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Homemade Gravlax (aka Lox)

2 good quality salmon filets that are roughly the same size, approx 1.5 lbs total (I used wild sockeye) *see note
3 T. sugar
2 T. non-iodized salt
1 bunch dill

Remove all of the pin bones from the two salmon filets using a pair of tweezers.  Trim the filets so they are the same size when stacked on top of each other.  Place both filets skin side down on a cutting board.

Mix sugar and salt together in a small bowl.  Generously sprinkle about 2/3 the mixture over the filets and gently rub in.  Flip the filets over and sprinkle skins with the remaining mixture and rub in.  Flip the filets again so the skin side is down.  Let stand for about 5-8 minutes.  Brush off any cure that seems excessive to you.

Trim dill so that it is roughly the same length as the filets.  Mound dill on top of one filet in an even layer, then top with other filet so that the flesh is in contact with the dill (think filet & dill sandwich).  Wrap the stacked filets tightly in a double or triple layer of plastic wrap.  Place in a dish (to catch any juices that should leak out), then refrigerate for 2-3 days, flipping occasionally, and pouring off any juices that might have accumulated.

Once the 2-3 days have passed, unwrap salmon, discard the dill, and rinse the filets with cold water.  Remove the skin to make cutting easier, if desired.  Slice the gravlax thinly with a sharp knife across the grain to serve.  Enjoy!

*Note:  though it may seem counter-intuitive, choose fish that has been previously frozen, sushi grade or other.  If using fresh fish, you should freeze it for at least 1 week in order kill off bacteria, etc.

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I can’t believe how easy it is to make gravlax.  Or let me rephrase that statement –  I can’t believe it’s so easy to make gravlax, and it’s taken me until now to try it!

Like some of my other favorite things — sauerkraut, salt preserved lemons, sun pickles, and sour beets to name a few — the basic procedure to make homemade lox is add salt, wait, eat.  Sure, you can add in some herbs and other seasonings as you desire, but the basic procedure remains the same.

This particular batch of gravlax I made last week as an appetizer for my sister Alisha’s Thanksgiving feast.  To serve, I put a dollop of creme fraiche on some substantial yet neutral tasting crackers, topped with a generous slice of lox and a couple of capers, and topped it all off with a paper thin slice of meyer lemon.  It was amazingly delicious, and within just a few minutes the entire plate was eaten!  It was a total hit!

The basic cure I’ve listed above is clean tasting, and not very salty.  Many recipes I came across had a 1:1 salt/sugar ratio (even as high as 2:1 salt/sugar), but since I was serving to a crowd that is salt-sensitive, I decided to go with a cure that was more like 2:3 salt/sugar.  You can go as high as 1:2 salt/sugar, but I imagine I would find this to be overly sweet.  Anyhow, what all these numbers and ratios should tell you is that the way to go is to experiment with a cure until you find something that works for your taste buds.

If you want a more complexly flavored gravlax, you might consider adding crushed juniper berries, black pepper, fennel seeds or fronds, or even something like crushed coriander seeds — just sprinkle on top of the fish before adding the dill.  And a note about the dill — every single recipe I came across called for dill (in varying amounts), so to make traditional gravlax, it seems the dill is  just about as important as the fish, the salt, and the sugar…  but, if you have tried it without, I’d love to hear from you!

Salt and sugar cure on the salmon

Salmon wrapped in plastic, about to go into refrigerator

Salmon after 2 1/2 day cure

Finished product!  Ready to serve!

Homemade Turkey Stock

1 turkey carcass, plus any skin
8 large garlic cloves
4 stalks of celery, broken into 3-4 inch pieces
10 - 20 sprigs parsley
1 onion, cut into quarters or eighths
2 - 3 carrots, cut into 3-4 inch chunks (optional)
cold water

Remove as much meat as you can from the turkey carcass and set aside for another use.  Break up the carcass and pack snugly into a large stock pot (10 qts is an ideal size, though make do with what you have — I used one 5 qt pot and one 2 1/2 qt pot).  Peel the garlic cloves and add to the pot along with the celery, parsley, onion, and carrots if using.   Pour cold, clean water over the mixture to just cover the solids.  Bring to a boil then reduce heat to a tremulous simmer and cook for no fewer than 4 hours.  Skim white foam and gunk off the top of the stock as it appears.  If liquid level drops below the solids, bring a kettle of water to a boil, then add more water.

