I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts

Chilled Cucumber, Avocado and Watercress Soup

Whole Roasted Wild Black Bass with an Herb Pistou

Grilled Escarole with Lemon

Wild Rice Salad with Toasted Almonds, Cranberries, Mint and Raspberry Vinaigrette

Coconut-Espresso Panna Cotta with Chocolate Sauce and Toasted Coconut Shavings

~~

I cooked for a client yesterday at their lovely vacation hideaway on Fire Island. The kitchen had open, airy, floor to ceiling glass walls and a full view of the gardens including a vast expanse of green grass and a drop-off pool that melted into the Sound. The view was stunning, I watched wind surfers and kite surfers cruising across the water, and was reminded, once again, just how much I miss the Caribbean… But the view, with the added benefit of an eight burner Viking range stove and concrete and chopping block counter tops peeled me away from my nostalgia, if only momentarily. And yet, even with all that, working on land still seems slightly mundane. In fact, life on land seems slightly mundane…

The Caribbean season is right around the corner and I can already feel that sun shining down on my shoulders, the cool, clear water splashing around my ankles, the smell of the salty air and the taste and tingle of an ice-cold beer sliding down my throat… Mmmmm beer, as Homer would say…

On one of my trips last season, aboard the ketch, we were anchored out in Tabogo Cays with guests aboard. The captain had made espresso for everyone and I happen to have an open can of coconut milk, so I added some to my espresso – then of course, the captain put some in his and brought some to the guests and it turned out to be a hit.

This got me thinking… I’ve had Coconut Panna Cotta on my mind lately but I wasn’t sure if I should just replace the milk entirely with coconut milk, or do a 50/50 split. So, I was playing around the kitchen the other day and I decided to test out a few recipes.

The first batch I made with just coconut milk, to which I added sugar and gelatin and steeped with nutmeg. This batch came out tasty, if not a bit sweet. What I learned though is that although I knew that coconut milk separated in the can, it didn’t occur to me that might happen after I poured the mixture into the molds. And, when I went to un-mold the dessert, low and behold, it had separated. This didn’t pose too major of a problem, as it still gelled, but the clear coconut water had separated and gelled on the bottom and the coconut milk gelled on top.

Seperated Coconut Milk from Batch #1

For the next batch, I used equal parts coconut milk and half-and-half and the same amount of sugar, nutmeg and gelatin as batch #1. The addition of dairy added another dimension to the panna cotta entirely. The texture was more rich and creamy and the dairy gave the dessert an almost custard quality, the coconut flavor was slightly more subtle but still distinct and it didn’t taste nearly as sweet as the batch made with just coconut milk. As well, the coconut milk didn’t separate, at least not discernibly so. Although I thought both batches were delicious, the addition of milk made for a more luxurious dessert and enhanced both the flavor and texture.

Next, I played around with the addition of espresso. First I added espresso to the mixture containing just coconut milk. And, well, it made the coconut fat solids really stand out. The solids didn’t melt enough, even when heated, to give the base a homogenized color. Instead, it looked kind of gross so I tossed it and didn’t bother adding the gelatin. Then I made another batch with coconut milk, half and half and espresso and, well, it was bliss – even better than the version without the espresso.

And finally, I had to do the deconstructionist thing and make an espresso gelee which I poured on top of the 50/50 batch (without espresso). Un-molded, it looked beautiful, but my gelee was a little too strong so I’ll have to work that one out. All things considered though, my top pick is the 50/50 batch with the espresso added right into the mixture. And, well, the guests loved it. In fact, they said the food was better than going to a restaurant – and that is the reason I love what I do…

Coconut Panna Cotta

(serves 10 – 12)

2 cups coconut milk

2 cup half and half (light cream or whole milk would work fine)

1/2 cup sugar

Pinch of fresh grated nutmeg (or ground cardamom)

5 sheets gelatin, softened in cold water

3 rounded teaspoons espresso powder *optional

(Medalgio D’Oro brand instant espresso coffee)

12 2 oz. ramekins or molds

Combine coconut milk, milk, sugar, spices and espresso in a pot and bring to a simmer. Add softened gelatin and stir until dissolved. Portion into ramekins or molds and refrigerate overnight. To un-mold, remove from refrigerate and allow to stand for five minutes and then invert onto a plate. Dipping the outside of the ramekin in hot water will help release the dessert, but I also find that it speeds the melting process and the panna cotta can become drippy. It’s best to leave the panna cotta out until it loosens up on it’s own. Garnish with toasted coconut, chocolate sauce and mango.

