Eastern European Buffet

Seven of my culinary classmates got to show off their food at their Eastern European buffet last week. The best dish I ate was the roast suckling pig stuffed with veal and apples. My classmates cooked and prepared the food over six days. The entire school lined up to eat.





One of my classmates goofed around with the pig.


That's homemade sauerkraut in the middle. My classmates made their own sausages.


Wild boar terrine with cherries


Stewed pumpkin with swiss chard


Polish stuffed cabbages (front) and Macedonian stuffed cabbages


Duck ham


I love ajvar. It's a roasted red pepper dip that's common in the Balkans. One of my classmates is from Macedonia and he made the dip.


I really liked the almond biscotti cookies. (I swiped a few before they cleared the table.) The Italian ricotta cheesecake went fast. The baklava had the perfect balance of sweetness. The black forest cake was wonderfully rich. 


The suckling pig managed to make it in the photo.

Great job, guys!

To view more photos, go to my Flickr page.

Thanksgiving and Korean short rib stew

Matt and I didn't go anywhere for Thanksgiving. We're saving up to go home for Christmas. Matt's one rule for Turkey Day? Cook something so we could eat by noon. He didn't want me to cook all day. Since I've got a cold and I've been coughing for the past few days, I just wanted soup. I made Kalbi jjim, Korean short rib stew, which is usually made for special occasions. I improved the recipe I already had to give the stew more flavor.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Kalbi jjim
Serves 4

2-3 lbs. short ribs, bone-in
5/8 cup or 150 ml soy sauce
1/4 cup or 60 ml mirin
3/4 cup or 100 g sugar
9 cloves garlic, peeled and minced
1 2-inch piece ginger, peeled and minced
cold water to cover

Vegetable garnish
1 daikon radish, cut into 1-inch chunks
2 carrots, cut into 1-inch chunks
2 red potatoes, cut into 1-inch chunks

Garnish:
1 cup chestnuts, roasted, peeled and cut into quarters
1 cup dried jujubes, pitted
1 cup shiitake mushrooms, stems removed and sliced
sea salt

2 cups rice
3 cups water

For the rice:
Rinse rice three times. Make rice in a rice cooker. Or, combine rice and water in a pot. Bring to a boil. Lower heat and cover. Simmer for about 18 minutes. Take off heat. Let sit for about five minutes. Fluff rice with a fork.

For chestnuts:
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Make an incision in each chestnut by cutting across the shell and piercing the inner skin. Roast chestnuts on a sheet pan for 15-20 minutes. Peel, cut into quarters and set aside.

For the stew:
Cover short ribs with cold water in a pot. Bring to a boil and then discard the liquid.

Mix soy sauce, mirin, sugar, garlic and ginger. Pour the mixture over short ribs in a clean pot. Add water to cover. Bring to a boil on the stove top. Lower heat to a simmer. Partially cover pot with a lid, leaving space for steam to escape. (I like to cut parchment paper to fit the diameter of the pot and I lay it over the stew. I cut a hole in the middle of the parchment paper lid. Less liquid seems to evaporate.)

Simmer stew for 2 to 2 1/2 hours or until the meat is tender and falls off the bone.  Skim off any oil that rises to the top. Meanwhile, cut the carrots, daikon radish and potatoes.

During the last 30 minutes of cooking, add the carrots, radish and potatoes to the stew. During the last 15 minutes of cooking, add chestnuts, mushrooms and pitted jujubes.

Ladle the stew in each bowl. Sprinkle sea salt over the short ribs. Serve with rice.

Print recipe

Greenmarket Demo: Cauliflower and apple

Cauliflower is an underrated vegetable. It tastes sweet. The florets feel bumpy on the tongue. Slices of cauliflower look like trees after being caramelized in the oven.

Before Jessi Colon, manager for the Inwood Greenmarket, asked me to do a cooking demo on cauliflower, I hadn't cooked it since I made an Indian dish a couple years ago. I looked at different cauliflower recipes, like the one in The Essential New York Times Cookbook. I just needed to know how to roast it properly. For a test run, I roasted the cauliflower with apple because I wanted something sweeter to go with the vegetable. I also added rosemary and thyme. When I ate the cauliflower and apple, the dish needed another ingredient to make it pop. I had bought a bottle of white balsamic vinegar after liking the taste of it on salads at Roberta's where I interned. I twisted the top and drizzled the vinegar over the cauliflower and apples. It brightened the dish.

At the Inwood Greenmarket Saturday, I cooked the cauliflower and apple on a portable gas burner and handed out samples. I was pretty stoked because I got to cook with orange and white cauliflower and romanesko, a type of cauliflower that has coned buds and looks like it came from an alien planet. By the end of the demo, all the samples were gone.




