Sushi and Rolls

My brother and I got sushi for lunch at Sushi Thai in Cary (superlative food, by the way).

Our late grandmother on our father's side was a huge sushi fan. She could often be found at Frankentrost Sushi, drinking Sapporo with her hamachi. One time someone asked to taste a piece of her unagi and moved their chopsticks toward the plate, presuming consent. Grandma grabbed the chopsticks out of the man's hands and snapped them in two. She threw them on the floor and said, in her heavy Italian accent, "You toucha my sushi, I breaka you face! I serva you lungs to you onna plate, capeesh?" *

*Except for the fact that Grandma was not Italian, had probably never even heard of sushi, and never said an unkind word in her life, this is all true. I don't think there are any sushi restaurants in Frankentrost, Michigan either, now that I think of it.

Summer Food Triptych

A few days ago, I made Italian Bread Salad;

Yesterday, Independence Day, we ate, drank and loafed all day. A group of us went out to breakfast at Cracker Barrel. We drank Dale's Pale Ale next to a friend's pool after that. Next, we came home and started cooking. I smoked some ribs, roasted some sweet peppers for a lovely assortment of appetizers that Lindz assembled, and made some mojitos. Among the many things we ate were artichokes:

Bryan made a fine, patriotic cheesecake, which we enjoyed with some Michigan Port:


It was a fine Fourth. Lindz, our guests and I strolled to our nearby lake to discover neighbors shooting off really cool, not exactly legal fireworks. I regret that I was too busy watching them, talking and drinking to run back to the house and get the camera.

It is truly a fine thing to be an American.

Shrayemp & Greeyits

If you look closely , you'll see sausage in there. That's not andouille from New Orleans, that's landjaeger from Willi's Meat Market in Frankenmuth, MI. It worked perfectly. We drank Australian Shiraz with it all. Num Num Nummy.

If I were part of the cast of The Simpsons...

The Future of Stapling is here

It's based on the Swingline model 444, or "The Triple-Four," as we say in the business.

Tree Removal

Before:
During:
Here's Emilio up in the tree. I circled him. It was a tall tree.
After:
We've still got plenty of trees left. The absence of those two pines and two sweetgums will greatly improve the workload of raking and gutter-cleaning this fall.

Loblolly Calendar

This is the cross-section of the bole of a loblolly pine (Pinus taeda). I had the arborist leave me two four-foot pieces of the biggest tree so I could dry them and build something out of them someday (benches or a mantelpiece). It seems to be as much as 47 years old.

Two Good Things

Prosciutto-wrapped tilapia and grilled balsamic & maple glazed asparagus. We accompanied it with the velvety, slightly smoky Yellowtail Reserve Pinot Noir that set me back $9. I was rather pleased with myself.


This is a red stapler. A nice, substantial, metal one. I rule. Too bad I work in a place that makes Office Space look like the Travel Channel.

Potatoes, a Recipe and the Workplace

(listening to "Paragon Rag" by Scott Joplin)

This is a lot of potatoes (15 or 16 pounds). I'm baking them for work. A coworker thought it would be cool to have a baked potato bar as a change from the typical pot luck. I was nominated to do it, so people chipped in some money for the supplies. I rendered a nice pile of bacon bits, steamed some broccoli, and chopped some chives. I also have a huge tub of sour cream, tubs of whipped butter, and some cans of chili. Loaded spuds will be had by all, and I even got a Trader Joe's pepper grinder (pre-ground pepper is worthless. It is a close relative to sawdust). My oven is full of big russets right now.

