rasslin' scenarios and other things lit'rary.

OK, that's enough summer, thank you, it's been great!!! Yesterday was really fucking hot, like 88°F, and very little was helpful in terms of making anything better. I almost went into the ocean. Instead I consoled myself with some more sardines: fried with very little coating and served with a slice of lemon, some pickled cabbage, and a sauce they call ravigote, which is usually like a tartar sauce but this was more like a creamy dill mayonnaise. Whatever you call it, it's not really the star of the show, the fish are, and though they're not much to look at, they were yet again pretty perfect beach food.

Also, as you can see above, I kind of fucked up my "avoiding the crowds" schedule yesterday by getting to Central Station and not being 100% sure I turned the coffeepot off. After spending a good 10 minutes weighing the pros and cons of A) missing my train, going all the way back home and losing an hour of precious morning beach time only to discover that sigh of course I turned the coffee off, versus B) spending my day at the beach imagining flames billowing out of our apartment window, the cats dying of smoke inhalation and the entire building burning down...I chose the former. It's really a no-win situation once the image of the still-on coffeepot pops into your head: if you don't go back and check, you are most certainly inviting the attention of The Great Magnet. I probably don't need to tell you that the coffeepot was, as expected, not on.

Today: I have rarely looked to forward to a thunderstorm as much as I am looking forward to the one forecast for this afternoon.

hit me.

On my way through Westerpark to see Filmhuis Cavia's showing of an actual 16mm celluloid copy of Blue Velvet at the Buurtboerderij, complete with speed and focus problems. An unexpected bonus was the ambient stereo environment provided by a herd of live goats several meters away and a house music festival off in the distance. All this sonic goodness was followed by a gig I didn't say yes to, which is still a hard thing to do (not saying yes), but during the movie gentle waves of gratefulness kept lapping at my feet while I focused on nothing else but the story in front of me.

severe weather alert.

People say that Zandvoort is too shittily overcrowded to enjoy in the summer. I don't know. It's what, €6.20 round trip (unless you value airco and an absence of moaning, sticky children, then it's €10.40 for first class)? Seems like if you leave your house at 8:45am, have your toes in the sand and your nose in a book by 9:45am, have a pile of (sadly unphotographed) fresh fried sardines and a beer (or two) at noon, and then head home at 1:30pm just as everyone (and I do mean everyone) else is showing up....you could do worse. And then after a quick nap you can, you know, get some work done if that's your kind of thing.

occupy yourself.

Above: 4pm, after an industrious morning of 1970s-era copying and faxing at home, we find ourselves in the amazingly clean and placid Red Light. Below: 5pm, we find ourselves roughly 20 feet away at Mata Hari for one mint tea, one beer, and six bitterballen. Below that: 9:15pm, back home, evening stroll with surprisingly great gelatos from our neighbor Doardi: blood orange, caramel, pistachio and chocolate.

+++

hot summer night.

 

It was a hot summer night indeed and no this isn't another Meat Loaf post. By the time Le Men left last night I'd figured out one definite way to do at least one variation on a great two-ply lavash "pizza" (two-ply meaning that it's a lavash that could be carefully opened and stuffed if you so desired, but we do not so desire). I'm documenting the technique here a bit more obsessively than usual because I didn't get it right until pizzas number four and five last night and I know that in a week or two I'll never remember what I did.

Here it is: for the marinara version, use a preheated broiler, a rack in the middle of the oven; all the toppings on at the beginning, the toppings in this case being a very light drizzle of olive oil focusing on the edges not the center, one ball of 49-cent mozzarella torn and distributed evenly, really no more than 6 tbsp of good thick homemade marinara sauce distributed evenly, a sprinkle of salt and pepper, and a dusting of pul biber. Possibly a sprinkletje of parmesan or pecorino or grana padano if you're a cheap bastard like me.

Put your lavash on a pizza pan. Broil for 4 minutes; observe; broil for another 2-4 minutes or until your edges reach maximum tolerable blacknuss and your mozzarella has some color. This version can't be finished with another drizzle of olive oil or everything gets too wet, but non-marinara versions certainly can and should be. Throw a quick pinch of salt at it and start biting.

Or, the new and improved method I think: a preheated broiler, rack in the middle of the oven. Brush your lavash everywhere with good olive oil. Put your hard grated cheeses on there and some black pepper. Throw it in the oven for 2 minutes. Take it out, put your soft cheeses and other toppings on there (unless they're herbs then save them for last), and put it in for another 4 minutes. Have a peek at it, it could be ok here, or maybe it can go another minute from here, 2 at most. Take it out, throw on the herbs. So 6-8 minutes total. OK, back to the original post. 

With the broil method, things happen fast: I literally assembled and cooked 3 pizzas in 30 minutes (I mean yes, my more complicated toppings were prepared beforehand but cheeses were grated and torn "to order"). Oh and your toppings need to be at least room temperature if not warmer b/c everything's only in the oven for 6-8 minutes.

The versions I did last night:

1) The above, what I would call pizza marinara instead of margherita because the tomato sauce is slow-cooked and garlicky, I always thought a pizza margherita used pretty fresh tomatoes. I think it's an American thing. Not motivated to research atm.

