Crab Cakes: More Affordable Doesn’t Have to Mean Less Delicious

by Trish

Great crab cakes aren’t rocket science. This isn’t the territory of complicated ingredients or difficult techniques; the secret to great crab cakes is just to chock them full of crab. The only problem with this method is it’s expensive, especially if you’re planning on making them for more than 2 people.

Luckily, you can bulk up your cakes without having to settle for an inferior finished product, as long as you choose the right ingredients. The recipe I like comes from Mark Bittman, who can always be counted on for balance and reason. He cuts the crab with grated celery root, delivering twice as many cakes without washing out the flavor of the seafood star of the show. The celery root also makes the cakes seem more substantial and texturally interesting, in my opinion.

If you’ve never worked with celery root before, it’s the ugly looking, knobby bulb that sometimes goes by the name celeriac. It has a vague celery flavor, but not so much that I would have picked it up if “celery” wasn’t in its name.

To peel, cut off the rooty bottom so that you have a flat surface to stand it up on. Then, using a chef’s knife, cut the outside off in strips, working from top to bottom. This recipe calls for it to be grated, which is an easy task if your food processor has a grating attachment but can also be done on a box grater. Like most root vegetables, it will turn brown when exposed to the air, so don’t peel it too far in advance of use. 

And if you are serving these crab cakes to friends, remember it’s all how you sell it. If anyone raises an eyebrow to celery root in their crab cake, don’t admit you’re a cheapskate. Rather, you are an individual concerned with ocean sustainability and committed to consuming less - purely noble reasons. But I’m pretty sure after they try them, no one will be complaining. 

Affordable and Responsible Crab Cakes

This recipe makes four massive cakes suitable for two gluttons (which was the direction I went), but you could easily make them bite sized for hors d’ oeuvres. I served it with an unconventional choice of chipotle mayo, but it would be fancier with a nice remoulade. A squeeze of lemon is all it really needs, though.   

  •  8 oz fresh lump crab meat, picked over for cartilage and shell
  •  1 small celery root (1/2 lb - 3/4 lb), peeled and grated
  •  1 egg, lightly beaten
  •  2-3 tbsp bread crumbs, preferably homemade (white or whole grain)
  •  1 cup flour
  •  Salt and pepper
  •  2 tsp curry powder (optional)
  •  1/4 cup vegetable oil
  •  Lemon wedges, for serving
  1. Mix the crab, celery root, egg, and a light sprinkle of salt and pepper in a bowl.
  2. Add 2 tbsp bread crumbs and mix just until combined, adding another tbsp of crumbs if the mixture seems very loose.
  3.  Place mixture in the fridge, covered, for at least 30 minutes or up to several hours. 
  4. Mix curry powder and flour and put on a plate or shallow dish. 
  5. Heat oil in large skillet over medium heat. While the oil is heating, form cakes. They should be 1 inch thick and whatever diameter you fancy.
  6. Dredge the cakes lightly in flour and sprinkle with salt and pepper. 
  7. When the oil is hot and shimmery, fry the cakes gently, working in batches to avoid crowding the pan. Cook about 5 minutes per side, turning once when a golden crust has formed. 
  8.  Serve warm with lemon wedges.

Celery root pictures courtesy Gourmet and World Community Cookbook.  

I Like My Kimchi Like My Music, Full Of Funk

by Trish

Kimchi: a polarizing pickle. There was a time in my life when if stranded on a desert island with only kimchi, I would have starved to death rather than eat it. Then for many years I was simply indifferent. Everything changed one fateful evening in June.

We’d had a thoroughly frustrating drive to Montreal and, after finally arriving at 1 am, wanted nothing more than a cold one. We plopped down in a booth at Big In Japan and tried to order a couple pints of Sapporo, but were informed that they wouldn’t sell us beer unless we both ordered some food as well. We weren’t hungry, but were too lazy to relocate. We ordered a couple of dishes and grumbled to ourselves about what a strange place this French-speaking province was. (I later learned this wasn’t the restaurant’s policy, in Quebec there are different categories of liquor licenses and a restaurant, as opposed to a bar, can only sell alcohol if it accompanies a meal.)

But when the food arrived, we stopped grumbling. The pork buns were wonderful, the fried chicken sandwich even better. But the kimchi, the free kimchi that came with them, was the star. It was salty and really spicy, crunchy and almost effervescent in texture. I had never known kimchi like this. With a big mug of Sapporo, it was the world’s most perfect food pairing. And that’s how Montreal’s silly liquor licensing laws introduced me to my new favorite snack.

