed in beer. (Wild yeast fermented the concoctions, but those little guys weren’t given any credit till discovered in the 1850s.) It was less purity of the drink they were actually concerned about and more the price of bread; that is, ensuring a sizable-enough quantity of wheat and rye that they could be bought cheaply and made into affordable bread …that is, for relatively little dough (eesh, sorry). Continue reading

The Adirondacks and a Carola Bury My Grocery Store Russet

Other than the recipe for my Indian sweet potato fries, I haven’t written about potatoes yet this season.  I know it’s suppose to be Spring now, but it’s not, at least not in New York, so I’m going to jump on this oversight now before the tulips, already sprouted, get over their confusion at the climate-change weather and pop their pretty heads.

We know that potatoes “saved Europe” in that they kept the lower classes alive just well enough to keep them from rising up, in their starvation and despair, and taking out their monarchs.  We know them, thus, as a staple.  Or at least I do.  Their manipulation by the Queen drove my people to America, and for many a year they, in their fry form, were the highlight of the cafeteria.

But I ate some potatoes last week that made the standard, American Grocery Store-variety potato seem as bland as spray starch.

Healthway Farmsis a small farm in the Hudson Valley north of the city, and over the winter

Note: An old toothbrush is an excellent tool for scrubbing the dirt from your potatoes.

I’ve come to know that they grow superb spuds.  I bought three varieties from them: Adirondack Red, Adirondack Blue, and Carola.  I baked all of them with only olive oil, salt, and pepper so we could compare the taste.

Adirondack Blue:  You may have had purple fingerling potatoes.  I love them.  Shannon is “coming to like them.”  She claims they have a trace of a metallic taste to them.  The Adirondack Blue has a deeper taste than its purple fingerling cousins and none of that sharp minerality.  It’s starchier – more potato-y in its way – and holds together in your mouth.  Though it is quite different in taste from your standard Russet, its heft and density made it seem the most traditional of our lot, despite the color.  Continue reading

Sorta Kinda Chinese Tea Series Entry Three: Taro Green Milk Tea (Redux)

I decided to try Taro tea at the Dragon Land Bakery.  I don’t know what it is about Taro.  I’m afraid it really might be as simple as the color.  But I felt the need to give it a shot beyond the root-canal version of the flavor as I endured it at CoCo a few weeks back.  So I bought a Taro Green Milk Tea.

And it was a whole new world.  Whereas CoCo’s tea was an assault, Dragon Land’s was almost velvety and just a little sweet, almost the taste equivalent of the texture you get when you let butter mints dissolve on your tongue, if that makes any sense.  And while CoCoc’s taro was a Continue reading