Voila.

(I'm working on my photography here people. bare with me, I'm better with knives than I am with a camera...)

Little Sacrifices

The Bivalve Mollusk Brigade

Don't worry little oysters, 72 virgins await you in Heaven...

I sit at the Oakland airport, enjoying some fine international airport cuisine and wonder if I’ll be able to chug down my giant bottle of water before my row is called for boarding. An announcement has just been made that solid food can be brought onto the airplane, but with the recent ban on liquids, salad dressing and condiments must be applied before boarding the plane. I fear abject stupidity more than a terrorist attack… Where is the line between rationale thinking and unrestrained paranoia?

As I bite into my “gourmet” burrito, I indulge in thoughts of the meals I’ve had over the passed three weeks of road tripping around Southern Oregon and Northern California. After four days jet skiing, hiking and hanging with friends in Lake Tahoe, and a weeklong reunion in Oregon, I made the long drive down to Sonoma, California to visit mom. Passed cow pastures and cornfields, the smell of hay and dry fennel, which grows wild on the hillside and along the side of the road, filled the air, tickled my senses and reminded me that no matter where I am, this is home...

En route, I called mom and asked her if she would be up for going out to Mexican food, because as any Californian that has transplanted themselves to New York knows, there’s no truly respectable Cali-Mexican food in New York (Rosa Mexican aside, but by California standards, it is preposterous to pay $20 for guacamole). Mom said 'no Mexican tonight', but promised that something better awaited my arrival… My curiosity was piqued.

Upon arriving in Sonoma I was greeted at mom’s house by 4 dozen fresh Tamales Bay oysters, a hot grill and a chilled bottle of Robert Sinsky Vin Gris. Who’s better than mom? Manolo Blahnik couldn’t create a finer pairing... As the embers glowed, my step-dad set to smashing garlic, melting butter and making quick work of red onions and summer squash for the grill; plus a big, crisp, green salad, all fresh from the local farmers market.

The Saucing Committee

For me, grilling is never merely a spectator sport so I couldn’t sit by idly watching as my step-dad set to martyring 48 oysters. I jumped right in and we placed the oysters on the grill; tongs, garlic butter and barbeque sauce close at hand. With a whiz, pop and a little splatter – the oysters unwittingly opened their mouths to reveal the treasure within. We quickly removed their top shells, brushed them with the garlic butter and bbq sauce and pulled them off of the grill. Trying to remove the shell of a hot oyster with tongs (without losing all the luscious juice, or losing the oyster entirely through the grates of the grill) is akin to trying to build a house of cards after downing four Grande Triple Shot Lattes from Starbucks… it just doesn’t work. So I relinquished the tongs and, much to the chagrin of my overprotective mother, began working the oysters with my bare hands (they really weren’t THAT hot) and within a few minutes I had not only taken command of the grill, but earned the respect of the men…

*Behold the Glory*

After a few exploding oysters, we second guessed our earlier mocking of safety goggles but none of us were willing to leave the excitement of the grill to actually go and find a pair… Besides, that would make me feel about as much safer as I feel right now, watching a lovely, frail grandmother pouring salad dressing on her salad at gate 9A, with an inspector looking menacingly over her shoulder… But I digress. In less than time than it takes to say "cavity search" a feast awaited, and nary a thing to wash! We polished off the Sinksy Vin Gris and moved on to an Eden Vale Pinot Noir. The friends that had brought the oysters promised fresh caught salmon and elk steaks for the next nights grill-off... So good to be home. So, so, so good to be home…