2) Pizza ai funghi with garlic, rosemary, taleggio, grana padano. Might be helpful to freeze the taleggio first for easier grating. This was maybe my favorite of the night, though the taleggio could be too strong for some tastes. Tonight since we didn't have any more taleggio we did a version with gruyere, mozzarella and pecorino that was totally super.

3) That kale + artichoke + lemon + pesto + mozzarella thing. I liked it, but yeah somehow it's not quite right, it distractingly doesn't taste like pizza, too tart maybe.

4) Caramelized onion, caramelized endive, roasted figs in balsamic with shallots, gorgonzola, mozzarella. This was the most luxe idea of the night, almost a dessert pizza and really good. Not totally sure it needs the mozzarella.

5) I didn't really do more than taste the other pizzas last night due to time constraints, so I made myself another #1 while I cleaned the kitchen.

A note on cheapness: this was a pretty inexpensive way to feed a small group at a leisurely pace, but only because the Dirk has a decent mozzarella for 49 cents apiece, 1 ball per pizza. I was prepared to make like 8 with mozz, so I spent 4 bucks. Tomatoes, 4 cans: 1.60. Onions: 2 bucks. Figs: on sale for 6 for a euro. Endive also on sale 8 for a euro. The "gorgonzola" was actually Danish blue, shhh don't tell, 1 euro. Grana padano: 2 euro. Taleggio: 2.50. Aritchokes, 1 can: 1.79. Lavash: 50 cents for 6 of them. So less than 20 euroskis in totale for something like 12 "pizzas", I'd figure on two per person if that's all you're eating.

+++

fortieth.

I don't know if this ever happens to the hypothetical you but once in a while when I'm not doing incredibly useless shit, I try to use The Internets to research something semi-valid. In this case it was something from my childhood that was so out of focus in the eye of my memory that I had almost no actual data to start piecing together. And at the same time I knew that whatever it was my mind was trying to remember was of some kind of semi-profound formative influence.

So in this particular case it was a book, a book I literally hadn't given one single thought to for years and years, and I have no idea what got me started thinking about it. But once it oozed into my mind, I started trying to remember more details about it, and once I did I could almost physically re-feel the unease and building dread I experienced reading it in bed, at night (stupidly): dread verging on outright childish horror. I can't imagine how old I was, somewhere between five and ten I guess, but I know that for me this book was the primary source of those "don't go into the basement" feelings that almost everyone with a basement seems to have (I have no idea what room kids without basements are afraid of).

OK here's so the Google montage (various quickly-cut and exciting camera angles of me alternately typing furiously or staring off into space thinking, then cutting to letters appearing in the Search box and then "Access Denied" kind of uninformative results): the first very gauzy re-reremberance I had was of some vague but horrific black liquid; a terrifying door; a grave or graves; and something about the word Omega. Then I pretty quickly remembered that the main character was a boy named Lewis. This is not enough information to find anything. Next some sort of impulse/vision of a kind woman with a refined name, and the fact that Lewis was nearsighted (and of course his glasses would habitually fall off at the scariest possible moment so that he had to cower in blind terror while he waited for the tentacles of impending horribleness to reach him).

This was all like weeks ago and after let's call it "several" fruitless Googles and some serious mental time trying to crystallize more detail, I forgot about it until about 20 minutes ago. I then tried my same old Lewis black Omega horror query but shortly thereafter somehow suddenly remembered that Lewis had a weight problem, for some reason the word "chubby" came into my mind, and finally the magic query: young chubby nearsighted lewis miss omega horror grave door revealed that in 1973, forty years ago, a man named John Belllairs started a series of books that introduced a character named Lewis Barnavelt, and for fuck's sake the book that made me forever apprehensive about basements was called The House With A Clock In Its Walls, a pretty good title for a scary book, amazingly enough with pretty ominous artwork by longtime fave Edward Gorey, such a great surprise (we decided long ago that Mara is The Doubtful Guest).

Here's a lovely Onion AV Club article about the book, comparing House to another Gorey favorite, The Gashlycrumb Tinies, and confirming that I was neither alone in my youthful terror nor in my current half-remembered curiosity. It's interesting to me that this style of horror—slow-building, implied, atmospheric unease—is still absolutely one of my favorite things. As is Edward Gorey. Maybe my mother can remember approximately what year I was allowed to torture myself with this, but my point is: hey look, a totally satisfying use of the Google Wire.

+++

romescoredux.

Above: me roasting macerated fresh clearance figs at 7am. Not because I have to! Because I want to. Well I do kind of have to if I want to cook with them, because they don't really taste like much in their natural state. But it's not like I woke up early to roast figs is what I'm saying.

Maybe it's just me, but just about every fresh fig I've ever tasted has been somewhere between disappointing (the better ones) and tasteless (the rest), of course except for these, but yes I can figure out why those were so good.