Strain mixture into a large bowl, discarding the solids.  Stock will keep for up to a week in the refrigerator, or up to 3 months in the freezer.  Enjoy!

Serving suggestion:  Ladle homemade stock over cooked brown rice and bits of leftover turkey, along with some dried sage.  Heat gently and serve warm.

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Somehow I ended up with a large turkey carcass in my refrigerator at the close of yesterday evening.  Funny, since Thanksgiving was not at my house, and I was not in charge of cooking the turkey.  No, Steven and I spent the day at my sister’s place in San Francisco along with my brother in law and his whole family who had flown in from as far away as Hong Kong.  There were twelve of us in all, though two are under three feet tall and prefer juice boxes and toy cars to fine wine and kitchen gadgets.

My sister and I don’t always see eye to eye on food, especially when it comes to vegetable selections.  She always suggests asparagus, and for 11 months of the year, I tell her it is out of season.  She then tells me that it’s asparagus season in South America or somewhere of the sort.  I protest some more.  Then she usually wins.  Actually, I’d say she always wins :).  In fact, it has sort of become the running joke in the family, and the words ‘asparagus’, ‘high horse’, and ’soapbox’ are playfully thrown in my direction.

But anyhow, at the end of the evening after helping with cleanup, Alisha informed me that I was to take the turkey carcass home (along with about 10 pounds of other various leftovers - I’m not exaggerating — 2 1/2 qts of stuffing, 1/2 qt of mashed potatoes, 1/2 quart gravy, 1/2 pint of cranberry sauce, leftover cocktail shrimp, home cured gravlax, a dozen dinner rolls, and at least a pound of sliced turkey breast).  OK, it was more like, “this all is going to get thrown away if you don’t take it home with you”.  I couldn’t in good conscience let all of that delicious and lovingly prepared food go to waste, so I packed up a super-sized dogie bag and headed home with plans for turkey stock and all other sorts of leftover creations.

Making stock is not an exact science, it just takes a while.  If you’re not in a hurry, it’s a great way to spend a lazy weekend morning, and by following a few basic procedures, you will inevitably end up with homemade stock that is far more delicious and much more fresh tasting than anything you buy at the store.  Some stock tips are:

- break the bones into smallish pieces and pack snugly into pot; you will use less liquid and hence have less stock, but it will be more flavorful
- use good quality vegetables in the stock; they needn’t be perfect, but if it’s on it way to slimy, don’t use it as you will taste the rank flavors in the stock
- don’t add any salt until the end of the cooking time, and only add it if necessary.
- skim the stock often, at least every 10 minutes or so at the start of cooking, then less frequently later on
- resist the urge to stir the stock — the end product will be more clear the less the stock is disturbed

Happy stock making!

Rutabaga Bisque with Smoked Paprika
from Chow.com

3 T. butter
1 medium yellow onion, chopped
2 medium celery stalks, chopped
1 1/2 lb. rutabaga, peeled and coarsely chopped
4 c. low-sodium vegetable stock
2 c. half and half
1 t. ground white pepper
2 1/2 t. smoked paprika

Melt butter in a large soup kettle.  Add the onions and celery, season with salt, and cook until softened, about 5 minutes.  Add rutabaga and stock, then bring to a boil.  Reduce heat to low, and simmer for 30 minutes until rutabaga can be easily pierced with a fork.  Add half and half, white pepper, and smoked paprika then stir to blend.  Puree the soup until smooth with an immersion or regular blender.  Garnish with a bit of smoked paprika.  Enjoy!

