Apples Aplenty

 
Apples are probably my personal favorite fruit. While nowhere near as many as a century or two ago, there's still a halfway decent variety available for purchase, and more still that can elsewhere be found. There's actually an apple orchard down the road from where I grew up, but it's been so long that I hardly recall the many different sorts. 

Whether tartness, sweetness, body, crispness, all manner of varieties and characteristics still exist. In truth, there may still exist a perfect apple for every potential purpose... except for whatever happened to the Red Delicious. That poor thing is a mess- they bred for uniform coloration, and in doing so removed a gene that added stripes... but also the majority of the flavor. Poor thing.

While I am likely to adore most any apple dessert (give me a Granny Smith apple Tarte Tatin with some vanilla ice cream and I will make it vanish), they have vast utility in savory applications as well. While apple sees a lot of play in stuffing whole roasted fowl (apple and sage, anyone?), there are also many preparations that combine apple and game animals, most notably of the porcine variety. Applewood smoked bacon, pork chops with applesauce, porchetta, all manner of stews, braises, and a great many sauces, marinades, and glazes that rely on apple for sweetness, acidity, and texture. The majority of commercial Asian 'barbecue' sauces have apple (or pear), and my own North Carolina pulled pork recipe uses both apples and apple cider vinegar.

On the science side, the pectin in apples adds viscosity while also acting in some capacity as a protein binding agent, which is why I often add grated apple to meatball and meatloaf mixtures- flavor, moisture, and structure/stability all in one.

I actually braised some pork belly in apple cider earlier this morning! Added some ginger and chipotle, got tons of flavor from the simplest of preparations. A fine lunch. 

Covering the Bases in Catering

 

One of the things about catering that most people don't get is 'What happens if the food runs out?' Logically, it's obvious. If the food is gone, it's gone. There isn't any more. 

But should there be? 

Unless there was a specified "All You Can Eat Buffet" notion, usually the answer is 'No.".

The standard method I use to defend against food running out is simply extra food. My catering platters are listed as serving a given number of people as entrée portions, and slightly less than double that number as side dishes. Those numbers are calculated by product weight- they're standard and reasonable to both casual and professional eyes, but the latter will probably recognize that they're what I call 'just in case' low. If the number of people listed are fed, there will be a few portions left over. That quantity buffer removes worry if unexpected guests show up hungry, or if an item is unexpectedly popular.

What about piecemeal items? Hors d'ouvres? Dumplings? Skewers? Same concept applies. If the client only paid for a fixed number, I'm bringing anywhere from 15 to 30% more than that.

No, they didn't pay for it. No, I'm not going to ask them about it, either. That's the hidden safeguard against an empty tray. It costs me money, but so does everything. I'm not going to begrudge additional expense for my own peace of mind. Typically, that's more than enough.

But what happens if something runs out anyway?
Then it becomes the client's problem to solve, not mine. It's their event, their budget, and their final approval of both the menu and the quantities. They got everything they paid for, and more besides. All reasonable precautionary measures were taken by me, and there is no blame to be placed.

Apropos of nothing, I have another catering gig to deal with this week. Hopefully it goes smoothly.

Ugh. Ouch.

 

These past few weeks have been rather painful. In addition to my own slowly-healing injuries, my partner had a nasty fall and is laid up with several cracked ribs. As such, a great deal of my time has been spent as caretaker. Work has been laid to the side, to be finished as time and circumstance allow. Hopefully all will continue smoothly, and we'll both be back in fighting form soon. Until then though, who knows what will come when?

Today deserves to be forgotten.

 

Another year since the day when my life, alongside untold millions of others, was essentially ruined forever.

As always- the correct response was to have no-sold it. 

Clean the mess, mourn the dead, and do absolutely nothing to let it affect way of life.

Instead *everything* was done wrong, and a developing global standard of communal living was crippled forever. Decades on, the world is a much more horrible place. The United States is drowning in fear and cowardice, most of its people too incomplete to qualify for the freedoms they pretend at. That state of being has sunk into many other places around the world, stealing choice, creativity, and hope from billions of people while warmongers and thieves in the corporatocracy carve up the general public by demographic for sale.

I've never stopped being angry that I had my probable career torpedoed that day. Year of planning and preparation, obliterated in an instant four days from success. But somehow things managed to get even worse.