On the Horizon

It’s been over three months since I’ve set foot on a boat, and what an adventure land life is… I missed New York’s ethnic markets so much before I’d left on my Caribbean voyage; but to tromp through China Town in the dog days of summer, or to get in a taxi cab even, is a full-frontal olfactory assault. My eyes sear from the smells walking down the street and my sinuses have crawled into the back of my head seeking refuge. I’m afraid my adenoids have gone on sabbatical, never to return. I’m not attuned to this city life anymore and I’m feeling slightly out of step…

Friends have offered me catering work, job referrals, even the opportunity to buy out my former employers’ gourmet food business. But I feel like a ghost in the material world – the light beckons me, and that light is the sun reflecting off of the clear, cool waters of the Caribbean. I can’t possibly imagine doing anything else… Land is nice, sea is better…

Through the wonders of internet (Skype and email), I’ve been keeping in touch with my yachty friends from the Caribbean who are now scattered about the globe; the Mediterranean, Adriatic, South Pacific and New England. They’ve been asking when I’ll be able to return to the boat world and keeping me abreast of their adventures…

I’d met a gal in St. Martin she was one of my roommates at the crew house and had come from South Africa to join a yacht as a stewardess. She had every proof of employment from the yacht, but had to go to Barbados to get her B1-B2 visa before she started her position. Upon arriving in Barbados, she was denied her work visa because the consulate said that she didn’t have enough ties to South Africa and was afraid she wouldn’t return. An unfortunate predicament for many South Africans yachties that I’d met along the way… To add insult to injury, upon returning to St. Martin, her passport was taken by authorities at the airport because they said she only had a single entry visa. They gave her two weeks to remain in the country and informed her that she could not have her passport back until she was leaving…

The crew house and yachty circuit was abuzz with her dilemma. We were brainstorming on what we could do to get her passport back, get her a work visa, etc. It’s St. Martin, there had to be an official that we could bribe… The boat she was to be employed on couldn’t pull any strings and couldn’t employ her. I left for Antigua and my friend’s day of departure back to South Africa was close at hand… So, I was thrilled to get an email from her recently that she had gotten a job as a decky aboard another yacht. The captain was able to get her passport back and secure her a B1-B2 visa for the trip to Florida, as well as a Shengen visa for the Mediterranean. She’d just taken some time off and been traveling around England and Italy and sounded like she was having a great time!

Some friends that I had made in Grenada and sailed back up to St. Martin with are based on a boat in Annapolis and they came up and spent a week with me here in New York. A few weeks later they sailed into Sag Harbor and dropped off a charter. I met up with them and as we cruised out to the yacht on the dinghy, the wind in my face, I felt at home again…

Over the course of the past month my knee has gotten much, much better and after an MRI, the doctor has said that I don’t need surgery! I’ve been doing physical therapy two days a week as well as a litany of exercises every day at home. Don’t be fooled, p.t. does not stand for physical therapy, it stands for PAIN and TORTURE! I go back to the doctor tomorrow and am hoping that he will tell me that I can go back to work soon…

I won’t be rejoining the boat in the Mediterranean. Unfortunately they couldn’t hold my position open indefinitely and so I’ve been replaced (not that I can be replaced, but apparently, I can)… Ahhh, but life goes on. I’ve already had inquiries as to my availability from other boats that I worked on in the Caribbean that are now on the East Coast of the United States. And from what I’ve heard through other yachties, there is just as much work available here as there was down in the Caribbean. So, as soon as I get the green light from the doctor I’m going to head down to Florida and meet with some crew agencies, walk the docs and frequent the local yachty haunts to inquire about work…

Mmmm, I can almost smell the salty air (and taste the cold beer)…

Suffice to say, my sea legs are gone. It's going to take some time to re-adjusting, but hopefully my next adventure won't be quite as harrowing as this previous season... No 30 foot seas, please. Been there, done that...

Well anyway, I know I’m a slacker of a blogger… But stay tuned, the next adventure of The Wayward Chef is just over the horizon!

NATHAN 54:12

This 4^th of July comes at a time when our country struggles with a war that has divided its people, a political crisis in the White House and growing racial and religious intolerance. But it’s comforting to know that even through these troubled times; the people of our great nation can put aside their cultural, political and religious differences and come together in unity to revel in one of America’s greatest pastimes; that of Competitive Eating.

