Pigeon and Tonic

Quickles

2010-09-18T15:42:00.001+02:00

I miss my New York dill pickles so. When I visited the city a few weeks ago I bought a pint of Gus's semi-sour and ate it them, juice and all, in one glassy-eyed half hour of bliss. Quick pickles are ready overnight, so they're an ideal compromise when home-canning gives you the heebie-jeebies and fears of botulism.

Recipe here.

North American Scum

2010-08-06T15:13:00.001+02:00

The ram is for sure my favorite, if only because I finally figured out the correct way to ink the feathers in the left-hand bird. Now that I've got the technique down, I can cover our apartment's temporary wall with white paper and draw a critter true-to-scale. Maybe a giant eland, because they are, well, giant.

bambi's post-mortem acid honeycreeper test

2010-07-05T21:37:00.000+02:00

I could go into some explanation of Steve Baker's idea of botched taxidermy, but really, I just wanted something pretty for the new apartment and couldn't afford an actual game head.

I'm working on a pronghorn antelope and a bighorn sheep next. Printed up at full size they should look good in our soon-to-be brilliantly colored kitchen.

After 25 Ingredients and Two Days, Homemade Mole Negro

2010-05-12T15:24:00.000+02:00

I learned how to make mole (pronounced moh-lay) in Oaxaca, but this was my first solo attempt. I used this recipe, skipping the chicken because I had chicken stock in the freezer, and because I was in the mood for pig. I substituted tomatoes and lime juice for the tomatillos, seeing as how they're in short supply here in Amsterdam, and star anise for the avocado leaf, for the same reasons. The chiles were a different story: A friend smuggled them in from Texas, but even chilhuacles are impossible to find outside of Oaxaca, so I subbed a mixture of New Mexico chiles plus the leftover of the anchos and pasillas.

I discovered why the process of making a mole is normally reserved for groups of women in outdoor kitchens: It took two solid days of work. When I was toasting the chiles over the stove at 3 AM, my roommates shuffled into the kitchen to ask if I was burning toxic chemicals. Which, in essence, is exactly what I was doing. The Aztecs supposedly held their children over smoking chiles to punish them.

Mise en place, at least before I demolished the pork shoulder with a shark knife.

The pot of pork simmering away with spices, herbs and vegetables.

Dipping in before the guests arrive.

The shredded pork after two sets of hands made quick word of it. Without any masa harina, I used polenta to make up for the essential ground-corn aspect of any Mexican meal.

The main show: Homemade mole negro.

Aardvarks and swine, now with more background

2010-05-08T11:23:00.000+02:00

I thought this needed a background. So, I completely re-inked the characters in Paris, and made a background based on a canal street in Amsterdam, my favorite village.

The colors always get washed out when I upload them to the blog. Maybe blogger is anti-vibrance.
Regardless of that boo boo, I sincerely hope this is better than the blank-background version.

Candy salmon

2010-05-08T11:17:00.000+02:00

Ik ben gek op gerookte zalm.

Translation: I'm crazy about smoked salmon.

Sorry, I've been taking Dutch classes lately and loving them. Is it enough of an excuse to stay in a country simply because speaking the language is so much fun? Of course, there's always the issue of food costing a fin and a tail in Amsterdam, with the rare exception of the magical Turkish grocery store near Dappermarkt. With my emptying wallet, I recently attempted to cut my grocery budget by making my own gravlax. I was defeated at the outset, however: a kilo of skin-on salmon cost 20 euros. Next time I'll ask in Dutch and see if I can't get een korting.

I used this recipe from New York Magazine because I trust both the source and Aquavit, the restaurant that provided it. I dutifully removed the pin bones, packed the salmon with salt, sugar, spices and dill, and prodded it with curiosity for 2.5 days.

When I took it out, washed off the seasonings, cut a slice and noticed it was... sweet. Jolly rancher sweet. The salmon could have been in a bulk bin at the candy store. Some frantic questions on Chowhound revealed that the recipe may have used far too much sugar in the sugar to salt ratio, and that I could have cured the salmon for a shorter time to achieve a less achingly sweet result. Something that I was not even aware of is that, by volume, kosher salt, sea salt, and table salt have different weights, apparently even accounting for the size of the salt grains. Lesson learned.

Swallowing my wounded pride, I took a poster's advice and washed the two halves of the filet under freezing water about 2 or 3 times, stopping in between when my hands went numb. Roommates came and went, and I answered their curiosity with "What does it look like? I'm bathing my fish." As luck would have it, the water trick worked and I was rewarded with two slabs of tender, buttery, melting pink omelet filling. Swallowing pride is tastier when you get to swallow gravlax along with it.

Next up: Find a cheaper source of salmon, and give this decidedly less sugar-salty cure a spin.

Deconstructed salade nicoise

2010-04-15T21:14:00.000+02:00

Not much to say here. I used this excellent recipe from Epicurious. I had to make a few substitutions, with apparently no ill effect. In place of the grilled tuna, I used the gravlax I had cured for the occasion, and substituted a mixture of basil and sage for the tarragon. I also don't think the 3 cups of parsley is strictly necessary: I got by with only one cup and the dressing was delicious. I suggest using several shallots in place of the onion as they have a more delicate flavor.