It's been 22 years. Still get bullied by armed mallcops for bringing a travel-size mouthwash or a manicure kit, even just a nail clipper, onto a plane. No valid reason, just security theatre, manufactured by a bunch of sniveling chickenshits who want to maintain a culture of forced obedience and armed oppression. The TSA is a public health and cultural hazard that should be wiped out. Period.

Balance that against, say, an ongoing pandemic? Where for months at a time, as many people were dying every single day as were in the Towers? That was sloughed off, marginalized, talked down as 'no big deal'. The relentless push towards "back to the office" to feed the avarice of lesser men with greater pull, to protect a relentlessly exploitative and broken status quo. 

The callous disregard for anything resembling public safety, to the extent that now people are walking around hospitals maskless when a upward of a hundred thousand new people* are infected every week in the US alone. People with money and time can isolate, but it's gone endemic when it didn't have to, and it happened purely through selfishness enabling willful ignorance in the name of "normal". Unethical in the extreme. Reckless, greedy, cruel, and absolutely unforgivable.

Two things that changed the country and the world for the worse. Both handled completely backward, completely wrongly, and no one responsible or complicit is every likely to suffer as they ought.

The only thing to 'never forget' about such things is the betrayal. Of obligation to community, and the subsequent losses of the trust, confidence, and identity.

*I have to extrapolate from the existing reliable data patterns because the CDC stopped counting back in May.

Cookbook Review: 'Indian-Ish', by Priya Krishna

When looking at cookbooks, there are tons of things to consider- recipe count, accessibility, complexity, theme, time, place, readability, and more besides. Here's a subtle thing to check: "Who's the author? Who wrote the recipes?" If those names aren't the same, you might have a problem. This one, Indian-Ish? Bit of a problem. In rather smaller font behind Priya Krishna's name is the actual writer of the recipes. (Surprise! It's her mom!) While the book's tagline is 'Recipes and antics from a modern American family', that kind of subtle marginalizing of the primary source is upsetting. Culturally, historically, even practically, I get it. But that still doesn't make it correct.

The early pages have basics like spices, rice, quinoa, and potatoes- not uncommon for some styles of cookbook, and it doesn't hurt to have them here, even if it might feel a little patronizing. There's an interesting one on the technique of tempering spices and aromatics in oil (used as a finisher for many dishes), commonly known by its Punjab name of tadka/tarka/तङका here in the West. In this book it's referred to by the Hindi 'chhonk/छौंक', most likely to draw attention. Now this, I understand- it's a word that sounds funny to English speakers. It's more memorable, but it's also a somewhat different thing. Chhonk typically focuses less on dried whole spices, also including aromatics like chili, onion, curry leaf, even tomato (watery things!) in hot fat alongside spices, making a more complex, textural sort of finishing splash. The method and intent, though, are the same- creating a last-minute fresh, powerful flavor and aroma enhancer. In French cuisine it might be called a liaison finale.

Just save this, honestly.

Right after that comes a variation on something I made myself a long time ago- an ingredient flowchart for shortcutting Indian food. A clever quick-reference guide like this can be quite handy for the unfamiliar, even if the concept is as old as dirt. The notion of using certain static ingredients as 'building blocks' for delicious food is no stranger to a thinking cook, even if those ingredients vary widely all across the world. Given the book's likely audience, it's a wise inclusion of Mama Krishna's.

Now this book is here to tell a story just as much as it is to share culinary information, and the brilliantly colorful and stylized photographs couple delightfully with many of the shorter, simpler recipes to reflect that. Together they paint a picture of a family home rich in experiences and creativity, with just enough chaos to keep things inspired. Many of the recipes are beginner friendly dress-ups or simple tweaks in existing concepts, like the Lima Bean and Basil Dip (p.52) that's just 'hummus' via a different bean with some basil and lime instead of tahini and lemon. Building block concept, comparable substitute for the primary ingredient, simple flavor change. A well executed fundamental. A few seem to miss the mark- I don't recommend trying the Saag Paneer (p.83) without thinking carefully about seasoning first. Swapping the standard paneer for feta without a mention of the vast difference in salt content could easily lead to an inedible dinner. Keep that in mind and look closely at any recipes you want to try so you're not caught off guard.

Obnoxious on one side.
Uninformed on the other.
Everyone loses.