And no, I don’t mean stuffing your face at the family barbeque, although I’m sure many of you were holding eating and drinking contests of your own. What I mean is the great, the history making, annual Nathan’s Hot Dog Eating Contest in Coney Island.

I was tempted to enter myself, but as I’m working to restore my body to its pre-Caribbean luster, I’ve given up meat (temporarily, mind you), tobacco (permanently, god-willing), and alcohol (well, not really. I have to have one vice.). And despite my pleads and calls that the judges were being discriminatory, they weren’t willing to make an exception with zucchini’s and cucumbers in place of hotdogs for fear of inciting the already overheated, overweight, beer swilling, carnivorous mob that had gathered for this years event.

I did, however, make one exception to my newly adopted “healthy lifestyle” and sucked down a dog with onions, kraut and mustard while I stood among the unwashed masses and waited for the contest to begin. The hot dog hit my stomach like a rock and remained there the rest of the day as a gentle reminder that healthy living and highly processed meat byproducts just don’t mix.

Despite my inability to convince the judges to offer a vegetarian option for the contestants, the games went on… The crowd hopeful that 22-year old Joey Chestnut, of San Jose, California would break the 5-year reign of Japan’s Emperor of competitive eating, Takeru Kobayashi. The race was neck in neck as the contestants sucked down dog after dog. Chestnut was in the lead for the first half of the contest and the crowd roared, “Joey, Joey”. Kobayashi using the “Solomon Method” he developed in 2001, breaking each dog in half, eating the two halves at once, then dipping the bun in water and eating that, left Joey in the dust as Kobayashi downed each dog with Ninja-like precision and a nimble gullet. Once again, Kobayashi held on to his title with 53.75 hot dogs in 12 minutes. That’s roughly 10 lbs. of, ummm, "meat".

The average American consumes 115 lbs. of red meat per year. Kobayashi consumed 11.5% of the national average in just 12 minutes.

And the prize for winning the “International” Nathan’s Hot Dog Eating Contest? Two cases of Nathan’s franks.

On second thought, maybe I really don’t need to eat meat. Ever, ever again…

A Curry A Day...

As I recoup back here in NYC and await my knee surgery, I have time to test out some new recipes – a little re-organizing of the kitchen and I can sit and do my prep.

My mind is wandering though lately, the sense of wanderlust and adventure creeping back in… I found myself in Union Square, standing in the middle of a pedestrian/taxi/bike-messanger traffic jam, thinking how nice it would be if the concrete would just simply melt into sand, and the glut of people and taxi’s were instead schools of brightly colored tropical fish. I imagined, all too vividly, slipping into the warm, crystalline waters of the Caribbean…

But the blazing of taxi horns and the smell of exhaust ripped my cruelly back into reality...

I’ve heard rumors that I can buy canned callaloo here in the city, not too keen on canned, but then a friend told me that she saw fresh callaloo at an ethnic market in Queen’s. This rumor definately warrants further investigation...

It doesn’t look like I’ll be making it back to the boat world this season, which is incredibly frustrating, but it’s giving me plenty of time to research new recipes. Perhaps by satiating my taste buds with sufficiant varieties of Caribbean and other ethnic foods I can quelle my growing restlessness until, once again, I can head to bluer waters...

I found Christophine in the market in Brooklyn China Town the other day. Here in the States it is called Choyote squash, but doesn’t really resemble a squash at all. Its taste and texture are a cross between cucumber and kohlrabi. I bought some and made tangy Thai pickles out of them to go with my curry – they worked really nicely and were much crispier than using cucumbers.

Christophine/Choyote Squash:

If you happen to find them in the store, no matter how you plan on preparing them, just remember to peel them first. And peel them under running water or you will get a serious rash all over your hands! In the Caribbean, they are often steamed and mashed with ginger and coconut milk or served raw in salads.

Here are the recipes for the Christophine Pickles and Coconut Thai Curry.