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I was looking out my apartment window the other day when my gaze came to rest on a tree about fifteen feet away from the house.  I have to climb a set of stairs to get to my door, so when I look out the window I see branches and foliage at eye level rather than tree trunks.  This particular tree has elongated sage colored leaves that come to a point at both the tip and the stem.  I have looked at this tree hundreds if not thousands of times, along with the many many other trees visible from the window, but never really considered it.  But this particular day, something clicked, and when looking at the little black fruits hanging from the branches, I realized, ‘holy crap!  we have an olive tree in the back yard!’  I’ve been living here going on 18 months, and shockingly, I had never noticed it before!

Thats a little bit how I feel about rutabagas too — I walked past piles of them at the grocery store for years before ever picking one up.  And when I finally did try it, I found it to be delicious!  A humble, nutritious, adaptable, and hearty vegetable, the rutabaga is an under appreciated and under utilized vegetable.  Whether roasted, mashed, boiled, made into a gratin, or used as a soup base, rutabagas can be supremely tasty.

This soup, besides being tasty and more complexly flavored than you might expect from the short list of ingredients, is incredibly easy to prepare — coarsely chop some vegetables, saute, add stock, cook, add cream and spices, then puree.  Easy as… well, I would say pie, but this is WAY easier to make than pie! :)  Try it on a chilly fall evening with some crusty bread, a green salad, and a glass of red wine, and I am sure you will not be disappointed.

And one final comment about the olive tree — as trite as it may sound, you will often find surprises in places you were never looking for them, particularly right under your nose.  Take a good look at your surroundings — you might be surprised with what you find!

And one final final note: last week Modern Beet turned 1 year old!  Thanks to everyone who reads this blog and for all the thoughtful comments you have left!  I’ve had a lot of fun adding new recipes and musings to Modern Beet, and also learning from all you other wonderful cooks in the foodie blog world!

 Pie Crust with Rendered Bacon Fat (aka Bacon Grease Pie Crust) (aka the BEST pie crust ever)

1 c. rendered bacon fat
2 1/2 c. AP flour
1 t. salt
1/2 t. sugar
4-6 T. very cold water

Measure bacon fat and then freeze either in plastic wrap or a platic cup/bowl for approximately 1 hour.  Remove cold fat from freezer, then cut into 1/2 inch cubes.

Sift flour, salt, and sugar into a mixing bowl, then cut bacon fat into flour mixture until it resembles coarse pea-sized pebbles.  Gradually mix in 4T of water, mixing with a fork until dough just comes together.  The dough is ready if you pinch a fingerfull together and it does not crumble.  If necessary, Add more water, 1T at a time until dough reaches desired consistancy.

Place dough onto a clean cutting board, press together, then split into two balls.  Wrap each ball in plastic wrap, flatten, and refrigerate about 1 hour (or longer).

Remove dough from refrigerator, place on a lightly floured cutting board, then roll out into a 12-inch circle (about 1/8 in thick) (Hint: often I will place the plastic wrap or a piece of wax paper over the dough while rolling it out so it won’t stick to the rolling pin).  Transfer to 9-inch pie pan, and trim the edges if desired.

Repeat with second dough ball, and either use immediately, refrigerate for up to 2 days, or place dough between 2 sheets of parchment paper, roll up, wrap in plastic wrap, and freeze for future use.

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Oh.  My.  God.  This is the best pie crust I have ever tasted!  So flaky.  So moist.  And oh the hint of bacon…

In preparing for our move to Germany, I have been going through the cubbards, the refrigerator, and the freezer trying to use up all those things that I bought ‘for future use’ that I have never gotten around to using (ummm, 6 types of dried seaweed for example!) or have been saving because it’s too good to throw away (namely, rendered bacon fat from all that lovely farmer’s market bacon I’ve been buying most weeks — no matter how much bacon I buy, Steven and I seem to go through it with gusto!)