The attempted solution for today's figs: roasting them in an as-low-as-possible oven for 2 hours. Then I think I'm going to dice them (I know it's a shame cause they're pretty, but it's pizza, ingredients need to be a chompable size/shape) and let them sit in some balsamic vinegar for a while. Possibly a shallot or two. Maybe even reduce that whole business if I feel ambitious.

 +++

And oh yeah this post was supposed to be about rescuing this romesco recipe from the vaults.

+++

sauce boy, part xviii.

Trying this lavash "pizza" idea from way back again tomorrow, toppings as yet undecided.

Well shit, all of my lavash suppliers are on vacation all of the sudden. Wtf people.

OK, we cool, that little corner Turk near Van Hallstraat sorted a brother out. Now what we gone do? Wellllll, I'm thinking like this:

1) Pizza marinara. I'm making the sauce now.
2) Something with parmigiano, artichokes, kale, lemon, and almonds (and mozzarella). I've been fixated on this since I made that rice the other day.
3) Maybe this, mushrooms, garlic, rosemary, taleggio, etc.
4) I bought an assload of endive (witlof) at the Avondmarkt because it was on sale. I should do something with that. I also bought some fresh figs b/c I'm stupid and they were like 20 cents each. Maybe roasted fig, a little gorgonzola, sauteed endive, mascarpone?

5) I really want to make this and put it on a pizza. And then eat it. And then nap for a long time.

Here are the baking times for the lavash. 

+++

I've got a new ingredient crush: pul biber.

It's not really "sambal poeder", although I can see what they're trying to say: it's dried red chile, fire-roasted and actually not ground into powder, but kind of coarsely crushed into flakes. There aren't many seeds at all, so the chile flavor is really pronounced instead of the heat. Sambal-ish poeder.

+++

fassoulia.

Went into the center yesterday for a drinkie-poo and some sun with the Moop and the KK, ended up on the Leliegracht at Spanjer & Van Twist, where I think I have never ever been before. Pleasant enough place to drink and chat, though in terms of food I'm not sure it would ever be wise to venture beyond the "fried" portion of the menu.

That little neck of the woods sure is picaresque (sic) though. OK, here are some options for tonight's North African-Jewish idea, another Saveur ripoff.

+++

boulettes de poisson.

400g cod or haddock
½ cup very finely chopped almonds, or almond flour
¼ cup finely chopped parsley
1 tsp ground cumin
½ tsp ground coriander
¼ tsp ground ginger
5 cloves garlic, finely chopped
1 egg, lightly beaten
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste

2 tbsp butter
3 tbsp tomato paste
2 cups stock (I used chicken)
2 cups whole, peeled canned tomatoes with juice, crushed
1 tsp sugar, plus more to taste
1/2 tsp cayenne
1 tsp crushed red chile flakes (I used pul biber)
1/2 tsp ground allspice

1/2 cup chopped cilantro for serving

I served it with buttered rice, yogurt probably would've been good too. These were the "meatiest" fishballs I've ever encountered, not in a bad way.

+++

fassoulia (long-cooked green beans in tomato sauce).

1 large onion, chopped
6 cloves garlic, chopped
1/2 tsp garlic powder
2 tbsp olive oil
1/2 tsp cumin
400g fresh string beans or runner beans
1 can diced tomatoes (2 cups or so)
1 cup beef or vegetable broth
salt and pepper

Cook for 45 minutes.

+++

creole seasoning.

Made a bunch of it b/c Brigtsen's Jalapeño Shrimp Cornbread (below) called for it, recipes for both to follow. With a dollop (yes Vicky) of Creole butter (and/or ancho-maple butter? Frank's Hot Sauce + peach salsa? it would benefit from some optional tangy/sweet liquid-y element) and a side of Brunswick stew or really good chili, this would be completely brutal. As it is, it was a great way to get a tamale fix without all the work of real tamales.

+++

creole seasoning. 

2 tsp onion powder (I found it at the Dirk)
2 tsp garlic powder
2 tsp dried oregano
2 tsp black pepper
1 tsp dried thyme

1 tsp cayenne pepper
1 tsp dried basil or marjoram
1 tsp celery salt (found it at Albert Cuyp)
5 tsp sweet (also known as "regular") paprika

This version is a special Amsterdam blend, just the tiniest bit on the salty side b/c celery seed is harder to find than celery salt, at least it was for me. I haven't A/B tested this against the "Cajun" spice you see in grocery stores here, I imagine that that one adds sugar and MSG/e621.

+++

jalapeño shrimp cornbread.

6 tbsp unsalted butter, melted,
plus more for greasing and serving

4 scallions, finely chopped
1 jalapeño chile, or failing that, 2 green Holland chiles,
stemmed, seeded, and finely chopped
2 cloves garlic, finely chopped

400g raw medium shrimp, finely chopped
1 tsp Creole seasoning (recipe above)

1/3 cup whole-wheat flour
or possibly almond flour,
but we have to test the latter

2/3 cup yellow corn meal
2 tbsp raw/turbinado sugar

pinch salt
(be careful if your Creole seasoning is salty
like ours was)
1½ tsp baking powder
1½ tsp baking soda
1 cup buttermilk
1 egg
healthy couple grindz of freshly ground black pepper, to taste

extra large ramekins

+++

cherry bomb.

