The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

As the leaves fall down and pile up, harbinger of colder days and even colder Bostonians, there is still peace in my heart as it is finally that time of year. 

Chowder Time

So, since I actually put pen to paper while making my last batch, I offer my own take on this most wonderful of concoctions.

First get you some slab bacon or salt pork, you are going to need 1/2 cup, small dice. Toss this into your chowder pot with 4 Tbsp of butter. Low and slow is the mantra for chowder, don't burn the butter. While the pig is cooking you are going to want to dice potatoes, 2 cups worth, and boil them in lightly salted water til they are just barely tender, drain and rinse in cold water. Once most of your fat had rendered, add 1 cup diced leeks, 3/4 cup diced celery, 2 Tbsp fresh picked thyme, 3 cloves of chopped garlic. As the veggies become softer 4 oz of brandy into the pot, flame and add 1/2 cup of flour.  Mix this all about constantly stirring lest the flour scorch. Once you have everything nice and pasty, add 3 cups of clam juice, this can be the liquor from the 4 cups of chopped clams as well as bottled clam juice. Point being, 3 cups of juice by hook or by crook. Add aforementioned clams and potatoes to the pot as well as 1 tsp of cayenne. Cook low and slow still, stirring to prevent scorching.  

Once the chowder has thickened, you have the choice of what form of dairy you want to add. I strongly suggest 2 to 3 cups of light cream. Some use heavy cream while others use milk for thinner chowder. I like mine somewhere between milk and mayonnaise so I suggest the light cream. Your call.  

Lastly, taste it for salt and pepper, once again your chowder, your call.

Actually, lastly is bowling it up and liberally adding oyster crackers. Get Westminster crackers if you can find them, they are good and from Vermont which naturally makes everything better, including chefs.

Conquering the Cantaloupe

Conquering the Cantaloupe

            Every year I seek out at the height of cantaloupe season the archetypal melon, the apogee of cantaloupemanship, and eat it. I note the sweet, luscious aroma of the skin. The succulent flesh, laden with juice, passes between my lips as I attempt to savor all the nuances of this perfect specimen of C. melo melo var. cantalupensis. And every year I reach the same gastronomic conclusion - I just don’t like cantaloupe. There is one exception to my disdain for this muskmelon that we will address later in the chapter; otherwise I have no fondness or sympathy for the creature.

            We all have a cantaloupe in our lives. I’m cool with that and do not expect you to overcome your own personal cantaloupe. What I do expect you to do, if you want to become a proficient cook, is to exorcise the demon of prejudice from your palette. This is going to require a little reprogramming of your conventional mores and an awakening of your sensual self. It won’t hurt, I promise.

            First we need to examine the causes of discrimination in the human psyche. It seems many of people’s food issues can be traced back to their childhood so let’s start there. Perhaps the most common and hardest to eliminate is when it stems from learned behavior as in this hypothetical:

           
Example Only: My father never liked mushrooms, never cooked them, I don’t like mushrooms. 

             Another reason people may have disdain for certain food is from having a less than joyous experience. On my 3^rd birthday I thought my mother was making my favorite dish, her rotelle with meatballs. When I sat down it was a perfect al dente rotelle topped with her delicious marinara and…octopus. I was a bit dejected and the octopus was a bit overcooked. For many years I avoided cephalopods all together until working under Chef Steve Singleton in Knoxville where he convinced (well, ordered) me to try his sautéed calamari. I was a convert on the spot. Incidentally, cephalopods (calamari, octopus, cuttlefish) are one of the trickier dishes to prepare so be gentle with yourself if you don’t have the greatest success the first few times. Undercooked – chewy. Overcooked – chewy. I have had dishes prepared by “high end” chefs who still botch it. Don’t give up.

            Now that we are done blaming your parents let’s get back to discrimination. How many times have you heard someone say they don’t want to try something simply because they think it’s “weird” or “gross”? I have had to convince (order) plenty of cooks over the years to eat a variety of things, summing up this chapter for them in one brief and blue sentence. In a professional setting it is imperative that you develop this nonattachment, or change professions. There is no one to chastise you, aspiring gastronome that you are, when you render such a reaction. And that perhaps makes it that much more difficult. You, and you alone, must overcome the unfounded prejudice in your soul that keeps you from trying tripe, sweetbreads, or whatever your own bogey might be.

            Since this a personal undertaking, fueled only by your own desire to succeed, I can only offer some suggestions which might help you along the way.

            First, start small. Rather than go out and buy a pound of sheep’s brains and be determined to ecstatically consume them, try things that you don’t necessarily find unappealing. A dish from a favorite restaurant you just never thought about trying. If you have enjoyed most everything you have sampled before there is a good chance they will pay the same attention to the quality of this dish. Many people become set on a particular offering and rarely branch out to the rest of the menu. The “law of diminishing returns” essentially states that the more you have of something the less you enjoy it. So break the law!

            Another fun place to expand your culinary consciousness is ethnic markets. Once again, don’t go buying the most bizarre items you can find (unless you’re into that) since you may not be familiar with traditional preparation of the product. You will only do an injustice to you and the conch.  Realistically assess what you have an aptitude for doing and go from there. Maybe a salad made with some Asian vegetables you are unacquainted with or a smoothie with some funky Caribbean fruit. If you need ideas, check out the “Books I Can’t Live Without” appendices at the end of the book or visit you local library. The library is a wonderful place to explore new cuisines and cultures and, well, it’s free which makes it that much more wonderful.

            When it comes to more exotic foods though the challenge becomes greater and the trepidation more daunting.  If you are particularly suspect of eating something like eel, with all your preconceived thoughts about eel bouncing around in your head, you probably are going to have a hard time enjoying it. That’s o.k. because the first step is not necessarily to enjoy the food but rather to understand the food. The more practice you get in learning to understand the food the more likely you are to enjoy the food.

            To get the food into your mouth, except a few precepts. First, it isn’t going to kill you. Secondly, other people eat this and enjoy it. Third, you will be a better epicure for it.

            Now open mouth and take a bite. Clear your mind. Don’t squint your eyes and scrunch your nose. Chew. Think about what is going on on your palette. Breathe. Swallow.

            Not so bad. Or maybe it was. Good work in any event.

            The one cause for discrimination I have yet to determine a remedy for is that of the elusive texture issue. I do not have texture issues so I find it hard to understand them.  I do think some of it stems from improper preparation of dishes where they are under cooked or over cooked. My mother in law feels that fresh spinach “squeaks” on her teeth. She is a grown woman and I sure as heck am not going to argue with her about what she perceives. Everyone is different and to that end we all have validity in our opinions. If you have a texture issue I can only suggest buying some crazy straws and a blender.

                        My one way of enjoying cantaloupe? Thin slices of prosciutto del parma wrapped around segments of melon. The sum of this delight is greater than its parts and leads us directly into a fun filled chapter on perception. In the following pages we will get closer to understanding how to understand the elements that make up the experience that is eating.