The kimchi of my past, often found in Korean restaurants, the stuff that’s limp and sour, isn’t how it’s supposed to be. It’s supposed to be balanced - a balance of salty, spicy, sour, and funk. Funk is the fermented kick that lends an almost effervescent quality to the kimchi, and to me, brings it to the next level. Young kimchi is like young wine, edible, but not nearly as fun as the old stuff. A little extra time in the fridge lends more character and will reward your patience. You’ll know you’re in for a treat when the jar gives off a good gaseous fizz when you open it.

Once you have it in your fridge you’re in for a whole new world of kimchi fried rice, kimchi quesadillas, kimchi straight out of the jar for a midnight snack… It’s stupidly cheap and stupidly easy to make. So check out Big in Japan if you’re in Montreal, but rest assured you can have kimchi that’s just as good at home.

Kimchi

I found the courage to make kimchi after reading a recipe from the wonderful David Lebovitz. You’ll need to source Korean chili powder and chili paste from an Asian or Korean market, but it’s not too difficult to find. Korean chili powder is very coarse in texture.

Day 1

  • 1 big head Napa cabbage (about 2 lbs.)
  • 2 tbsp coarse salt (I used Kosher salt)
  1. Remove the layer of thick, outer leaves from the cabbage and cut in half lengthwise.
  2. Cut cabbage into 2 inch pieces. I start at the top and worked my way toward the core, removing the core when you reach it. (I found leaving the core intact rather than cutting it out first helps keep it together while chopping.)
  3. In a big bowl, combine the cabbage pieces and salt. Mix well to make sure the salt is evenly distributed.
  4. Transfer the cabbage to a non-reactive colander, placed inside a bowl. Put a plate on top with something to weigh it down, such as a heavy can. Let sit for 24 hours, occasionally pouring out any water that accumulates in the bowl.
Day 2
  • 1 tbsp very-finely minced or freshly grated garlic
  • 1/2 tbsp very-finely minced or grated fresh ginger
  • 1/3 cup white rice vinegar
  • 3 tbsp Korean chili pepper paste (gochujang)
  • 2 tbsp Korean chili powder (gokchu garu)
  • 1 bunch green onions (scallions), cut into 2 inch pieces
  1. Mix the garlic, ginger, rice vinegar, chili pepper paste, and chili powder in a large bowl.
  2. Squeeze any excess water out of the cabbage and add to the mixture. Add green onions and mix thoroughly so that each piece of cabbage is coated. (I do this with my bare hands, but gloves would be a good idea.)
  3. Transfer to a jar, let sit at room temperature for 1-3 days depending on how funky you like it. Chill in the fridge for an additional 4 days. After 4 days in the fridge it’s ready to eat, but will last almost indefinitely.
  4. Enjoy!

Chicken Pot Pie: Need I Say More?

by Trish

Ask anyone when the the last time they had a homemade savory pie and I’d venture the answer would be a very, very long time. Sadly, even the stuff you get from the neighborhood pub is usually straight from the freezer. It’s not entirely surprising, chicken pot pie certainly isn’t the worst option in the freezer aisle, and it beats rolling pastry. But if you find yourself on a Saturday afternoon with lots of ambition and even more time, making the stuff from scratch will provide you with perhaps the most satisfying meal of all time, and then days of leftovers that are just as good. 

This is my favorite recipe because it has lots of vegetables you might not generally see in a pie, big pieces of roast chicken, and saffron in the sauce. It is a lot of work, but every step is worth it. If you want to cut corners on anything, you can use frozen puff pastry instead of making your own. This is a great dish to treat your friends to, pretty much everyone loves it and you can make the whole thing even a day ahead, baking just before the company arrives. 

Chicken Pot Pie

Dice the veggies small (3/4 inch dice) but leave the chicken in larger chunks for the nicest results.