My brother wanted to know more about the food in the previous post. The prosciutto-wrapped tilapia in the previous post was very simple and very good. I put a piece of prosciutto on the cutting board. Then, a tilapia filet. Then, another piece of prosciutto. I rolled it up and decided to wrap another piece of prosciutto around it. I stuck a bamboo skewer through it. I might normally bake this, but I like to use the grill during summer to keep the cooking heat outside of the house. Lindz had mentioned asparagus earlier in the day, so I got some at the store. I tossed the 'sparagus with a bit of canola oil, salt & pepper, balsamic vinegar and maple syrup (all told, just enough liquids to coat the asparagus and leave a modest puddle in the Pyrex dish). I put the asparagus on the lower level of the grill, and the tilapia above it. I have a rectangular stainless grill grate doohickie that helped prevent lost asparagus. It all didn't take very long, and I was pleased with how all the flavors went together.

And now, some contemplation about work that might get some interesting comments:

I don't miss working for Starbucks. Retail sucks ass. My current workplace does indeed resemble Office Space, but a great many others do, too. Sometimes I get philosophical about what I'm supposed to do with my life; I come up with various ways of beating myself up for not having a more exciting, lucrative or noble job than I do. I've gotten the idea in my head that it's something to with my DNA. I am a Midwestern boy, of German descent and raised as a Lutheran. As such, I think that this has made me:
1)punctual
2)hardworking
3)not a vegetarian
4)a lover of beer
5)addicted to security and predictability
6)mortally afraid of not preparing enough food for a meal
7)a diligent pantry manager, always ensuring that it would take a nuclear war and years of subsequent anarchy to make me run out of canned corn or plastic wrap
8)unable and/or unwilling to sell myself to others. I loathe job hunting more than anything in the world. More than gargling bleach. More than being rubbed vigorously all over with a cheese grater and then being dipped in hot sauce.

My loving, devoted wife and I had a lengthy, beer-lubricated conversation about this the other night at our local bar. She does not subscribe to my theory that my magical inability to make lots of money and love doing it is due to my DNA. Still, I wonder: the anthropological and socioeconomic ground from which I sprang is suited to doing okay in adversity, not thriving in prosperity. I am descended from farmers, not captains of industry. My people don't think outside the box; they ensure that it is a good, strong box with all perfect 90-degree angles. As such, my people are the people you want to be during The Great Depression.

Anyway, there are a hell of a lot of people out there who make a lot of money. In many cases, they are stupid, rude, self-entitled and lacking in integrity. Many of them are not those things. Is there really such an easy explanation? Various members and friends of my wife's extended family (none of whom are Midwestern German-Americans) are hugely wealthy, notable people. They're good people, not thieves.

I am fiercely proud of my heritage, and I could not possibly love my family more than I do. But when baked potatoes are the most exciting thing going on at the office, I have to wonder what the hell is wrong with me.

Good Wine, Good Food, Good Company

Two friends visited us here in North Carolina, and it was the first time in four years that we were all together. Luis had been in the Peace Corps, and he romped through Europe for a few weeks before returning to the States. He told us many tales of rats, boils, village superstition, ineffectual NGO's and long lines at European castles. We may have had a glass or two of wine during the visit:

Highlights include Magnificat, Napanook, three different Chateauneuf-du-Pape, Saintsbury Pinot Noir, Schramsberg Cremant, Frank Family Blanc de Blancs, two Champagnes, Ferrari-Carano Chardonnay, Qady Essensia, and Estancia Meritage. I'd say the winner of the red category was the deep, smooth-as-a-baby's-ass Napanook, and the winner of the sparkling category was the bracingly dry, toasty/minerally Frank Family. Luis has a keen palate and a true afiçion for the grape, and he has helped to elevate my appreciation for fine wine. Having him around is not helpful to frugality, but we truly had some splendid enological exploits.

We did our fair share of eating, too. I didn't cook as much as I usually do; we ate out or grazed more of the time. I did grilled salmon with sweet pepper coulis and grilled corn on the cob, but I took no pictures. In fact, we ate out more in a week than Lindz and I do in three months. But this was vacation. 42nd Street Oyster Bar was quite good; I had clams on the half shell for the first time. I liked them; they are firmer and meatier than oysters.
For dinner on our last night together, I made grilled boneless porkchops with a speck and sage sauce with herbed roasted potatoes. Lindz made the salad of greens, strawberries, blue cheese and balsamic vinaigrette. Tasty Chateauneuf-du-Pape and Pinot Noir accompanied it.
It was all a much-needed respite from the cubicle farm. Talk of travel, life and the future while enjoying the finer things is a restorative pastime.