This Saveur article is what restarted my thinking about escabeches, well that and the temperature. It's finally hot here, so the idea of eating something vinegary out of the fridge sounds even better than usual. Maybe I'll eventually write down this turkey escabeche I made Friday night (oregano, habanero, cumin, cinnamon, allspice, vinegar, garlic, onion), but yes it may have to wait.

While I was poking about on the Saveur website I started looking at their picnic recipes, since etc what I said before about the temperature, and found this interesting-looking rice salad, also timely b/c Mara came into a bunch of cherries (that's what I said) and I've got kale and basil and spinach sitting around wilting and so I am making it right now. I'm unsure about the artichoke and cherry combo, that part sounds drug-induced, but will give it a try. Preliminary tasting results very positive (everything except cherries, almonds, and artichokes). Other items on the menu: Ottolenghi's smashed garlic cucumbers and that ol' beet carpaccio with feta. And maybe something with shrimp. We gwine be stinkee in our damn mouf.

+++

And later: cherries provided a beauteeful visual contrast but as suspected were unnecessary and/or distracting in terms of taste. They are now off macerating somewhere instead of participating in this recipe. Artichokes on the other hand were a great addition and almonds would probably also work nicely, but it was also great without them, this ended up being really one of my favorite things I've made recently.

kale and brown rice salad with basil and cherries.

1 cup loosely packed basil leaves
4 cloves garlic
1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil
juice of 1 lemon
1 and 1/2 tbsp raw/turbinado sugar

2 cups cooked brown rice
1 cup frozen chopped kale, drained
1 cup loosely packed fresh spinach leaves, chiffonaded or roughly chopped.
4 to 8 artichoke hearts, rinsed well, drained and quartered
1/2 cup toasted almonds, slivered or roughly crushed
1 cup or maybe even 2 cups cherries, pitted and halved, or quartered if you have time and patience

+++

corpuconia.

Above: cheap Belgian strawberries, now macerating.

+++

Yesterday's bargain cauliflower got turned into deconstructed risotto al cavolfiore: in one pan, roasted cauliflower, onions and celery; in another pan, your basic risotto with parmesan. On the table for serving: more parmesan, freshly-chopped parsley and an almond-rosemary "pangrattato". Assemble and chomp.

This pangrattato thingie makes everything it comes in contact with better. I realize that my instructions below are not what you might call "useful", but basically I just started with a (biggish) handful of almonds and some rosemary leaves and an anchovy and three chiles, and then just kept adding anchovies and chiles until it was salty enough and spicy enough. Use your tongue is what I'm saying.

Here's what the pil-pil peppers look like:

+++

almond "pangrattato". 

1/2 or 3/4 cup toasted almonds
1 or 2 anchovy filets packed in oil
1 mangy branch of kinda dried-out rosemary that's been sitting around, or maybe 1/2 tsp actual professionally-dried rosemary
4 tiny dried red chiles, the "pil-pil" kind

Pulse a couple times in a processor (I used our wonderful HandiChop or whatever it's called), taste for seasoning, use more anchovy to increase your saltiness.

+++

night(s) of the hunter.

The Calico Assassin has been handed her first assignment: we seem to have a mouse in the house. Maybe because Andy and Valentina are on vacation (thus no new mouse food showing up at their place) and that's the mice's normal cat-free hangout.

Who knows why he/she/they are here, but the situation is upsetting the delicate ecosystem of 100M. Mačka aka Calico Death has barely slept for the past three days, she is 100% committed to finding this dang mouse while being at the same time 0% closer to actually catching any dang mice. Among the things she has been successful at is demolishing the dang lower levels of the dang bookshelf behind which she is certain the dang mouse is hiding. Basically she just leaves a trail of (dang) destruction everywhere she thinks the mouse might be.

I wish I could say that her detecting/stalking skills are somehow improving but frankly she shows no real aptitude for any aspect of the whole thing. It took her about an afternoon to figure out how to move a stack of DVDs six inches out of the way, and as I write this she has wedged herself half-upside-down into an impractically small space for some kind of retarded immobile stakeout.

This bull-in-a-china-shop routine is kind of cute, now, in the daylight of afternoon, but when/if the perp appears and any action actually goes down, which it probably won't until we're in bed if ever, I'm certain Calico Death will shoot out of her hiding place like a badly-designed rocket and crash directly and loudly into whatever happens to be nearby, which will scare the shit out of all the apartment's occupants, including Calico Death.

On a more serene note, tonight's foodstuff  is Fancy Hotdogs (real German bratwurst!) with sauteed onions, chipotle crema, mustard, ketchup, pickled fennel, American processed cheese food, pineapple salsa, and basically whatever the fuck else we feel like putting on or near the brats in question. Plus hand-cut artisanal homemade etc fries. Film of the day: Close Encounters of the Third Kind, somehow we hadn't seen it before. Kind of a Piece of Poop.

+++

pickled fennel.