Roasted cauliflower and apple
Serves 4

1/2 head cauliflower
1 apple (Mutsu, Golden Delicious or Pink Lady); cored, peeled and cut into 1-inch chunks
2 tablespoons fresh rosemary, minced or 2 teaspoons dried rosemary
2 tablespoons fresh thyme, minced or 2 teaspoons dried thyme
white Balsamic vinegar to taste
salt
fresh ground black pepper
olive oil

Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. Cut the core out of the cauliflower and then cut florets into 1/2-inch slices. Set aside 1/2 tablespoon each of rosemary and thyme for the apple chunks. Toss the cauliflower in olive oil and the remaining rosemary and thyme. Season the cauliflower with salt and freshly ground pepper.

In another bowl, toss the apple chunks in olive oil, salt, pepper and the herbs that were previously set aside. 

Spread only the cauliflower on a sheet pan and roast in the oven for 25 minutes or until tender. After the cauliflower slices have been in the oven for 10-15 minutes, add the seasoned apple chunks to the pan and flip the cauliflower slices for even caramelization. (The apples would become mushy if cooked for 25 minutes.)

Season cauliflower and apple chunks with white balsamic vinegar to taste. Serve as a side.

Print recipe

Napa cabbage kimchi

I've been making a lot of Napa cabbage kimchi these days, trying to see if I can recreate my mother's paechu kimchi.



The first batch of cabbage kimchi I made was way too salty. I put in too much salted shrimp for 1 head of cabbage. The second batch was forgettable. The third batch was bland because I hadn't salted the cabbage overnight. Finally, I made the kimchi in bulk with 3 heads of cabbage, allowing the cabbage to disgorge overnight and letting the kimchi sauce meld during that time. The next day, I mixed the spicy sauce with cabbage and scallions and the kimchi tasted good already. 

Kimchi doesn't always point straight to cabbage. The term refers to the pickling of vegetables. Koreans pickle daikon radish, cucumbers, bok choy and other vegetables.

Living in Wisconsin, my mother made kimchi with ingredients she got from a mainstream grocery store and the lone Asian grocery store in town that catered to Hmong immigrants. I'd eat kimchi at a Korean restaurant and think it's too fresh or it's too sweet, and I'd crave my mother's.

Now, all these years later, I find out from my mom how simple her recipe is. It's not overly spicy. The kimchi sauce just has onion, garlic, ginger, salted shrimp and kochukaru (Korean red pepper powder). Others might use Korean anchovy sauce or fish sauce and throw in carrots, daikon radish, watercress, mustard greens or chives.

I might experiment later, but I just wanted to get my mother's recipe right.

Napa cabbage kimchi
By Jenny Lee-Adrian

Makes about 4-5 quarts
3 medium Napa cabbage
6 tablespoons kochukaru (Korean red pepper powder)
12 cloves garlic, peeled
3 teaspoons fresh ginger, peeled; (just cut 3 round slices off a ginger root)
1/4 medium yellow onion or about 6 tablespoons
3/8 cup salted shrimp or to your taste
150 ml water, plus more if needed
sea salt or kosher salt
1 bunch scallions, cut into 2-inch lengths

Turn each Napa cabbage upside down. Make an incision through the core and then pry open the cabbage with your hands.


Cut each cabbage half cross-wise in two-inch widths. Wash the cabbage in a sink filled with water. Spin dry. In a large bowl, drop handfuls of cabbage in one layer. Sprinkle salt over the layer. Add more cabbage and sprinkle more salt. Disgorge overnight. Keep in the refrigerator.

The cabbage will wilt.

Meanwhile, make the kimchi sauce. Mix kochukaru, garlic, ginger, onion and salted shrimp in a blender. Add 150 ml water (about 50 ml per medium Napa cabbage) and mix. The sauce should look like bright red sludge. Cover and refrigerate.



Red sludge

In the morning, taste the cabbage. It should taste salty. Rinse the cabbage of excess salt. Rinse again if you think the cabbage is too salty. Drain for about 15 minutes. Cut the scallions and set aside.



Take out your kimchi sauce and taste it. Adjust seasoning. Then mix the sauce, scallions and cabbage in a large bowl with gloved hands.

Pack the kimchi in glass jars or stainless steel containers. Pour in any excess sauce to cover the kimchi. (Add more water if needed to cover the kimchi.) Seal jars. Store kimchi containers in a dark place at room temperature for 24-48 hours before placing in the refrigerator. After four days, check on the kimchi and taste. (You can eat the kimchi right after you make it, but I prefer kimchi that has fermented for 2-3 weeks.)


Variations:
Add julienned carrots, watercress, mustard greens, Asian pears and Korean chives.
Others use Korean anchovy sauce instead of salted shrimp.

A couple notes:
*Kochukaru is pronounced goh-chu kah-roo with a rolled "r." Korean red pepper powder can be coarse or fine. Use either kind.
*Salted shrimp is pretty stinky. When you buy a jar, it may leak. That's why I transfer the salted shrimp into a glass jar and stick it in the freezer.