This is truly a light, delicious salad. It was one of my favorite dishes of the night as it acted as a great contrast to the rich marrow, gnocchi, and caramel crepes.

As always, the salad has disappeared by the end of the night. I love having hungry friends.

Hard to find, easy to make

2010-04-15T20:56:00.000+02:00

Apparently the Dutch don't do marrow. The French love it, the Brits do as well. However, the influence of these fellow Euro-cousins has yet to spill over to this side of the Amstel. Anticipating language issues, I neatly wrote out a translated sentence requesting "center-cut beef marrow bones." The first three butchers did not have what I needed, the closest I got were huge chunks of mystery marrow in a place near Dappermarkt. Finally, I went into a high-end butcher on Utrechtsestraat and viola, after all five employees discussing, checking, and rooting around into the massive freezer in the back, I received 2.2 kilos of plastic-wrapped frozen bones. Times like this I miss New York, where the ethnic butchers happily offload the grisly bits of an animal for a buck or two a pound.

To cook the bones, I used a technique recently posted about on Serious Eats. While it takes about 36 hours, there's essentially no active time. 2.2 kilos did a good job as an amuse-bouche for 10 people, you might what to apportion one or two bones per person for a more substantial appetizer. Once you've got your hands greasy with your new purchase, take the marrow bones and cover them with cold water in a large bowl or pot. Add a tablespoon of salt per cup of water used. Soak for 36 hours (I cheated any only soaked it 24 hours), changing the salted water three times. The idea here is draw the blood out of the marrow, until the bones have gone from pinkish to, well, bone white.

Once you're done soaking the marrow, set the bones in a pot of cold water and bring to a simmer. Make sure the water does not boil, otherwise your precious goo will ooze out and turn your hot water into a lovely base for pho. To test that the marrow is done, stick a thin knife into the center of the biggest or longest bone, and hold it under your lowest lip. This technique is fun to do in front of an audience; it makes it look like you have any idea what you're actually doing. If the knife feels warm, it's time to drain the beefy clunkers in a colander and feed your bemused guests.

Spoon out the marrow and spread it on sliced and toasted brioche. Top with a squeeze of lemon, a sprinkle of high-quality sea salt, and some chopped parsley leaves. The salt and acid are necessary to cut the buttery, slippery texture of the marrow. I applaud the gumption of my friends for diving into this wet, yellowish mess. The bones had been picked clean by the end of the night.

Ogglebee Takes the Cake

2010-04-07T00:37:00.000+02:00

After spending hours in blissful abandon coloring the trumpeting swine, I remembered an earlier children's story of mine and how much of my academic life has involved art-as-procrastination. The rationale being, if I'm doing some form of work, then I'm not really procrastinating, am I?

I wrote Ogglebee Takes the Cake for for my kid's lit course while under the pall of a senior essay. The story, about a tricky duiker named Ogglebee, was an attempt to introduce a wild, conniving, gluttonous female trickster figure, inspired by the brilliant book Trickster Makes the World. Female tricksters are all but absent from global mythology, and even within contemporary story-telling, an all-consuming female appetite is seen as vile or threatening.

I went through 30 drafts of the story, and while it was pretty satisfactory, I think it would be better as an early reader chapter book ala My Father's Dragon. Ogglebee Takes the Cake involves a two protagonists, several major crises, and an internecine war between the Baron of the Town and the Bat King for the rightful claim to a birthday cake. Heady stuff indeed to cram within 32 pages.

The story begins with Ms. Kara, owner of a famous bakery Her happy equilibrium is upset when the bovine Baron orders an impossibly large spread for his birthday feast, and a cake that is impossibly difficult to bake. Kara is forced to hire help in the form of the small, strange duiker Ogglebee, who works with the energy of three assistants.

They complete their gargantuan baking task, all set for the Baron's party the following evening. Ogglebee's true motivation for her unwavering help is revealed when she gobbles up the entire feast once Kara falls asleep. Of course, Ogglebee is caught, made contrite, and promises to set things right by going to solicit help from her mysterious friends in the forest.

It remains to be seen whether the tiny antelope can persuade the Bat King to help her, and whether the Baron's fiftieth birthday party will truly go off without a hitch. All I can hint is that the size of the eyes never matches the size of the belly.

Actually, it never will be seen, since the original story is now hidden within the inaccessible reserves of a broken hard drive. Take that, Michael Betancourt!

Time to leave the house

2010-04-05T00:38:00.000+02:00

I've been recovering from my term paper since Wednesday. I've been subsisting off 15-minute jaunts to the market while drawing like mad and catching up every past season of Lost. In other words, cross-hatching to punchings, back-stabbings and more gratuitous impalings than you can shake a dead polar bear at. In the meantime, feast your eyes upon the fruits of my labors.

And now, it's time for me get outside for a change.

The magic of caramel, no thermometer required

2010-04-04T00:30:00.001+02:00

My friend recently had a 'Thank God We Handed in Our Final Paper' dinner party. I've been feeling nostalgic for New York, so I thought I would make a Momofuku crack pie. However, reading a bunch of reviews of the recipe confirmed my suspicions: Crack pie is really just an overly sweetened, one-note rendition of chess pie. Heck, I even remember downing a slice at Milk Bar and wondering why I'd wasted my dessert slot on it.