Summatime

One of my wife's fashion magazines had an article about some alleged fashion "trends" or "looks." These included "Deco," "Anglomania," "Modern Gamine," and our favorite, "Biker Luxe." Naturally, they were each accompanied by photo of an anorexic, hollow-cheeked model dressed in a ridiculous combination of overpriced clothes. Perhaps it's in style somewhere, but we just got a laugh out of it. Anyway, I named a cocktail after it. Lindz had made pomegranate sorbet, and I combined it with some Absolut Mandarin in a stemmed glass. I present the Biker Luxe:

Earlier in the week, Lindz and I went to a concert. This shaky picture is of the talented and excellent Ben Folds, who played before John Mayer. It was a hell of a good show. Mr. Folds really knows how to get the crowd into it. He and his band played a haunting rendition of Dr. Dre's "Bitches Ain't Shit." Mr. Mayer is one hell of a good blues guitar player.

However, Alltel Pavilion at Walnut Creek is a different story. Once you're inside, it's nice. The connection (or lack thereof) to major streets is a problem. I propose a way to save the American taxpayer a ton of money: Take all the prisoners out of the expensive, overcrowded jails and put them all in the parking lot of Alltel pavilion at the end of a concert. THERE IS NO ESCAPE. Alcatraz was probably easier than it was for us to get home that night. Well, maybe that plan needs a little more work. Anyway, the traffic sucked.

Boo-hoo for us. Life is tough for us. As a gangster rapper once said, "If you ain't never been to tha burbs, then stay tha f##k outta tha burbs, cuz you wouldn't unnastand tha burbs."

One Hundred and Three Friggin' Degrees Today

No more needs to be said.

Suisin 210mm Gyutou

Ahh, there's nothing like a new knife. Lindz has yet to fathom my consuming fascination with cutlery, much less my newfound desire to know all about Japanese cutlery. This knife was made in Sakai, near Osaka. It is the Suisin Nihon-ko Western Style Gyutou, 210 millimeters in length. It is of carbon steel, so this is the only time anyone will ever see it shine. I prepared dinner with it, and it has already begun to develop its gray patina. It is half the weight and thickness of a European knife of the same length. It is perfectly balanced and wicked sharp. My Viking knife (Ringil) is a good knife, but it is the opposite of this Suisin. The Viking (made in Solingen, Germany) is heavy, thick and well balanced. The Suisin (I have decided to name it Usagi, the Japanese word for rabbit. Yes, I know this is intolerably nerdy) is light, thin and perfectly balanced. I like them both. This Japanese piece, however, seems to approach the "extension of your hand" experience much more closely. The shape of the blade is more to my liking as well. I will have to become familiar with it, and, more importantly, learn how to keep it sharp -- a Sakai knifesmith grinds a different edge on his wares than a Solingen one.

Rosemary Boule

Two things that are warm, flat and good

The Ollie:
Grill Bread:
I made a batch of pizza dough and smooshed it out flat. I rubbed a bit of oil on it. I threw it on a hot grill. Lindz and I made sandwiches out of it for dinner: grilled chicken, fresh mozzarella, heirloom tomatoes and pesto. French green beans steamed in a foil pouch with onions and vermouth constituted the side dish (all the cooking was done on the grill). Purdy good.
Naturally, the Ollie is quite rich, but very nice.

A new record and a meal

We just ended the hottest month ever. Really. August was the hottest month ever recorded for the Triangle (with an average temperature of 84.1 degrees at RDU airport). Thirty of the month's 31 days exceeded 90 degrees. I can't wait for winter. I've heard locals bitch and moan when it gets below 50. THAT'S WHAT COATS ARE FOR, CANDY ASS. You have never experienced cold until you've waited for the school bus in Michigan. I hope nobody from Kapuskasing is reading this; they might not agree.