Looking through my refrigerator, I realized I had not one, but TWO pint jars filled with rendered bacon fat.  I think it’s great to cook with, but really, am I going to use 4 cups of bacon grease between now and when we’re leaving at the end of december?  probably not.  So, I decided that rather than throwing away all that good, organic fat, I would perform a culinary experiment I’ve always wondered about (and that there is frightfully little information on the internet about) — a homemade pie crust made with rendered bacon fat!

So, I went to my typical go-to pie crust and adapted it to use rendered bacon fat.  And oh, it was delicious!  Besides the hint of bacon, the most remarkable thing about the crust is how incredibly flaky it is.  This is due (I believe) to freezing the fat beforehand and not overmixing.

Note though — this is not a neutral pie crust!  I wouldn’t recommend using this crust for sweet pies (though it *might* be good if you wanted to make something like this).  No, this is meant to be used as a base for savory pies, quiches, and tarts (imagine spinach pie, onion tart, tomato quiche).  I think it lends itself particularly well to vegetable pies;  it has a hint of smoky meatiness that pairs well with a zingy, fresh vegetable filling.

I used this crust to make a fold-over spinach and tomato tart.  Instead of placing pie crust in a pie pan, I transferred it to a baking sheet, sprinkled on some grated swiss cheese, then layered sauteed spinach with garlic, oven roasted tomatoes (homegrown, thank you very much!), some leftover cooked squash, some fresh oregano, and more swiss cheese, leaving about a two inch border of crust.  Then, I folded the crust over, brushed it with an egg wash, then baked it at 375 for about 30 minutes until it was golden brown and the cheese was bubbly.  Delicious!!!

And one final note, I looked up the nutritional information about rendered bacon fat versus butter, and calorie and fat content-wise, they’re not that different.  So, even though this feels totally decadent, it’s really no worse than a regular butter or lard crust.  And it is oh so tasty…

Creamed Swiss Chard with Bacon

1 large bunch mixed white and yellow swiss chard
2 slices thick cut bacon, chopped
3 garlic cloves, minced
2 T. butter
2 T. flour
1 c. whole milk
salt, pepper, nutmeg

Bring a large pot of water to a boil.

Cut the center stems from the swiss chard leaves, and slice into 1/4-1/2 inch pieces.  Coarsely chop leaves. Add stems to boiling water and boil for 7 minutes.  Add leaves and boil for an addition 4-5 minutes.  Drain chard, pressing with the back of a spoon to expel as much liquid as possible. Transfer to cutting board and chop into bite size or smaller pieces.

Return emptied pot to the stove and adjust heat to medium high.  Add bacon and saute until almost crisp.  Add garlic and cook for about 1-2 minutes.  Add chopped chard and stir to evenly mix.  Remove from heat.

Make Béchamel:
In a small saucepan, melt butter and add flour.  Mix with a fork break up any chunks and blend until smooth.  Once mixture starts bubbling, cook for 2 minutes, then add milk, whisking until smooth.  Cook until mixture thickens enough to coat the back of a spoon.  Remove from heat.  Drizzle enough béchamel sauce over the chard mixture so that it is well coated, but not so much that the chard is swimming in sauce.  Add salt, pepper, and nutmeg to taste, and enjoy!

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These past few weeks have been particularly busy and challenging for me.  I changed jobs, spent two weeks in Germany for work, recovered, and am now packing my bags to go again this weekend!  Oh yeah, and did I mention that Steven and I are getting ready to move to Europe?!  Food has been on the figurative back-burner, and I’ve been subsisting mostly on rye bread, baked beans, horseradish mashed potatoes, and homemade sauerkraut (I promise to post this recipe sometime soon!  It’s SO easy, and absolutely delicious!), along with strong coffee and the occasional glass of red wine or two.

But you know, that’s ok with me.  I like rye bread with baked beans and sauerkraut as much as the next person (actually, probably a lot MORE than the next person :) ).  Sometimes monotonous repetition is just what my mind/body needs — to totally forget about one area in order to focus on another… However, even with putting culinary pursuits on the back burner, I still made my weekly trip to the farmer’s market last weekend, and brought home (among other things) a beautiful bunch of mixed yellow and white swiss chard.