  • 4 chicken breasts, bone-in, skin on
  • 2 tablespoons olive oil
  • 12 tablespoons butter
  • 2 cups diced yellow onions
  • 1 fennel bulb, thinly sliced
  • 1/2 cup flour
  • 2 1/2 cups chicken stock
  • pinch of saffron threads
  • 3 tablespoons heavy cream
  • 2 medium white potatoes, diced (1 1/2 cup)
  • 4 carrots, diced (1 1/2 cup)
  • 1 1/2 cup butternut squash, diced
  • 2 cups frozen peas
  • 1/2 cup flat-leaf parsley, minced

Pastry

  • 3 cups flour
  • 1 teaspoon baking powder
  • 1/2 cup vegetable shortening
  • 1 stick cold butter, diced
  • 1/2 cup ice water
  • 1 egg, beaten
  • kosher salt and pepper
  1. Preheat the oven to 350. Rub the chicken breasts with olive oil and sprinkle generously with salt and pepper. Roast for 35-40 minutes until cooked through. When they cool enough to handle, remove the meat from the bones and dice the chicken, discarding the skin. 
  2. While your chicken is roasting, chop and prep all your vegetables.
  3. Melt the butter in a large pot/dutch oven over medium heat. Add the onions and fennel and cook until translucent but not browned, about 10 minutes. Add flour and reduce heat to low, stir and cook for 3 minutes. Slowly add in the stock, using a whisk if necessary to avoid lumps. Add saffron, heavy cream, 1/2 teaspoon of pepper, and salt as needed (depending on how salty your chicken stock was). It should be highly seasoned - remember you’re adding a lot of veggies to this mix! Set this mixture aside.
  4. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Add the potatoes. After 5 minutes, add the squash and carrots, boil for 5 more minutes. They should be tender. Drain and add to the onion/flour mixture, along with the peas, parsley, and chicken. Mix until well combined.
  5. Now on to the pastry: In a food processor mix the flour, salt, and baking powder. Add the shortening and butter, toss quickly to coat with flour. Pulse until the mixture resembles small peas, about 10 times. With the ice water ready, turn on the machine and add the water with the machine running, processing just until the mixture comes together. Dump the dough out onto a flour board, give it a quick knead into a ball, and wrap it up in plastic wrap to rest in the fridge for 30 minutes. Give yourself a pat on the back. You, my friend, are on home stretch.
  6. Preheat the oven to 375. Divide the filling amongst whatever vessels you fancy to use: two pie plates, 4 individual ovenproof bowls, a 9 x 13 glass pan, or some permutation of the three. 
  7. Crack the egg in a bowl and beat up with a bit of water, brush some of this on the rim of your vessel of choice. 
  8. Take the pastry out of the fridge and roll it out on a floured surface to a size large enough to fit over the top of your pies. Cut out the approximate shape and put it on the top. Do you best to try and make the edges look pretty: crimping it over the edge to stick. Don’t worry, even if you massively fail at making it look pretty it will have that great “rustic” look. Brush the tops with more egg wash, make a couple slits in the top, and give it a sprinkle of salt and a couple turns from the pepper mill. 
  9. Place on a baking sheet and bake for 1 hour, or until the tops are golden. 
  10. Enjoy! (And believe me, you will!)

Adapted from the Barefoot Contessa. This recipe is essentially her Vegetable Pot Pie (Barefoot Contessa Parties!) and Chicken Pot Pie (available online) recipes combined. 

Bar Nuts So Good, You Could Even Skip The Beer (But Why Would You?)

by Trish

Sure, it looks like a bowl of cashews. A bowl of cashews with a bit of annoying greenery poked in it. But really all I can say about these is that they’re really, really good. Good enough to stand on their own rather than play second fiddle to a foamy beverage. Yet simply enough to require no more skill than the ability to turn on your oven. 

Bar Nuts

You can use any variety of nuts besides cashews, in fact a mix of nuts would be even better. Don’t use dried rosemary here (blech!). 

  • About 2 or 2.5 cups unsalted cashews or mixed nuts (no peanuts)
  • 1 tablespoon butter
  • 2 tablespoons chopped rosemary
  • 2 teaspoons brown sugar
  • 1/2 teaspoon cayenne
  • 2 teaspoons sea salt
  • few grinds of pepper
  1. Preheat the oven to 350. Roast the nuts on a sheet pan until warmed through (5 minutes), or if they’re unroasted, until they begin to slightly brown (10 minutes). Be careful, they burn easily.
  2. While waiting for the nuts to heat up, melt the butter in the microwave. Add the rosemary, brown sugar, cayenne, salt, and pepper.
  3. Put the nuts in a mixing bowl and add the butter mixture. Stir to combine. Serve warm in a pretty bowl with a nice IPA.

Recipe adapted from Nigella via 

Food Network.


Overly Complicated (But Totally Worth It) Chili

by Trish

These last two weeks I have been on a streak of cooking failures. New recipes turned out mediocre at best. A batch of potato leek soup is still lurking in the back of my fridge, untouched. It was a tough week for my kitchen.