So, some scrounging around on Tastespotting found this recipe at Leite's Culinaria.

One of the nice things about any caramel-based dessert is that the basic ingredients, that is, butter, cream and sugar, are fairly inexpensive. Of course, I went and ruined my thrifty streak by buying a pricy container of pinenuts to toast and sprinkle on top, but alas, thus is the siren call of the semi-discount grocery store.

I found the dessert to be too sweet, but none of my classmates seemed to have any issue with that.

Considering the fact that I conducted ample sampling at every stage of caramelization and dough-mixing, I think I was sugared-out by the time the tart was complete. As the case may be, the tart disappeared and the bottom of the springform was licked clean by the time I had finished chatting in the kitchen.

This is quite a forgiving recipe. I didn't have a tart pan, I used the entire dough recipe instead of halving it, and didn't wait for anything to cool down, and it still came out just fine, albeit gloopy. Make sure to follow the directions exactly for making the caramel, they work like magical magic. I wasn't a fan so much of the pinenuts (maybe because I only like them in pesto, or hand-gathered from the wild in New Mexico), but I could see a fun variation in this using peanuts at the bottom and topped with a dark, bitter ganache. As the case may be, barely-sweetened whipped cream or creme fraiche is always a vital component to cut the caramel.

Baja-style fish tacos: It takes a cook to know a cook

2010-03-28T15:13:00.001+02:00

This was my first time preparing fish outside of seafood stews, and I was impressed with how quick, easy and ridiculously tasty the results were. I tend towards baroque recipes because as a grad student I have loads of time to plan and procrastinate. Fish tacos make a perfect under-30-minute weeknight sort of meal for those of you who live, you know, in the 'real' world.
Since the fish is flaked at the end anyways, there's no need to preserve the shape of those lovely tilapia filets for your guests: go ahead, cut up the fish during cooking with your spatula and no one will know the difference. As a frugal student, I was also astonished that the recipe called for discarding all of the delicious marinade once the fish hit the skillet. No thanks. I tossed in all the onions, garlic and cilantro because an opportunity to saute all that stuff up with plenty of olive oil should never be put to waste.

I've also learned I much prefer to cook for people who cook. Those who get most of their meals out of a package in general seem completely unaware of the labor and cost of producing something that requires knives, fire, and forethought. Sour grapes? Naw, sour limes.

Get the recipe here.
Use tilapia, striped bass, or another sustainable fish for this recipe. Fish tacos are too good to contribute to ecological strife. Serve the fish with lime-flavored sour cream, homemade flour tortillas, and salsa verde, if you can find tomatillos, or pico de gallo, if all you have available are plain ole tomatoes.
I substituted the fish for refried black beans with melted cheese (the licht + yonge variety) for my vegetarian roommate, and the report from her front was pretty happy as well.

Sounders of Swine

2010-03-21T21:43:00.001+01:00

Did you know that the collective term for swine is a 'sounder'? So, it only seemed appropriate that they would be responsible for sounding the alarm when the birds invade the city. The hogs will have boots and garters soon, but for now, they'll have to live with going shoeless in stockings.

Side Dishes for 50 Tamales

2010-03-16T18:26:00.001+01:00

50 tamales, while delicious, are not enough to feed 15 people. That's why I made a double serving of all of the below recipes to pad out my guests's waistlines. All recipes wash down well with several shots of single-village mezcal.

Mexican Rice

I normally never trust recipes from Recipezaar, the great flea market of crappy food, but this recipe is a winner, mostly because it's lifted entirely from America's Test Kitchen. Use the reserved chicken stock from making the tamales and mole, or use set aside some of the original vegetable stock if you want to make this vegetarian.

Refried Black Beans with Sauteed Green Pepper and Onion

Contrary to what many people think, 'refried' doesn't mean twice-fried. Rather, 're' is a Spanish prefix meaning 'well.' In order to turn the linked recipe into refried beans, simply take the finished product and sauté in a pan with a few tablespoons of hot oil before serving.

Homemade Tortillas

I tried two tortilla recipes before this one, and this was by far the best. It avoids the soggy/undercooked middle that I've gotten with other flat breads.

Quick and Easy Salsa
You can substitute 2 cans of diced tomatoes, dried chile power and garlic powder to taste and no one will know the difference (including yours truly). This also tastes good with a half green pepper diced and thrown in with a pinch of chipotle powder.

Oaxacan Salad
As featured previously!

Authentic Black Mole Chicken Tamales - An Incredibly Detailed Guide

2010-03-16T17:39:00.002+01:00

A month or so ago, I threw a party to showcase all the ingredients I'd brought to Amsterdam from Mexico: black beans, mezcal, cumin, masa harina and black mole. By far the best part of the dinner, and the most labor-intensive, was the cooking, assembly, and steaming of the tamales.

Tamales involve multiple recipes all mixed together and put into the service of a greater good. You must make vegetable stock, poached chicken, mole sauce, and tamale dough, and then assemble the tamales and steam them before you can enjoy the fruits of days of labor. At least according to my friends that I pressed into assembly service, it was more than worth it. These tamales were ridiculously, ridiculously good.
Recipes and directions after the jump

With the exception of the stock, I doubled or tripled the following recipes to have enough to feed 15 people.