Swiss chard is arguably my favorite green, though lacinto kale is up there too.  However, I often find myself in a rut in how I cook chard, typically cut into ribbons, sauteed with olive oil, garlic, and red pepper flakes.  delicious? as long as you don’t overcook it.  simple? yes.  kinda boring after a while….? …. certainly…..

So, today I decided to do a chard version of creamed spinach to change things up a bit.  Plus, creamed chard seemed to go better with my lunch of — you guessed it — mashed potatoes, rye bread, and sauerkraut.  This batch turned out particularly good, so I wanted to share the recipe.  Enjoy!

10 days into my work trip here in Germany, and my first big culinary misinterpretation…

The menu read someting like ‘Gegrilltes Haxe mit Semmelknödel und Sauerkraut’

I thought I was getting grilled fish.

Instead I got an enormous (ENORMOUS) grilled pork shank.  Imagine my surprise when it came out of the kitchen…

Thankfully, it was delicious, even though unexpected. :)

Hake:  type of fish
(photo from Capfish.co.za)

Haxe:  German word for pork shank, usually 1-2 lbs each
(photo from Wilfriedmayer.com)

 
Flammkuchen photo courtesy of lejoe on Flickr

Flamekuche (Onion, Bacon, and Creme Fraiche Tart)

1 recipe of your favorite pizza dough
2 medium white onions, cut in half vertically then sliced very thin
1 c. creme fraiche
about 1/2 c. diced bacon
freshly ground black pepper
freshly ground nutmeg

Preheat the oven to 450 degrees.

On a sheet of parchment paper, roll the pizza dough out very thin so it is about the size of your baking sheet.  Place crust (still on parchment paper) onto baking sheet and stretch the edges if they shrank back while transferring the dough.

Mix onions and creme fraiche in a bowl, then spread mixture evenly over crust.  Sprinkle diced bacon over top, then add a few grinds of black pepper and a few pinches of nutmeg.  Bake 15-20 minutes, until crust is lightly browned and crispy.  Enjoy!

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Wilkommen nach Deutschland!

Ok, full-disclosure time:  I haven’t yet made this myself, but I watched very carefully as it was made in front of me at the home of one of my co-workers here in Germany earlier this evening.  The whole time I was thinking, I’m really going to like this — simple, boldly flavored ingredients, a traditional french/german preparation… So, I made sure to take very detailed mental notes so that I could try to reproduce it at home.

Flammkuchen is far more than the sum of its parts.  You might think that with just five ingredients (other than the crust) that you’d get something bland or with a flavor skewed too far in one direction.  Not so!  The onions, bacon, and creme fraiche are a magical trio — the bite of the onion lightens the creme fraiche which cuts the saltiness of the bacon which compliments the pungent onion — these are no doubt bold flavors but in the end the dish isn’t at all overwhelming.  It’s in fact incredibly delicious — so delicious that after the dinner party I came straight back to my hotel and wrote up the recipe so I wouldn’t forget it.  Not that there’s much to forget, there being a grand total of five ingredients…

To accompany the flamekuche we had glasses of both white and red Federweisser, also known as Suser, Junger Wein (young wine), or Sturm (translates to storm — called this due to its cloudy appearance).  Federweisser is on the sweet side, and has a nice bubbly zing to it.  It is the product of fermented freshly pressed grape juice, and as far as I know isn’t much available in the US (if you know of anywhere it is available, do leave a comment!)  I have vague recollections of trying Sturm when I stayed in Linz and not being wild about it, but drinking it alongside its traditional partner flammkuchen was certainly a great way to start out my trip.

It may be sacrilegious, but when I make this at home I might consider adding a sprinkling of freshly chopped parsley, or perhaps half with parsley, half without to do a side-by-side comparison, traditional french/german v. california adaptation…  anyhow, Guten Appetit!