Maybe I should have then fallen back on a tried-and-true recipe, but instead I decided to block off my entire Saturday afternoon to attempt to make a chili recipe like I had never seen before. This was not your grandmother’s ground beef and bean stew. (Unless you’re from Texas, mind you.) No, this recipe gets its red color from 7 different types of chiles rather than tomatoes. It uses chopped chuck beef rather than ground round. It gets its body from a cup of coffee and a can of beer, and then it simmers for a full 5 hours. It was overly-involved, time-consuming, and unfamiliar. But then again, after a couple of strike outs all you can do is keep swinging for the fences. 

After all, I had long been disappointed with the chili recipes I had tried in the past. They were always decent, but generally nondescript. I tried various ways to pump them up: angus ground sirloin, san marzano tomatoes, jalapenos, chipotle chili powder, cinnamon, even a tablespoon of maple syrup. Always good, but never terribly interesting. 

This latest recipe comes from The Homesick Texan. I’ve followed their blog for quite awhile but had yet to try anything. Usually because I felt intimidated by strange types of peppers I had no background with, and no idea where to buy. But writer Lisa Fain has been getting a lot of press lately for her recently published Homesick Texan Cookbook, which was welcomed with rave reviews. (I hope to get my copy soon.) Then Adam Roberts over at the Amateur Gourmet tried his hand at Lisa’s Texan chili and wrote that “this was one of the best I’ve ever made; it had that complex, developed flavor that you can only get from thoughtful, patient cooking.” It was settled then. No kidney beans, no tomatoes, no mercy!

The seven different types of chiles called for in the recipe can be hard to find. If you happen to have a Mexican grocer in your neighborhood, that would be a good start. I found 6 of the 7 chiles at the House of Spice in Kensington Market. But any good specialty spice store would probably carry a decent variety.

7 Chile Chili

If you can’t find all the chiles called for, you can use a combination of chipotle and ancho chiles instead. In Canada, chuck roasts are often called blade roasts, but any stewing-type beef is fine. I also did not have any masa harina, but the chili was plenty thick on it’s own.

  • 6 dried ancho chiles 
  • 2 dried pasilla chiles 
  • 2 dried guajillo chiles 
  • 2 dried chipotle chiles 
  • 4 dried chiles de arbol 
  • 4 pieces of bacon 
  • 4 pounds chuck roast, cut into 1/4-inch cubes 
  • 1 large onion, diced 
  • 6 cloves garlic, minced 
  • 1 cup brewed coffee 
  • 1 bottle of beer 
  • 1 tablespoon ground cumin 
  • 1 teaspoon dried oregano 
  • 1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon 
  • 1/4 teaspoon ground clove 
  • 1/2 teaspoon ground allspice 
  • 1/2 teaspoon cayenne 
  • 1 teaspoon unsweetened cocoa powder
  • 1 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste 
  • 2 chipotles in adobo sauce (canned)
  • 2 tablespoons masa harina 
  • Grated cheddar, chopped onions, and corn chips for serving
  1. Remove the stems and seeds from the dried chiles. 
  2. In a pan over high heat, toast the ancho, pastilla, guajillo, chipotle, and arbol chiles until they begin to puff slightly and are fragrant. Add enough water to cover the chiles and bring to a boil, then turn off heat and let the chiles soak until re-hydrated and pliable, about 30 minutes. 
  3. Meanwhile, in large dutch over fry bacon until crispy. Remove the bacon but leave the fat in the pan. 
  4. Brown the beef over medium-high heat in the bacon fat. Do this in batches if necessary, adding more oil if the pan becomes too dry. 
  5. Remove the beef from the pan and fry the onions until translucent, about 5 minutes. Add the garlic, cook for 30 seconds more.  
  6. Add the beef back in the pot with the onions, crumble in the bacon, and add the coffee, beer, cumin, oregano, cinnamon, clove, allspice, cayenne, cocoa, 3 cups of water, and salt. Turn the heat to high and bring to a boil.
  7. While waiting for the pot to boil, make the chile puree. Drain and rinse the chiles, discarding the soaking water (it will be bitter). Put the chiles in a blender or food processor with 1 cup fresh water and the two canned chipotle chiles. Puree very well until smooth, then add to the pot. 
  8. Simmer for 5 hours uncovered. Every hour or so check for seasoning, adding more water if needed. 
  9. After 5 hours, scoop out 1/4 cup of broth out of the pot and combine with the masa harina. Pour the masa harina mixture back into the pot and stir until incorporated. Let the chili simmer for another 30 minutes or so.
  10.  Serve with cheddar, onions, and corn chips.