Vegetable Stock
-adapted from here-
4 carrots, peeled, cut into pieces
2 unpeeled onions, quartered
2 large potatoes, or several small potatoes
2 celery stalks with leaves
6 unpeeled garlic cloves
Handful of dried shiitake mushrooms
2 leeks, white and light green parts only, cut into pieces
4 tablespoons olive oil
2 tablespoons soy sauce
Salt and pepper to taste
12 quarts of water

Add the olive oil to the bottom of a large pot and heat until hot. Sauté the vegetables until they're a bit browned in places, and then add water, mushrooms, and spices. Bring to a boil, and lower heat until the water is simmering. Simmer for 30 minutes or until the vegetables are tender, longer if you have the time. Strain out the vegetables; add soy sauce and more spices to taste.
Note: No one says this, but the leftover potatoes taste awesome.
Another note: This can be halved if you don't use stock all that often, but since it freezes so well, it's worth making a recipe that produces so much.

Poached and Shredded Chicken Breasts

3 cups vegetable stock

2 cups water

3 boneless, skinless chicken breasts

Bring the stock and water to a boil in a wide pot or pan. Add the chicken and lower the liquid to a simmer. Simmer, covered, for 9 minutes. Remove pan from the heat and let sit, covered, for another 20 minutes. Remove the chicken breasts from the liquid. Once the breasts have cooled, shred them with you fingers into very thin strips.

The great thing about this that you can reserve the cooking liquid for the tamale dough, since the chicken breasts have essentially turned the vegetable stock into chicken stock.

Black Mole Sauce

You can get the excellent recipe from Seasons of My Heart here.

Or, if you don't have an entire kitchen staff to help you, you can order high quality black mole paste from Seasons of My Heart and reconstitute it according to the directions. The majority of Mexican cooks use pre-made mole paste, so the practice is not considered 'inauthentic.' If you live somewhere in the world that lacks tomatillos, you can substitute green tomatoes or more ripe tomatoes plus lime juice to add acidity.

Tamale Dough
-adapted from Tantalizing Tamales by Gwyneth Doland-
3 cups dried masa harina mixed with 2 cups warm water
1 cup fresh lard, or 1/2 cup vegetable shortening + 1/c cup butter
1 1/2 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1 1/2 cups homemade chicken stock

Using your hands, work the warm water into the masa. Let rest for 15 minutes.
Beat the lard with the salt and powder until fluffy. A stand mixer is preferable, but if you have friends with strong forearms, you can use them too.
Add the fresh masa to the lard by handfuls, beating between additions
Add the stock, and then beat for 15 or 20 minutes, or until fluffy.
The dough is 'done' when a grape-sized ball floats in a glass of water. Mine never floated, but it sure tasted damn delicious when the tamales were done.

Really, lard?

To get this out of the way, pig lard does not have any more calories than butter, and is no worse for you than either butter or shortening.

Where to buy lard
Under any circumstance, do not buy canned or packaged lard at your grocery store. It has funky, off-flavors that will ruin your tamales, not to mention the stabilizers that make it bad for you. Instead, buy your lard from a butcher; even a sizeable amount will be fairly cheap. Some butchers sell completely rendered lard, other may sell lard with bits of 'other' stuff mixed in.
How to 'purify' fresh lard
Here's how you can get rid of the 'other' stuff. Cut the lard into chunks, and melt it over moderate heat in a pot. Wait until the molten fat looks relatively clear and the cracklings rise to the surface. Stir with a metal implement to make sure nothing sticks and burns.

Line a metal colander with cheesecloth and set over a heat-proof bowl. Pour the lard through the cheesecloth and discard the fried bits left behind.

CAUTION: Animal fat gets much, much hotter than boiling water. It will absolutely melt a plastic colander into gobs of fatty, oily toxins. Also, be careful with fat spatters: The tiny burn welts on my arms made me look like I had a crack habit.

Tamale Assembly and Cooking
Soak about 30 dried corn husks in warm water for several hour or overnight until soft. The above recipe will make about 24 tamales, but some husks will inevitably break as you use them, so it's good to have extras.
Mix about a 1/3 of a cup of the mole with the shredded chicken or more to evenly coat the chicken with the sauce. Reserve the rest of the mole to spoon over the finished tamales.
Flatten a corn husk on a work surface. At the wider end of the husk, add a 1/4 cup of the tamale dough. Flatten the dough out, making sure to leave an inch clearance between the dough and the edge of the husk in all places. Spoon a tablespoon or two of the chicken filling over the dough. Do not overfill your tamales, as otherwise the whole operation can end up messy. Roll up the tamale until the dough closes around the filling, making sure not to get the husk stuck inside the dough or filling. Fold the entire package in lengthwise, making the crease around the middle of the husk where the dough ends. Repeat until the dough or fillings run out.
Add an inch or two of water to a large pot and set a steamer rack in the bottom: I don't have a steamer, so I used large crumpled balls of tin foil. Stand up the tamales inside the rack, with the open end pointing up so the filling doesn't fall out. Bring the water to a boil, and then lower to a simmer and cover the pot. The tamales will be done after an hour, or until the corn wrapper pulls cleanly away from the dough. Check the pot periodically to make sure that the water hasn't evaporated, and add more water as need.