1 fennel bulb, mandolined
1 tsp fennel seed, toasted
1 tsp coriander seed, toasted
vinegar
salt
sugar
water

+++

seriously grrr.

It's time to finally admit that we have become rice eaters. Brown rice, specifically. It snuck into our diet as a gluten-free replacement for the bulgur we'd started eating a few years ago instead of white rice (long story), and lately we've been eating a lot of it, but we've almost been preparing it like it's something to be ashamed of, barely acknowledging its presence, hoping no one will notice it there. "Oh, that? That's just the rice."

No more, I say! I'm actually going to make "a rice dish" this evening to go along with a roasted garlic-rosemary chicken an attempt at the Italian-American mystery that is shrimp scampi. I'll still be using Saveur's cooking technique for the rice but with ingredients lifted from Cook's Illustrated.

+++

brown rice with parmesan, lemon and herbs.

2 tbsp butter
1 small onion
1 cup brown rice
1.5 liters chicken broth
1/2 tsp black pepper
1/4 cup minced fresh parsley
1/4 cup fresh basil
1/2 cup grated parmigiano
1 tsp grated lemon zest
1/2 tsp lemon juice

possibly: pine nuts, currants

+++

reproduction thoroughly.

Last night's Japanese, which I should make a lot more often: tofu dengaku; Ottolenghi ginger-sesame cukes; salmon teriyaki; brown rice with butter and furikake; a little homemade wasabi mayo just in case. Not pictured: Bibb lettuce with Benihana dressing, really good.

BTW, I really can't say enough about Saveur's instructions for perfect brown rice, it's indeed perfect every time. Basically you cook the rice more like pasta: boil a lot of water (amount hypothetically doesn't matter but I use 1.5 liters for 1 cup of rice), rinse rice under cold water for 30 seconds, add rice to boiling water, boil uncovered for 30 minutes, dump rice into a strainer, drain for 10 seconds, return to pot and cover, steam for 10 minutes. Add butter and salt to taste.

+++

You know, lots of people are bitching about the weather here, but to myself I'm spinning it as "most productive summer ever". No distracting sunny days to take your mind off your to-do list, no nights tossing restlessly in the sweltering heat, etc. Just 55°F and cloudy.

+++

it's the time of the season for etc.

Above: Drew's Pub Quiz at The Tara (no longer anything resembling the Irish bar it used to be), our first night there, fun even though we came in dead last (we were the only two-person team). Drinkable-yet-affordable wine by the glass; pleasant people; moderately hard questions, etc. I'm sure we'll be back.

+++

I decided in bed this morning that the answer to the question "when is the best time to visit Amsterdam" is either June or December. I'm basing this strictly on cheap and unusual entertainment options: this month has been so full of potential shit to do we have been thoroughly spoiled for choice. And December is the winter version of June, this-wise.

So between season closings (English for this? it's when a regularly occurring concert series has their last night of the season before closing in July and August...the Dutch for this is seizoensafsluiting), overdue socializing, friends from out of town, and especially special shows for unfortunately recently dead people, tonight is our last quiet night at home for the next several days.

And thus we are trying to have something light and healthy, so I'll be trying to do something Japanese.

Less healthily: I'm also reminding myself to try and eat at The General Muir next time I'm in the ATL. Also the next time I'm celebrating some weight-loss milestone, I should make this sandwich with mortadella, smoked mozzarella and pistachio pesto.

+++

tofu dengaku.

400g tofu
3 tbsp miso
1 and 1/2 tbsp raw sugar
1 tbsp mirin
1 tbsp sake (I replaced the mirin and sake with 2 tbsp shao xing and a little extra sugar)
2 tbsp dashi

These are not my directions yet: wrap tofu with paper towels and place it on a flat tray. Put a cutting board or a plate on top the tofu and let sit for about 15 minutes. Meanwhile, mix dashi, sake, mirin, sugar, and miso in a sauce pan. Simmer it on low heat, stirring constantly until thickened. Set aside. Slice tofu into 1/2 inch thick rectangles and dry with paper towels. Lightly oil a baking tray for a toaster oven. Place tofu pieces on the tray. Cook tofu on high heat in the toaster oven for about 8 minutes, or until the surface is firm. Spread miso sauce on the tofu pieces and cook until sauce is warm.

+++

benihana salad dressing.

1/4 cup sweet onion
1 tbsp peanut or other neutral oil
2 tbsp mayonnaise

1/4 cup rice vinegar
1 tbsp minced fresh ginger
2 tbsp minced celery
1 tbsp ketchup
2 tsp soy sauce
2 tsp sugar
2 tsp lemon juice
1 tsp minced garlic
1/2 tsp salt
1/4 tsp ground black pepper

Process everything pretty thoroughly. This was really good.

+++

ode.

Those who know me will not be too too surprised by this, but I found myself thinking it as I was walking up the stairs today with two laden Dirk bags and yes obviously felt compelled to affirm it here in these pages: I love grocery shopping. It may be my current favorite regularly-occurring non-destructive activity, which I'm sure says as much about how I'm spending my time these days as it does about my household chore preferences.