I just love cold weather, that's all. I bake things, roast things, braise things - always with the knowledge that I'm warming the house, rather that giving the air conditioner more work to do. I get to enjoy the clothes that have been tucked away for months. Summer tomatoes are good though; there's no two ways about that. I'm tired of heat, though. Lots of folks here, both locals and Yankees, feel the same way.

Anyway, I made this for dinner:

It's a grilled Boston Butt pork chop with a reduction of white wine, maple syrup, balsamic vinegar, Dijon mustard and garlic. The salad is fairly obvious: strawberries (very good ones, I was pleased to find), greens, pine nuts, feta and balsamic vinaigrette. We drank some Brother Thelonious Abbey Ale with it.

Charleston

Lindz and I drove down to Charleston for a wedding this past weekend. After 4 1/2 hours of easy, unexciting driving, we arrived in that handsome town. The ceremony was held in the French Huguenot Church:
Here's the exterior of the church:
From there, we proceeded to the reception at the Aquarium. You can see the Ravenel Bridge in the background, and the USS Yorktown is out of frame to the right.
Aquatic life surrounded us (there were sharks swimming by the buffet). Here is the bride dancing with her dad as the fish look on:
Lindz and I did some serious walking the next day. There were characterful old buildings and streets in every direction. This is an overgrown old graveyard next to a church, a spot we found after wandering through and old wrought iron gate.

It seems like we ended up with few pictures, and they don't do the town justice. The weather was perfect, if a tad muggy, and we had most of a day to wander. We did some fine eating, too....

Mum's Visit

Crust: Half whole wheat with fresh rosemary. Sauce: Caramelized onions and sweet red peppers. Toppings: Chicken/apple sausage and provolone cheese with fresh basil after baking.

It didn't suck. It was but one of the numerous things consumed during Mom's visit.
Lindz made ice cream with fresh peaches and ginger, it should be mentioned. That was some goodass crap. And then there was dinner at Humble Pie. I got a couple bottles of wine for the occasion (a Vacqueyras and an Aglianico), and we had a smashing time. The mushroom napoleon is great. And the spinach tart. And the black bean crepe with crabmeat. And the shrimp and grits. And the berry tart....
Naturally, there was more to her visit than just gluttony, but the gluttony is easier to remember.

Roast Beef Nigiri

It's more or less impossible to find raw fish that's suitable for this around here, so I made landlocked nigiri sushi. Sometimes I've seen "sashimi grade tuna," but I'm not so sure I trust that.
My immature rice technique contributed to these beasties being quite delicate and difficult to eat, but they tasted very good. The flavors of roast beef and soy sauce combine beautifully - it's an umami smackdown. I think next time I'll have some nori on hand to tie a band around the nigiri to hold it together, like they do with unagi sushi:

Perhaps a small roll with roast beef and scallions inside would be good, and easier to eat. I love the combination of beef and scallions.

Gyū-maki

I'm not sure why the picture is slightly blurry. Perhaps the camera focused on the bit of exposed plate in the center, which was a bit further from the lens than the top of the rolls. We ate them, obliterating the possibility of a re-shoot.
Anyway, they tasted good. The scallions added a good element. Perhaps next time, a bit less rice and a bit more beef. Maybe I'll use slivers of grilled flank steak.