Toss back a shot of mezcal and congratulate yourself on a job well done!

No, I promise, I'm doing work right now

2010-03-15T22:45:00.001+01:00

The narwhal spread is mostly done at this point. Plus, as certain professors and classmates might know, I have some other work to do. The kind I'm paying to do. Sigh.

I'm leaving the font up to the hypothetical art director after, of course, publishers award me a zillion dollar contract, a pony, and a bathtub full of warm praline paste.
The text for this page is:
"...but most of all she planned to capture the ear-splitting, ship-sinking, man-eating Sea Canary, a monster that no sailor had defeated before."

A Oaxacan Salad in Amsterdam

2010-03-12T11:21:00.008+01:00

I served this salad recently as part of a huge Mexican-themed dinner. It manages to be exotic while still using ingredients that are mostly available in the Latin-food desert that is Northern Europe.

Oaxacan Salad

Note: This salad can be cut in half for smaller groups

Adapted from Seasons of My Heart cooking school in Oaxaca

For the dressing:
1/2 cup grapefruit juice
4 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
1/2 cup olive oil
2 tablespoons chopped garlic
2 teaspoons freshly ground black pepper
1 teaspoon salt
1/4 cup or more orange/lime juice from soaking jicama

For the salad:
2 jicama (If jicama is not available, a mild radish such as daikon also works)
2 oranges, juiced
2 limes, juiced
2 oranges, cut into segments
4 guavas (I couldn't find guavas in Amsterdam, and I omitted them without any effect on the salad)
1 red onion, chopped
4 avocados, cut into chunks
1 cup cilantro, chopped
2 heads red-leaf lettuce
2 bunches arugula
1 cup pepitas (pumpkin seeds)
230 grams of goat cheese, feta also acceptable
2 pomegranates, seeded

-Marinate the jicama in the lime and orange juice for a half an hour.
-Drain the jicama, saving the juice.
-Whisk together the dressing ingredients together. Add the reserved lime/orange juice, adding up to a 1/2 cup to taste
-Mix the ingredients together in 2 large bowls
-Sprinkle the pomegranate seeds over the salad, and crumble the cheese on top

The Sea Canary develops further

2010-03-10T03:04:00.001+01:00

The Canary still doesn't exactly look very aquatic. It's Cowgirl's imagination, though, and so she's perfectly free to throw in as much technicolor as she likes. The belly of the bird is the multiplied texture from a crocodile skin handbag.

Gangs of Elk blitz the birds with bellowing blusters

2010-03-09T23:13:00.000+01:00

...But their work is cut short by Storks mobbing in Musters

Feed Twenty Friends on the Chill and Cheap

2010-03-09T12:03:00.001+01:00

....and without an oven, processor, egg beaters, blender, or enough containers to hold the food.

Whenever I have a dinner party, I tend to snowball invitations. The idea of having to discriminate among my brilliant acquaintances leaves me tapping my desk in indecision. Living with 5 other (charming, might I add) roommates also adds up the auto-invite list. So it was last week that I found myself faced with the task of making food for 20 people in my tiny shared kitchen and hosting them in our be-IKEA'ed living room.

The feast this time was vaguely Middle Eastern themed, my first shot at this type of cuisine after two Mexican themed nights, and various half-hearted attempts at crepes and Vietnamese. So, how did I manage to make triple orders each of hummus, Greek fava, bulgar wheat pilaf, green lentil salad, 'Arabic' salad, tzatziki, and 'Turkish' rice pudding and not kill myself with work or underfeed my friends?

My ambitions taught me several keys to feeding a crowd on the cheap:
   1) Dried beans and grains are your friends. They're a great source of protein, filling, have a huge variety of flavors and are ridiculously cheap. I was able to make triple or quadruple amounts of each recipe using only one bag of beans.
   2) Start a week ahead and freeze what you can. I froze the lentils, the fava, and the hummus, and I probably could have gotten away with freezing the pudding if I made it ahead of time.
   3) During the days before the meal, make one or two recipes a night according to how long they will keep. For instance, I made the pudding two days ahead, and the tzatziki one day ahead. The only things I made the day of were the pilaf, which needed to be hot, and the 'Arabic' salad, which needed to be fresh.
   4) Frying is tough for a crowd unless you're professionally equipped. My roommate made falafel, but the mix she used was expensive, and to provide more than 20 chickpea balls would have required hours of frying.
   5) Good bread is also your friend. I used the sesame-seed and olive oil flat bread (similar to focaccia) from a local Turkish bakery, and like all breads, it was cheap, filling, and went well with the bean spreads.
   6) If you live in Amsterdam, avoid Albert Heijn. Stick to Turkish grocery stores or Dappermarkt, where the produce is cheaper and fresher, and go to Dirk van der Broek for staples like olive oil and milk.