This love of mine is of course the blessing and the curse, but I'm doing a pretty good job with the current grocery budget. A critical success factor here is that I'm the only household member who grocery shops now, this is on purpose, and it's just way better in terms of knowing what's in the fridge and disposing of leftovers and etc etc etc.

So tonight is a end-of-week fridgecleaner, the "baked Italian vegetable casserole". It's also the night I've decided to start referring to zucchini the way that non-Italian Europeans do and thus we are now calling it courgette, mostly because zucchini never ever looks like it's spelled right.

+++

baked courgette, mozzarella, red sauce. 

2 courgettes
2 balls mozzarella
can o' mushrooms, drained, chopped, browned
1 onion

nutmeg
smoked salt
black pepper

1 cup ricotta
16 good black olives, pitted, torn
3 cups red sauce I made earlier this week
20 fresh basil leaves

parmigiano for grating/dusting

+++

Other cooking instructions not so interesting, but I used Mara's suggested ingredient stratification and it was nice, it went like this, top to bottom:

mozzarella/parmigiano/sauce
courgette
sauce
ricotta/basil/olives
courgette
sauce
mushrooms/onions
mozzarella
courgette
sauce

+++

croccante di nocciole.

I'm making this very soon. I've got a big-ass bag of hazelnuts sitting around not getting any younger and a sugar tooth the size of the moon, also not getting any younger, etc.

I made this, and I have to say either my recipe or my technique's not perfect, or both. I don't know if the problem was my raw sugar (vs. white refined) or the 4 tbsp water I added or my impatience to be finished, but the caramel came out a little grainy and the end result isn't as toothshatteringly brittle as I would like.

I definitely should've read David Lebovitz's caramel primer first, but I'm not saying we're not going to eat our end results.

+++

taco tymez.

Since it's The Hottest Day Of The Year So Far, it's fish taco night. All the usual condiments will probably show up (chipotle slaw, pineapple-scallion salsa, guac, pico, etc) plus these two new experiments.

+++

radish and cucumber salsa.

5 radishes
1/2 a cucumber
1/3 cup cilantro
1-2 tbsp white vinegar
1 tbsp raw sugar
salt to taste

+++

peach + blood orange salsa.

2 small peaches
1 ripe tomato
1/4 red onion
juice of a lime
juice of one small blood orange
1/4 madame jeanette chile, seeded, or 1/2 tsp madame jeanette sauce
1 tbsp fresh mint
2 tbsp fresh cilantro
salt to taste

+++

tandewri.

Defrosted some jalfrezi sauce tonight and blasted this quick and convenient marinade onto some chicken for 4 hours or so, it wuz real nice and would probably work equally well on anything else. Quite obviously you will not be able to make this exact marinade unless you use our butcher.

+++

tandoorish marinade.

2 or 3 tbsp bright red tandoori spice mix from the butcher, whatever looks like the right amount for the amount of protein you have

2 balls preserved ginger, smashed or pressed through a garlic press

4 cloves garlic, crushed or pressed

juice of a lemon

1/2 cup yogurt

salt

500g of some protein

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zeedijking ii (nsfw).

"Drinks at 5, Mata Hari" was the directive. The three of us started out inside on the windowfront couch, but somehow the shady, blustery terrace proved irresistible. Eventually joining us at our windswept table were a few friendly Fines de Claire oysters with mignonette (€2.50 each, but kinda worth it) and an attractive plank of lekkernijen (tidbits or treats) arranged with cyclone-defying care: parma ham with arugula; various salami; grilled asparagus, aubergine, pumkpin, courgette, peppers; a Spanish tortilla with potatoes; a very nice piece of homemade cured salmon; buffala with pesto and pomegranate seeds; some above-average calamari rings; some crackers with slightly Indian-spiced pea/mint puree and a sun-dried tomato hummous.

Shockingly, it all tasted just as good as it looked or better. And the plank was totally reasonable at €17.50. This having been our third visit, we can confirm that someone at Mata Hari knows how to cook. We haven't had anything really "fancy", but the quality of everything we've tasted has been way above-average.

Then, despite having already enjoyed a totally reasonable amount of beer and socializing at Mata Hari, the three of us braved the tourists and luxury dildos of the Red Light to "get some sun" at In de Wildeman, because they still get sun at 8pm, Mara knew this. And, she was right, they did, and we did. Unfortunately we also sat down in the sun with the bar staff and continued ordering beer, ensuring that today's goals will involve tiny reasonable things like wobbling downstairs to the grocery store; strenuously opening a can of Coke; slowly selecting DVDs to fall asleep to; carefully putting frozen pizzas in the oven.

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cope's corn: bought and sold.

I assume this is another chapter in the continuing escapades of Corporations buying The Little Guys in order to tap into that cool niche-y artisan/indie market of "things made with care", then changing the product for the worse and afterwards pretending like nothing happened when customers complain. A representative comment from the Facebook page of Cope's Corn:

I wrote back in November and asked when you changed the canned Copes Corn product, but you said nothing had changed. I am back to say: I'm still sad you changed the product. No matter where I buy it or which label it has, it is still a completely different product. What's odd to me is that when I called and wrote, no one seemed aware that the anything had changed. I find that hard to believe, especially considering the new product is like ground animal feed corn, hard chunks and all (no kernels) in the same sauce. I wish someone would just say, "Yes. We changed the product." Honesty: A family tradition rich with Pennsylvania Dutch history. :)

Burn. NYT article about the original product here. This and this are the reasons I was paying attention in the first place.