The flavor text, as it were, wanders widely. Topics vary, with things like fasting (Red Chile Potatoes, p.114), or traveling (Roti Roli Poli, p.135), and they often offer a good bit of color and context to flesh out what might seem like unexpectedly simple notions. A few, though, are heavy with gotchas likely to grate, like this one for Kichdi (p.158): 

"...But like many things in India consumed by small infants and ailing patients... white people in wellness circles have managed to co-opt the dish, acting as if they have unearthed this monumentous discovery... do all us brown people a favor and remember that kichdi was invented by Indians, not L.A. yoga instructors.". 

To give that kind of dismissive grief -particularly since it's hitting a sizable chunk of the book's probable audience- seems strongly self-sabotaging. I'm as guilty of the occasional White People Facepalm as any restaurant professional, but this book sometimes reads like it's trying to make a sale while giving prospective buyers the finger.

All the important fundamentals of a quality cookbook are here: the food's good, the recipes are relatively easy to execute, and there are how-tos for the entry-level stuff to take the fear away. Based strictly on the recipes and their photographs, it's a rock-solid read for all skill levels. As a whole though, it has a more dissonant feel. Food meant to bring comfort and happiness, shared by a voice that tries and fails to hide its insecurities behind eyerolls.

Cookbook Review: 'Madhur Jaffrey's Instantly Indian Cookbook'

 

Missed the subheading, but it all worked out.

While browsing at the library, a cookbook I'd not yet read caught my eye. Nothing new exactly, but because I know Madhur Jaffrey's quite good at creating them, I took a second look. Her work typically offers informative expertise and thoughtful perspective from a voice in which you can hear the smile. Brevity, however, does not typically make the list, so I checked the unexpectedly slender volume out and brought it home to satisfy my curiosity. Upon closer examination, I realized it was by design. While the title has some ambiguity, the caption beneath marks it as meant for a very targeted audience: it's a 2019 Instant Pot cookbook. At which point I went "Whoops. Hmm..."

Throughout the course of her decades in food, Madhur Jaffrey has remained fairly constant in her message and her method, so this deviation toward a niche, nontraditional (if very useful) tool struck me as a trifle odd and very interesting. While I don't own an Instant Pot myself, I have lived and worked for many years alongside people who do, and was very much intrigued at how a food culture that so enthusiastically embraces the pressure cooker might make a more comprehensive use of what's touted as an all-purpose tool but often relegated to pressing one or two buttons and walking away. 

Amusingly, the book's introduction starts with what's essentially "RTFM"- a person can do so much more when they're using a piece of equipment they actually take the time to understand, and the Instant Pot is no exception. The intro ends with her trademark disarming charm. "Feel easy with the recipes and incorporate them into your lives in ways that best suit you. The foods in this book are very Indian. But you may eat them in as American a way as you like."

Recipes go into exacting but never superfluous detail about Instant Pot minutiae, including settings to use, cooking times, and whether to release pressure naturally or manually- even how long to wait before manually releasing, in some cases. Such fine-tuning tells me a significant amount of work and testing went into the recipes, making me more likely to trust them as written. I particularly like the Rajasthani Gosht (p.104) and the Saag Wali Moong (p.18). Most of the book seems covertly designed for low-budget and batch cooking as well, making the book more more of a draw for its intended audience. In addition, there are a few all-purpose techniques for using the Instant Pot such as boiling eggs, as well as some non-recipes like Rice Noodles (steaming and sautéing store bought Bánh Phở), but the latter feel more like just-in-case measures, and fit in with no fuss.

Most of the proper recipes themselves are both familiar and interesting, and there are a double handful of no-cook salads and chutneys to round things out, accented with pictures that are appetizing and unpretentious. However, the amount of the book that can be readily cooked in a single pan with naught but a little more time had me wondering about their provenance. Is this cookbook merely stocked with recipes taken from others and reworked to fit the mold? Probably. Does it matter? Not really. This book is about delicious food prepared with a specific product, and it delivers as promised. If you want to work backwards and convert the recipes in this book to fit conventional kitchen equipment though, there's nothing difficult about most of the transposing beyond adjusting the cooking times.

Overall, while Instantly Indian feels gimmicky, it does so with clearly defined purpose. It's neatly put together, well researched, and proffers exactly what it claims with enviably detailed precision. While not a book I'd use for its methods, several of its preparations are going to stick around in my head for regular eating. I couldn't ask for anything more from a functional cookbook.