Now, without further ado, the recipes. All can be tripled or quadrupled without any problem, and with only a bit more work than making a single recipe.
Greek 'fava'
I didn't bother making the eggplant part of this recipe, but let me tell you, I've never had split peas simmered into a puree before, but they rock.
Mark Bittman's Hummus
I used only half of the tahini in this, and more lemon than called for. People loved it, but I do think that I could have upped the tahini a little. Some of my friends have more conservative tastes so I was worried about the sesame-seed paste flavor being a too strong.
Green Lentil Salad
I was considering leaving the cilantro out of this, but it really made the salad sing. This was a surprise favorite among my buddies.
Middle Eastern Salad
I couldn't find purslane, but the salad still tasted great. I would recommend draining the cucumbers and tomatoes for a while as the bottom of the bowl got a bit soupy.
Bulgur Pilaf
This was my least favorite. The dried fruit was too sweet for me: I added more salt and pepper than the recipe originally called for. As well, the whole almonds were just too big. That said, I think it's a good base recipe and could be experimented with.
'Turkish' Rice Pudding
I named it 'Turkish' just for the fun of it. I omitted the vanilla (due only the crummy artificial stuff being available), added the zest of a half lemon, and the crushed seeds of two pods of cardamon. I would happily eat this rice pudding until it came out my nose. That's how much I loved it.
Tzatziki
Honestly, I can't remember where I found this recipe; I looked at way too many. However, it's simple to make: Take 500 grams of full fat yoghurt and drain it in a cheese-cloth or paper-towel lined colander for several hours. Unless you can afford Greek-style yoghurt, most full-fat yoghurt is still too watery for Tzatziki. Grate 1/2 of an English cucumber, squeeze out the liquid, and mix it into the yoghurt. Add 2 cloves of minced garlic, 2 tablespoons of chopped dill, and salt to taste.

Storms of Petrels

2010-03-09T02:42:00.005+01:00

Fun fact: I draw the pupils last, so all of my animals look like soulless zombies until I'm done with the coloring.

More fun fact: I know nothing about perspective.

Even more fun fact: I hate drawing backgrounds more than I hate burned marshmallows.

A Ditty for the Kitty that Saved the City

2010-03-09T02:19:00.001+01:00

I have a complete weakness for wordplay, puns, rhymes and odd words with strange and specific meanings. I adore nonces, portmanteaus, and hapax legomenoms. When I found out that collective nouns weren't restricted just to the commonplace 'school of fish' or the appropriate 'murder of crows,' and indeed that there exist massive lists of collective nouns for animals, it invited hours of procrastination. Of course, working also at the Internet Company that Shall Not Be Named, I managed to procrastinate even without vocab lists.

While collecting my favorites, I noticed a story begin to emerge. Terms for groups of mammals tended to be more merely descriptive or amusing, while collective nouns for birds were often quite violent and action-orientated. So, I put threw together a poem about a gang of miscreant birds deciding to invade a city affably ruled over by leonine king and other assorted furry species. All of the capitalized words indicate collective nouns, which to the best of my research are 'proper' collective nouns, and not ones invented out of fancy.

A note on the poem: It doesn't entirely make sense as-is, as a lot of the action will be explained in the accompanying illustrations. The hero in the tale is a cat who works as a poster-man glueing up advertisements, and manages to assemble enough of his co-workers to cover the palace with glue and stick the birds in place. At the last moment, of course.

Now with out further ado....

No Clutters of Cats break the night with their mewing.

Just one Cat, alone, with posters and glueing.

Towers of Giraffes are asleep in the keep,

While a Sault of Lions dreams of assault in its sleep.

But below...

A Murder of Crows plots an intrigue most striking

To replace the town's King with one more to their liking

"We'll perch in the palace. We'll nest on the throne,

With servants to serve us while we laze about prone."

Come join in our army, all birds of a feather!

We'll march on the city and rule it together!

With a Sord of Mallards and a Nightingale Watch,

The birds pen a plan far too clever to botch.

They march on the gates to hoax happy happ'nings,

Misleading the guards with Deceits full of Lapwings

Once Coverts of Coots bridge the city's defenses

The flock casts aside its peaceful pretenses

So an Armory of Aardvarks is summoned to arms

By Sounders of Swine that sound the alarms.

Gangs of Elk blitz the birds with bellowing blusters

But their work is cut short by Stocks mobbing in Musters

Storming petrels in swarming patrols

charge Leaps of Leopards and Labors of Moles

The birds breach the palace.

They send Troops of 'Roos scattering.

Sieges of Herons seize the throne and go battering.

Thus encircled by pheasants and murderous falconry,

Our ruler seems doomed to defeat on his balcony.

But their feathers are plastered!

Their plot is prevented!

Their purchase on perches now firmly cemented.

Now Chains of Bobolinks are booed as buffoons

Crows and coots caught in the Gaze of Raccoons

Trapped in school they are taught (if they could forget such a thing)...

That a single cat can save the king.

Narwhals make good broncos

2010-03-08T14:03:00.000+01:00

The mostly completed Cowgirl for the spread where she fantasizes about capturing the Sea Canary. I'm actually quite happy with it, particularly with the scratchy, splotchy textures for her aquatic steed.

Color test

2010-02-25T01:14:00.000+01:00

Been trying out different colors for the 'Sea Canary' according to how Cowgirl sees it in her daydreams. I tried to make the monster appear exotic in contrast to the sharp angles and dreary browns of the ranch. The first version looks loads like a quetzal mixed with Garuda after a Balinese vacation:

While I like the colors of the top version better, a watery palette works better in terms of the story, seeing as how the mythical Canary is a sea monster. Perhaps some lurid purples in the waters would punch up the effect of the fantasy.