Blauhaus Sushi Station

I asked my brother over for dinner this week, and what does that unpredictable scamp do? He brings over the makings for California Rolls. We made most of them inside-out, unlike the ones pictured here. They were so freegin' good. He brought good crabmeat from Trader Joe's, and that made the difference. I had no sesame seeds on hand, but we made good California Rolls. Bryan is far more practiced at this art, and his rolls were perfect. Mine didn't fall apart, but the filling was off center like Marty Feldman's eyes in Young Frankenstein. I got creative with one roll, which I named the Hello Kitty Sourpuss Roll. I included some preserved lemon (with a bit of the salt removed by soaking), and it was pretty good. We drank $10 Italian red wine with it all (Tenuta del Portale Starsa Basilicata), and it was perfect. Then, we watched a violent Japanese animated film called Ninja Scroll. Not English-dubbed. Marvelous.

Stress

Bryan is in Michigan, and Lindz is in California. Oliver is staying with me, so the stress level around the house is pretty high.

Maybe I won't bother installing them...

I rather like the new kitchen cabinets in this arrangement!

Mexican Lasagna and Hard Work

Bryan came over with a bunch of ingredients and a plan. We set to work, and here was the result:
Goodass crap. As a refined little apertif, I got a giant can of Budweiser Chelada style beer. Purely out of morbid curiosity. It is beer (sort of, it is Budweiser after all) with Clamato, lime and salt. It was kind of weird, as you might expect from a beverage built of light beer, tomatoes and mollusks. We dumped it out and drank some Ommegang Three Philosophers instead.

On to a different subject. Lindz and I began the kitchen project. We replaced two base cabinets on Saturday (my back is still sore). Behind one cabinet was evidence of how attractive the kitchen must have been in 1981:
And here's me leveling one of the new beauties. It's actually made of wood, rather than sawdust!
And the payoff. this drawer is nearly three feet wide, and it comes all the way out. We're going to need some partitions in there. It's so big, you could call it zoning. Note the attractive masking tape flag serving as a drawer pull until the new ones arrive.

Lindz and I had a good time demolishing the flimsy old cabinets. No complaints, really - they served for two and a half decades, but their era is at an end.

And let's not forget about bread

The old French Bread recipe, little changed from what we ate as kids (I skip the egg wash, and I use olive oil instead of butter, but that's it).

The Third Thursday of November...

...is traditionally the day for installing drawer pulls. It dates back to Roman times, when the emperor would grant a selection of tasteful cabinet hardware to a victorious gladiator. The eleventh month of the year was known as Knobvember for centuries before it gradually morphed into what we call it today.
As coincidence would have it, it is also the day when Beaujolais Nouveau is released. It is a bright, tart, youthful contrast to the blustery fall weather outside.

Unexpectedly Good yet Backbreaking Saturday

This weekend, the goal was to install the two base cabinets on the sink side of the kitchen. The source of anxiety for me was the fact that unless I successfully reconnected all the plumbing, we would not have a functioning kitchen. Get your calendars out kids - it's almost Thanksgiving. Anyway, we got to work this morning. Here's the whole kit and caboodle:
Much to our delight and satisfaction, everything went as we hoped, with no nasty surprises. Everything is reconnected, with a few (but not all) of the hardware pieces installed. Just look at those pot & pan trays! And check out the ribbed glass in the wall cabinet!

It ain't easy being SuperCouple.

Tanks Gibbon

Another day of gluttony and excess at Blauhaus is in the history books. The dinner crowd numbered eight in all. I spent most of the day cooking, as is my preference, and we sipped wine and nibbled things all the way through. Once again, we brought the Gramma Table in from the deck, and it rendered excellent service:
We had some very tasty wines. In addition to Beaujolais and a number of my perennial Trader Joe's favorites, we had Schug Sonoma Hills Pinot Noir, Cocodrilo Mendoza Cabernet (a very tasty, polished Argentinian wine), and then we enjoyed two wines of note the next day: Three Rings Shiraz and Clarendon Hills Brookman Vineyard Syrah (a powerful leather, pomegranate and spice-packed brute that we drank for last year's anniversary).