Tangy Thai Christophine Pickles:

2 Christophine, peeled, cored and sliced
1/2 Cup Hot Water
1/2 Cup Sugar
1 Teaspoon Salt
3 Shallots or 1/2 Red Onion, very thinly sliced (best using a mandalin)
1 Fresh Red or Green Thai Chili, thinly sliced

Combine hot water, sugar and salt and stir until dissolved. Add vinegar and allow to cool to room temperature. In a large bowl add Christophine, Shallot and Chilies and pour over cooled vinaigrette. Chill at least 24 hours and serve cold. The Christophine hold up much better than cucumber and get better the longer they are pickled - I made mine four days ago and they just keep getting better, but I have no idea how long they will last (or if I can keep myself from eating them to find out)...

Thai Coconut Curry

2 Tablespoon Veggie Oil
1 Tablespoon Finely Chopped Garlic
2 Tablespoon Red Curry Paste
2 Cups Coconut Milk
2 Cups Chicken Broth
2 Teaspoon Curry Powder
2 Tablespoon Soy Sauce
1 Teaspoon Sugar
1 Teaspoon Salt
2 Tablespoons Fresh Squeezed Lime Juice
1/3 Cup Fresh Cilantro, Chopped

Optional:

1 Package Thick Fried Tofu
2 Small Carrots, Thinly Sliced
½ lb. Baby Bok Choy, Thinly Sliced (almost any veg will do)

Or:

1 lb. Boneless Chicken Thighs, cubed

Heat oil in a large, heavy bottomed pan. Add garlic and cook 2 minutes. Add curry paste and stir. If using chicken, add and cook 1 to 2 minutes. If using carrots or other thick veg that needs time to cook, add now (Bok Choy or other veggies that don’t require as much cooking time can be added after other ingredients so as not to overcook). Stir until meat/veg is combined with curry paste. Add coconut milk, chicken broth, curry powder, soy sauce, sugar and salt. Bring to a simmer. (Add chicken and simmer until cooked through or add any remaining veggies and cook until veggies are done). Stir in lime juice.

Serve with jasmine rice, thin rice noodles or thick Chinese egg noodles. Garnish with fresh cilantro.

It's only a flesh wound...

More posts to come...

But for my friends and family who are reading, here's the diagnosis:

1 - Bone fragment in my knee
2 - Torn MCL
3 - Partially torn or sprained ACL
4 - Cartilage damage
5 - Frozen joint.

Have to get an MRI, then it's looking like surgery...

It All Started with the Green Garlic Soup

I remember from a very young age looking upon it with disdain when my parents would make me bring my leftovers home from a restaurant. I hated having leftovers and I didn’t see it as my fault that restaurants served such large portions so I felt absolutely zero obligation to eat the inferior remains of yesterday’s meal. Leftovers also meant playing a game of evasion until I could cunningly hide my “To Go” sack in the garbage bin, and hope that the powers that be wouldn’t notice that yesterday’s leftovers had suddenly gone missing. Who wants to eat soft tacos that used to be crispy, or a burger with a soggy bun? I would ignore and ignore the stockpile of To Go containers, aluminum swans and Tupperware stacking up in the fridge - until the inevitable - Leftover Night. Once a week, whatever was left in the refrigerator, no matter how ripe or old, was stuck in the microwave and an insipid mound of mystery food would end up on my plate. In a battle of wills against my father, I would sit at the dinner table until 11’oclock at night waiting it out until one of us caved, postponing the inevitable for yet another day... Leftover Night, for me, was a barbaric form of torture; much like wearing pantyhose or getting a Brazilian Bikini Wax, only without the benefits. But this weekend, for the first time in 34 years, that all changed…

It all started yesterday with the Green Garlic Soup. A pureed soup, but not cream based, and laced with crème fraiche was silky and luxurious on the tongue; rich, but not heavy and with a gorgeous jade hue. The aroma of the soup was heady yet subtle, everything I liked about garlic and nothing I didn’t. Green garlic (or Spring Garlic, as it is also known), the immature shoot and bulb of the white garlic you buy in the grocery store, resembles scallions or spring onions. The shoot can be used in the same manner as scallions and can also be sautéed or grilled. It is much more delicate and subtle in flavor than their mature counter part, and completely lacks the pungency of mature garlic. In fact, I would be willing to eat it on a first date – even if I really liked the guy…