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in a lonely place.

A Skype contact request for Mara:

"my name is, carter f. ham i am a man that is in need of real and perfect love, i need a woman that can take me through, i have been hurt so many times by different women and wouldn't want that to hap"

This is especially misguided because there is nothing about Mara's Skype profile to suggest that she is female or even human. She appears to be a small black bird of indeterminate sex.

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Nothing but failures in the kitchen tonight, wasn't planning on cooking, then it turned into "well actually the things in the fridge that need cooking are normally under my jurisdiction (courgette, sweet potato, green beans) so I'll cook...let's do Korean!" etc etc etc. Verging on bad.

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marvin lee aday.

This would be more Google Maps Street View, Antarctica this time. It's like the worst video game ever. You can't even interact with the penguins when you eventually find one (and there is one just to the left of that clot of three researchers or penguin preservers or whatever they are in red at roughly the 3 o'clock position above).

Here's Svalbard, a remote Norwegian archipelago. The red flags in the distance show where the "street" is.

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In my non-globetrotting hours yesterday, I made meat loaf for the first time (I typed meta loaf first, something else entirely). I was having this weird persistent craving for it, and Mara was all yeah yeah do it so I did it. It was the slowest, most careful meat loaf in history I think, because meat loaf is not known for being something you linger over in the kitchen, and yeah man I lingered.

I lingered b/c me, being me, never having made it, and me, having the humongous and still awesome Cook's Illustrated The New Best Recipe as my guide, wanted to make sure I was doing it right. I mean why bother using such an exceedingly anal-retentive cookbook if you're not going to do exactly wtf it says.

The most awesome and humongous thing I learned is that meat loaf is not at anywhere near its best when it comes out of the oven. It needs time to contract or something and I guess just relax for a while. The absolute best bite I had of it yesterday was at 11pm, five hours after it came out of the oven, and I don't think that's (just) the post-mirtazapine munchies talking, because this morning's bite at 6:30am was even better (and the bite I just had for lunch was even better, etc, it's really good now). I just don't think it should be any warmer than room temperature.

My adaptation of the recipe is gluten-free, with almond flour as the filler, and I think I didn't do much else different except bumping up some of the seasoning and omitting the, eh, bacon. And substituting arugula for the parsley b/c I didn't have any and don't ever reallly love it anyway.

Oh yis, the other awesome thing I learned was to not use a, eh, "loaf pan". This is what Cook's Illustrated is good for, they're the Mythbusters of the kitchen: turns out that if you follow conventional wisdom and use a loaf pan (can't stop saying it, loaf pan, loaf pan) for your loaf, the, ulp, "juices" will bubble up around the sides about halfway through the cooking time and ruin the sides of your glaze, which was actually the most critical component, the glaze was, so its non-ruination and general maximalization is an absolutely stellar thing to focus on. Ze recipe below will double ze glaze amounts and add a shot or two of Frank's to it for zest and zing.

And if we don't do that recipe again, we should do this one.

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day 60.

Hi I'm Mark. When I'm not wasting time in one of forty-seven more normal ways to do so, you can find me navigating through African beach towns I never intend to visit via Google Maps Street View.

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Just a little Note To Self initiated by an especially good night of sleep: 15mg mirtazapine at 9:45pm, 0.8mg melatonin at 10pm. Asleep by 11:30pm, awake at 8:15am (thank you kitties), feeling super duper.

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bites in de pijp.

A few weeks back I thought I was going to meet a visiting friend for dinner, and there were a couple of important considerations: she was on foot; neither of us had a lot of money to spend; and she was staying in de Pijp, somewhere where I don't hang very much these days.

So, unsurprisingly, I did some research. And I found out that what I was looking for was harder to find than I expected. I eventually decided on Vamos a Ver, because she likes Spanish food and it gets great reviews, but plans changed and we didn't actually go there after all and I forgot about it. 

Then last week I was looking for a place for Moop and I to chomp something after a visit to Albert Cuypmarkt, thus also in de Pijp, and yes all my research came rushing back to me. So here are my places to maybe have an affordable bite down there*. Haven't tried any of them except Little Collins.

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Boca's
Sarphatipark 4

Perry's Exotische Food
Cornelis Troostplein 7

Orontes
Albert Cuypstraat 40

Warung Swietie Lelydorp
1e Sweelinckstraat 1

Vamos a Ver
Govert Flinckstraat 308

The ButcherBBQ/grill
Albert Cuypstraat 129

Barra
Eerste Sweelinckstraat 23

Dopey's Elixer
Lutmastraat 49

Zaza's
Daniel Stalpertstraat 103

Little Collins
Eerste Sweelinckstraat 19F

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* "Down there" meaning de Pijp, the neighborhood.