Next up: Drawing cowgirl on a narwhale with a lasso, attempting to snare the monster from the adjacent page. Once I have these two layouts completed, I'll cut, fold, and draw to make a dummy for the rest of the book. I was a bit nervous about this step, but after some research on the always wonderful Seven Impossible Things, I've seen that dummies can be very, very sketchy indeed. Perhaps with a bit of color cover art tossed in, I'll at last be able to show the product to my publish-y friends.

Getting a new perspective

2010-02-11T17:22:00.001+01:00

I've been aiming for a 'superflat' style in my illustrations, hoping to emulate the now-trendy style of Charles Harper. Recently though, I've been rethinking the sketches for the Cowgirl and the Sea Canary (working title), and adding more depth-of-field. Perspective is exciting, and last time I checked, the kiddos like excitement.

I think the second version is less claustrophobic feeling. The pool points off into the distance of the range. Oh, to have gone to school for illustration instead of - wait, what am I studying?

Settling on a style

2010-01-28T21:13:00.000+01:00

Another experiment for the Cowgirl Who Wasn't. It's getting towards the graphic, textured flatness I was hoping for, without all of the icky black lines or digital tricks. Note also my incredibly obvious cribbing from David Hockney's A Bigger Splash.

And now, for the rhyme Cowgirl repeats to herself when she's pining for the sea:

The range is too dry.

The sky is too pale.

The cows won't swim.

The horse won't sail.

The Cowgirl Who Wasn't

2010-01-25T22:04:00.001+01:00

Two new concepts for a picturebook I wrote about an apathetic cowgirl, appropriately named Cowgirl. She leaves the ranch one day to become a sailor on the open seas and, of course, misadventures ensue. Will she capture the dreaded Sea Canary? Will she make it back to the farm? Only my work ethic and lackluster drawing abilities will tell.

I'm playing with organic textures (leather, woodgrain, gravel), and attempting to master Photoshop's pen tool. I miss my copy of Illustrator.

A Tricky Question, or, a Vegetarian Makes Bacon

2009-09-06T19:22:00.001+02:00

Compare the two objects in the image below. Which one is the belly of a dead pig, and which is a human forearm?

Answer: The lumpy wet one is a pig. The smooth one on the bottom is me. Was the Vegetable God trying to tell me that a vegetarian shouldn't cure her own bacon? Nevertheless, I had a mission, a mission to create the greatest present my Dad had ever eaten. I started out with a recipe from the meat-curing bible Charcuterie:

50 grams kosher salt

12 grams 'pink' salt. I used more regular salt, since I wasn't particularly concerned about botulism, since I would be gifting the bacon rather soon, and since nitrites supposedly give you cancer.

50 grams of pure maple syrup. Use Grade B if you can, it has a more intense maple flavor.

50 grams of brown sugar, or maple sugar if you can find it.

5 pounds of pork belly - ask your butcher for it.

Mix together the salt, sugar and syrup:

I decided to experiment with two different kinds of pig. One, a conventionally grown hog obtained from the butcher inside the Essex Street Market, and the other from a heritage breed raised on Flying Pig Farms. Notice the bristles on the heritage pig?

Take time to admire the difference between the two cuts. The photograph doesn't do it justice, but the heritage pig was a brilliant red. Certainly a horse of a different color (and price point)

Cut the skin away from meat and fat. Try to tamp down any feelings that you're carving up human flesh. Rub the meat with the sugar cure.

After the massage, slide the meat into a ziplock bag and stick it into the refrigerator. Keep it inside the fridge for 7 days, flipping over the meat every other day. When it's done, a significant portion of water will have been drawn from the pork, and the meat itself will feel stiffer.

Under very cold water, wash the cure off the bacon.

Heat an oven to 200 degrees F, and then slowly roast the bacon until its internal temperature reaches 150 degrees (for safety reasons). This will take about 2 to 3 hours. It took me much, much longer, as I stayed up into the night cursing and stamping and keeping my roommates up, because I had yet to learn that my oven's temperature is about as consistent as the weather in Amsterdam. You can also use a smoker, but it's a bit hard to fit one of those inside an apartment in New York City.

At this point, the bacon can be eaten out of hand. You can freeze it for later use, or you can fry it up for your dad's breakfast.

Carve up the belly into strips:

Fry up the strips. For tips on frying the ideal bacon, check out this video.

Plate it with poached eggs and roasted asparagus, and enjoy.

The verdict? The best bacon my dad had ever had, hands down. His dadly eyes rolled into the back of his dadly head.

Could we tell the difference between the conventional and the heritage pork? Not enough to warrant the price difference, although the heritage did seem to have a deeper, more complex flavor. I'd say save the heritage for dishes where it won't be masked by the bold flavors of pure fat, salt and sugar.

Now go off, young warrior, to cure meat of your own! Just don't confuse the pork belly with your own arm.