The restaurants name is Harvest Moon, a new restaurant on the Sonoma Square. The interior is comfortable yet sophisticated with washed yellow walls, olive branch sconces and dark, heavy wood tables. It opened in March and the chef-owner was previously at Chez Panisse in Berkeley. His food couldn’t better pay homage to the Alice Waters philosophy; fresh, local produce used in innovative yet simple ways to coax out and highlight, rather than cover up, the true nature of the ingredient. The bucatini pasta with sautéed nettles, artichoke hearts and ricotta salata was unique, flavorful and delicious. The nettles had an herbaceous yet nutty flavor to them and the dish had the perfect compliment of ingredients. The braised lamb with a hint of cinnamon and star-anise and served atop a rich ragu of French green lentils was meltingly good.

With little pleading, I was able to convince my mom, step-dad and same two friends who had gone last night - to go again tonight. I had to try the slow cooked squid with chickpeas and the halibut was calling my name.

The squid was cooked in red wine until it was soft and succulent. The chickpeas were firm yet creamy and were doused in a thick garlic sauce that should’ve been illegal. I had originally ordered the steamed halibut with mussels, clams, greens, harissa and charmoula but fortunately they were out and so I had the quail instead. Cooked to perfection, the quail had all the flavor of the grill and yet, thankfully, was not burnt nor undercooked – as is often the case. It was served atop a ragu of fresh fava beans and artichoke hearts, also cooked to perfection, and accompanied by grilled polenta that was slightly crispy on the outside, soft and creamy on the inside, and with a few nice stripes of char on it providing a lovely, smoky flavor and exhibiting for the first time that grilled polenta needn’t taste like particle board, and when prepared properly, can actually be divine.

Even with the quail being such a small bird, I still was not able to finish my meal and I wanted the flavors to linger... It was so perfectly prepared and so delicious that, for the first time in 34 years, I willingly asked the waiter to “pack it up” for me so that I could take it home and before we even left the restaurant I was already imagining eating it. Then, the inevitable happened. We arrived home and as I walked in the front door – I realized that I had forgotten my wonderful little parcel of leftovers at the restaurant… Perhaps saving me a game of hide-and-seek...

I’m fortunate though that the restaurant is right next to my mom’s jewelry store on the Sonoma Square. Hopefully next time I visit they will be open for lunch as well so I won’t be limited to eating there only once a day…

Harvest Moon Café
487 First Street West
Sonoma, Ca. 95476

~~~

The update on my knee is that, along with the tear to my ligament, I also have a frozen joint. My physical therapist works me like a rented mule but I’m still not able to get my leg straight. I’ll be going for an MRI this week, talking to a doctor and deciding if surgery is the next step...

Fun update!

In a previous post, “Bequia and the Return of the Prodigal Sons”, I had written about sailing from St. Martin to Bequia and how, just off of Martinique, we’d come across a seafaring rowboat with a Canadian couple aboard. At first we thought it was a life raft and we might be rescuing someone, but when we asked them if they were ok they said that they were just fine and they were rowing to Costa Rica! We came across them on Thursday, February 2^nd, 2006.

Today while searching the web I came across a website for the couple. They are circumnavigating the globe entirely on human power – rowing, biking and walking! When we saw them they were just 22 days away from completing a transatlantic crossing that took them nearly 6 months! They actually rowed into Limon, Costa Rica (from Portugal) on February 24, 2006 - twenty two days from the day we saw them!

Check out their adventure - you can read about them and see pictures. Presently, they are biking across North America and are expected to finish up their circumnavigation on May 21, 2006.

Their home page:
http://www.expeditioncanada.com/expedition.htm

Pictures of the transatlantic crossing in the row boat:
http://www.expeditioncanada.com/photos/thumbnails.php?album=40

Unfortunately, I get seasick looking at a bowl of soup so no rowboat crossings for me...