Print recipe 

Meat and cheese plates

“That's a rockin’ meat and cheese plate,” said K., the garde manger cook.

I was making combo plates for a party at Roberta's.

“It only took me three months to get to this point,” I said wryly.

“You’re preaching to the choir, Jenny Lee. You’re preaching to the choir,” K. said and laughed.

________________________________________________________________
I currently intern at Roberta's in Brooklyn.

Spanish Buffet!

Six of my classmates prepared a Mediterranean-themed buffet over six days. On Monday, the entire school came down to taste the food. My group---the Asian-Latino-themed buffet---will present in a few weeks. The buffet is a requirement of Level 4. (I passed my midterm and passed Level 3.)

Platters were filled with merguez, fois gras torchons with date cherry marsala jam, house-cured codfish croquetas, white almond gazpacho, duck confit empanadas, grilled baby octopus and so much more. Seafood paella, barbecued Moroccan braised lamb shanks, sherry-braised short ribs and chicken in an almond sauce were served.

To see all the photos, go to my Flickr page.

A few highlights...

I loved the seafood paella.



I slurped all of my Moroccan rice pudding.


The calamari stuffed with couscous was wonderfully sweet inside.



The lamb shanks were so tender.



I really liked the foie gras torchons with date cherry marsala jam. The torchons look like peanut butter and jelly bites, only they're so much more decadent. 



The salt-cured striped sea bass was impressive.


The duck confit empanadas and the churros were all gone by the time I passed by them.





What an incredible job! Congrats, guys!

School midterm Part 2: 9:48 p.m.

Brilliant drops of red bulged out of the cut on my left thumb. I had lightly grazed it with my butchering knife, while I tried to carve four uniform pork chops from a rack for my Oct. 25 school midterm. I stopped and ran to the medicine cabinet. I put on a bandage and a finger cot, grabbing even more finger cots and stuffing them in my pocket.

I was in Level 3 at The French Culinary Institute, the hardest level out of the six. I couldn't be late on the midterm. I had to turn in consomme at 8:59 p.m. and pork chops at 9:48 p.m. If I didn't and the dishes were horrible, I might fail the practical and be held back a level.

I cleaned my knife and started over. I finally made four chops except one was really skinny. I wrapped the meat and stuck it in a refrigerator. I looked at my boiling pot of salted water on the flat top. The cubes of turnip bobbed in the water. I lifted two cubes with a spoon and dropped them in ice water. I ate both. They weren’t mush. I had pulled them out in time.

The consommé had a garnish of carrots, turnips and peas. You had to make sure there was an equal ratio of vegetables in each bowl. I cooked the peas and got rid of green, sickly ones.

As the first group of students got ready to present at 8:45 p.m., I sliced potatoes on a mandolin. I had to make a crispy potato cake, or pommes darphin, for my pork dish. If I could just get the hash brown in the oven, I would be free to deal with the pork chops after I presented the soup. I slid the potato cake in the oven to crisp up even more.

The consomme had been sitting on a lower shelf over an ice bath. All the grease had floated to the top. I slid pieces of parchment paper over the consommé to lift off the fat. Then I poured the soup into a pot to heat up.

About 10 minutes before I had to present, I poured the consommé in a teapot, so I could serve the soup later. I put two tablespoons of cubed vegetables and peas in four hot bowls.

A pang of fear hit my brain as I remembered the potato cake in the oven. I took it out and slid it on a wire rack.

Everything was ready for the soup. The four hot bowls were on doilies that I had placed on room-temperature plates. Those plates were on a dinner napkin laid on a large platter.

At 8:59 p.m., I lifted the platter, walked out the door, down the hallway and into the school theater where the judges were. I lifted the teapot and poured the consommé into the bowls. As I served the soup to two judges, I could see how my latex gloves stuck to my skin.

After that, I seared my pork chops and slid them into the oven. I sauteed shallots and green peppercorns for the sauce. Then I added the pork espagnole stock I made earlier and some heavy cream.

I darted to the low-boy refrigerator to get watercress for four plates. I ran back to my station and got the bowl I had poured a bit of olive oil in to dress the watercress. A puddle of heavy cream had dropped into the bowl. I ran to get some more olive oil and sprinkled in salt and pepper.

I glanced at the stove. My sauce bubbled away. It had gotten darker and I wondered if it was reducing too much. I moved the pan to my flat top, which I turned off. But the residual heat still kept the sauce bubbling.

The digital clock on the wall clicked to 9:48 p.m. and I hadn’t quite finished plating the pork chops. I had draped sauce over the chops and placed two potato wedges underneath.

“Jenny, PUSH!” Chef A yelled from across the room. I dipped the last of the watercress in the olive oil and dropped them on the plates.

I lifted the platter and ran out the door, falling in line behind Gillian. The clock still said 9:48.

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To read School Midterm Part 1, click here.

Addendum: I passed the midterm. To FCI students who read the posts, if you're not super late turning in a dish, I think you'll be fine.