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babys who brunch.

I've eaten two restaurant brunches within one week, wtf is happening to me. The first was last Saturday at Jason Hartley's Lovefood HQ, yes non-Amsterdammers that's really the name of it. As you know, we generally don't do pretend to do restaurant reviews here, but if something resembling one sneaks into a post it definitely doesn't try to be unbiased or objective in any way. That's a disclaimer I guess.

I might not have even mentioned my meal at Lovefood (for short) here today if I hadn't also accidentally eaten at Little Collins today, the connection being that for months now the two of them have been linked inextricably in my mind as the only really-promising places in town for a proper brunch. I'm sure this perceived promise is in no small part due to the fact that both restaurants come from cultures who know their excessive drinking (Lovefood is English, Little Collins is Australian). And for me, brunch is largely about fixing shit you drank yourself into the night before, fixing it via more booze, runny eggs, and plenty of salt and smoke.

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I've just heard that Lovefood HQ is up for sale and that it'll really only exist in its current form for the next month or two, which kind of sucks b/c I found it to be somewhere I'd probably visit again. I can't say that my tongue was blown off or anything, but yes the drink options were comprehensive and intriguing, and everything we were served was pretty relentlessly tasty and definitely pretty as a picture, though in a couple of cases the menu verbiage pumped up expectations in a way the flavors couldn't match and there were a couple of tiny distracting service blips, forgetting a main ingredient of a dish for example, but yes ok otherwise a fine fine afternoon and there that's my review! I may try to go back before they're gone but let's see.

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Little Collins was similar but different. Even more informal. Not trying as hard. Less overtly professional than Lovefood but not necessarily in a bad way. Less chefly 'tude as well about what they will and won't do, which while I understand this impulse completely (having owned a retail/service business in an industry known for attitude problems, and knowing what "the paying customer" can be like, we often found ourselves torn between attempting to preemptively pacify or give the finger to customer expectations), I almost never really see it done in a way that seems to get it right tonally. The Vortex in Atlanta used to strike a nice balance of light comedy and legitimate threat, but it seems like the last decade's tidal wave of customer entitlement (and L5P's complete vanillafication) has pushed them over the edge into caricature.

Yes. So Mara ordered coriander and corn fritters with ham, guac, homemade salsa, sour cream, and arugula. Hilly had eggs in a lemony Hollandaise with garlic spinach and sourdough. All done very well, though I think the general consensus was that the three of us could've pretty easily made this at home, which I might not have been able to say about the Lovefood meal (at Lovefood, in addition to my smoked haddock omelet with Mornay sauce, I had a side order of their homemade sausage, flawless and not something I'd ever do myself).

A slight difference is that, personal taste preference-wise, I more likely would've made the Little Collins meal at home, whereas there were a couple of things at Lovefood I wouldn't have bothered with (the "biscuit", and the vegetarian sausage, and probably the fried soda bread as well, again all matters of personal taate).

I'll say that each brunch venue did exactly what it was supposed to do: I reserved a week ahead for Saturday brunch at Lovefood, we had a relaxed 2.5-hour meal and long conversation inside in the shade. Beers were from the more alternative and delicious side of the spectrum (Butcher's Tears, Prael, etc). There were enough interesting things on our plates for us to spend a good portion of that time picking away at them. Though if you're American do be warned that the "Biscuits & Gravy" are in fact much more like English scones than American biscuits, we had a little sadness about this.

At Little Collins we just kind of showed up and grabbed a table in the sun and had a quick bite, we were done in 45 minutes. I had a kind of disappointing coffee (they use Two For Joy beans, which I generally enjoy, but I ordered a long black instead of my normal double espresso, bad idea) and zero beers, though I did taste everyone's Bloody Marys.

Dus: both fine and worthy of another visit...though like I said I'd probably go back to Lovefood first b/c they seem slightly more geared towards superlatives. And their Bloody Marys were better.

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come, taste my tuber muslin.

Sorry, I thought my days of mocking the Amsterdam restaurant world's English were behind me but this was irresistible.

The restaurant is called COME, which I think is maybe just a hair worse than Eat Me. I thought maybe the COME people were in on the joke, but looking at the English version of their menu makes me think that no they just don't care.

"Just like the COME enjoy, you will get a variety of small dishes," they warn. Fair enough. The fish of the day is "winter codfish smothered in champagne", which sounds like it should be served with a forensics kit. The chicken of the day features both "schorsenerena la crème" (two languages, neither one English, becoming utter gibberish due to spacing) and "tuber muslin" (no idea). The veal duo includes "lende of the stone grill" with "stew of candied peal". Mmmmmm.

I'm available for consultation, people.

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to the beaches.

looks like we made it.

Last night's menu started with shrimp and roasted taters with riffs on 3 Momofuku sauces: octo vin; pickled ramp ranch dressing; buttermilk-sriracha dressing. Kind of like a more flexible DIY version of this. The shrimp got someone's attention.

Then, finally, butterscotch pudding for dessert. First warm from the pan, then cold from the fridge. Eeee-yyyaaaaaaayyyyyyy.

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