The Porcine Porque, or, Bacon Makin it Large Online

2009-09-06T19:11:00.000+02:00

Within the last few years, bacon has experienced explosive popularity as an iconic example of culinary trendiness. But how? Sure it's strange that something already ubiquitous in the American foodscape came to be 'discovered' by the foodie establishment, when it had already been sizzling under our noses for, well, the history of preserved meat.

Bacon, unlike it's sister junkfood the cupcake, which was catapulted into the minds and mouths of the tv-viewing population by Magnolia Bakery and Sex in the City, never experienced mainstream celebrity endorsement. It is, upon first consideration, fatty, ugly, and unappealingly quotidian. However, bacon profited from several foodie movements within the 'real' world.

For one, the back-to-farm movement towards heritage breeds revived interest in utilizing every part of these delicious creatures, including the belly from whence bacon springs. The emphasis on local, sustainable, and traditional foods also paved the way for the re-acceptance of fat as a flavoring and source of nutrition. After all, the culinary scene has recently seen the publication of an excellent cookbook entitled "Fat" (read about it here) and Josh Ozersky of New York Magazine's near-pride at contracting gout after consuming too much lard and meat. Throw in bacons association as a typically 'masculine' and thus virile food, a food you can boast about, and you are left with a sturdy trifecta of trendiness.

However, mighty bacon's entree into pop-culture can't be explained alone through the top-down control of critics and chefs. I would argue that in addition to its essential, piggy nature, bacon also embodies qualities ideally suited to internet popularity:

1) Snark, and/or hipster irony. Snark is that uneasy skein of sarcasm that masks genuine affection or interest in a subject. Unicorns, ninjas, 80s fashion and the like are all quite silly cultural artifacts, but I suspect that those people who proclaim to be above these tchotchkes still think, deep down inside, that they're pretty darn cool. Bacon is ideal for that same snarky treatment. It's iconic, 'low' cuisine, associated with diners and mom's box pancakes, and yet no carnivore can deny the guilty pleasure of gnawing through a plate of chewy, oily, processed pig flesh. Good and bad, guilty and indulgent.

2) Riff and response. Like a video response to a video response on YouTube, or the endless installments of LOLcats and Command Canids, bacon lends itself to variation on a theme. Due to bacon's inherent silliness, it comes as both a surprise and a delight to see it decontextualized in so many applications. Bacon-as-dessert has been a particularly vibrant meme. The past few years have witness endless variations on candied bacon, bacon chocolate, bacon donuts and bacon cupcakes. Bacon architecture, in the form of woven mats and moulded cups, has been no less creative. It was able to skip along the well-connected networks of food bloggers who 'hack' cookbook and magazine recipes and encourage the sharing of the results of their own experiments.

3) Marketability. Bacon has also expanded well beyond its digestible roots into a riot of accessories, from tattoos to scarves to band-aids. Such products found an audience in online groups who had already been primed to see bacon as both fashionable. And, no doubt, there's something visually arresting about that squiggly pattern of red and white.

Bacon...bringing it home, via the internet.

Cooking Blogs: Replacing the Real Thing?

2009-09-06T16:53:00.000+02:00

Immortal Beloved Michael Pollan recently ran a lengthy piece in the New York Times, Out of the Kitchen, Onto the Couch. In it, he argues that cooking shows, particularly those on the Food Network, have helped to move the average American eater from behind the stove to the front of the tube. Average citizens, where their time might once have been occupied by cooking, are now having those same time slots occupied by the witnessing of cooking. In short, spectatorship has become a surrogate for participation.

Pollan, in pointing a finger at television, misses an important media outlet that may be partly to blame for the decline in cooking, particulary among the tech-saavy: blogs. Where in Food Network the emphasis is on showy technique and outsize personalities, food blogs tend to be entirely about the food itself. Lovingly shot, expertly lit, with saturated colors bringing to mind the aroma of hot bread or grilled steak, the best food blogs are feasts for the eye. It's clear why this genre is referred to as food porn, because like real porno, it triggers the desire for possession but only halfway satisfies it.

Food blogs are useful, no doubt about it. I don't think I would have learned half what I know about baking technique or exotic ingredients if I hadn't fallen into the online foodie network. I can spend hours searching through recipes with the end purpose of producing an actual meal. And yet, I suspect that I am not the only person lacking an oven who still reads baking recipes, or who reads reviews of restaurants I'll never visit.

So, have blogs made cooking more accessable and personal? Or have are they as insidious a culinary influence as television? As always, food for thought.

If you don't know about Michael Pollan, you've been living under a rock made of high-fructose corn syrup. Before you buy any of his books, most of his articles are available from the New York Times. This is the piece that made me a pescatarian: Power Steer.

The great-grandma of all food porn sites: Tastespotting, not to be confused with FoodGawker or PhotoGrazing.

Pornography comes in all types. Have you seen the smut-fest that is CuteOverload?
Cuteness is, itself its own type of porn.

New drawings up on Flickr

2009-09-05T15:17:00.000+02:00

Separated from my printer in Brooklyn, alas I cannot offer these as giclees just yet.

Take a gander here.

However, if you find yourself in New York around October 1, you can see them live and in-person at Recession Art. My lovely friend Ani and her sister Emma are the twin geniuses behind the concept. See http://recessionartshows.com/

Father Knows Least