If I do say so myself, we ate well. The picture does not exactly illustrate the amount of garlic mashed potatoes I made. This is an 8-quart stockpot, mostly full of spuds:

I roasted a lot of garlic. Bryan took this pic, and it's only as much garlic as I could fit in my hand. There was plenty more. I pureed it and put most of it in the mashed potatoes, and a generous amount went into the garlic butter.
Here is the complete day's menu:

Breakfast: Maple/Bacon/Scallion cornbread, made by Lindsey (she will hopefully put a picture of that on her blog)

Grazing Nibblies: Dates stuffed with cream cheese and walnuts (by Lindz), Brie smeared with Trader Joe's ginger jam (by Lindz), smoked oysters, crackers, French bread (by me), garlic butter

Dinner: Roast Kosher turkey (Bryan obtained the 12 pound bird from Trader Joe's), cranberry-onion confit, garlic mashed potatoes, hand-made gravy, bread stuffing with apples, sage and bacon, green bean casserole (by Lindz's aunt Barbara), artichoke dip (also by Barbara), more French bread

Dessert: Mocha torte (by Bryan), ginger pumpkin pie with real whipped cream (by Lindz), too much port, not enough water (by me), about half of Bryan's bottle of Bärenjäger honey liqueur

It was an enjoyable meal, and the conversation was ebullient. Lindz and I put some real work into making the house a welcoming place (getting a big chunk of cabinet installation done, cleaning the house, cooking, etc.), and I'd say we succeeded.

Culinary Postscript: Gravy

I put a lot (probably a disproportionate amount) of care and energy into gravy. I think it is an often-undervalued item, a potent plate-unifier and vehicle for flavor. This year, I did not succeed in finding turkey wings on my last-minute trip to the Food Lion. I usually use these to make turkey stock so I don't have to rely on drippings from the main bird (they can get burned, it's a tricky, messy procedure to get them out of the pan, and you can't have them until late in the meal prep). Nevertheless, this year's gravy was good. I think my thin, sharp new Japanese knife played an important part. For the first time, I cut my aromatics truly fine. It makes a difference. Gravy is an expression of care, attention to detail, the innate flavor of the ingredients, and technique. Here is the 2007 Blauhaus Gravy:

Three carrots, brunoise cut
Three ribs of celery, brunoise cut
One medium onion, minced
Three cloves of garlic, minced
One bay leaf
One star anise
One chile de arbol
A fistful of fresh thyme sprigs
One sprig of fresh rosemary
One quart of organic chicken stock
One turkey neck
A gob of chicken Better then Bouillon, to taste
Turkey drippings (they didn't burn)
Blond roux (I think it was 3 tbsp of butter and about 1/3 c flour)
A bit of cornstarch at the end, as necessary

Sweat the carrots, celery, onion and garlic in a bit of olive oil. When they've softened a bit, add the chicken stock, turkey neck, anise, bay leaf, chile, thyme and rosemary. Simmer this slowly, stirring occasionally, while you're doing everything else. We're talking about a few hours here. Add water if you think you're reducing too much. Reduction means flavor, so balance how good it tastes with how much gravy you'll need.
Within an hour of service (but before you're dealing with getting the bird out of the oven), make some blond roux in a smaller (1 1/2 or 2 qt) saucepan. Strain the gravy into this roux pan. Squeeze what liquid you can out of the solids and discard them. Whisk. Whisk. Bring it to a simmer. Whisk. Adjust the seasoning with the Better than Bouillon (I treat it as salt in a situation like this). The gravy should be a bit thicker now. Cover it and set it aside, off the heat. Deal with the turkey and stuffing. At this point, I added the drippings while the bird was resting, and I thickened it just a bit more with cornstarch. The roux makes for a better consistency, so I didn't use cornstarch alone for thickening this.

One of the things I love about Thanksgiving is how this meal is the essence of what I see as the greatest cooking: turning humble ingredients into very special food. There were no expensive or exotic ingredients here. Next year, I want to get an heirloom turkey, or perhaps a goose, and one might consider that semi-exotic. To someone without a farm, perhaps it is. Anyway, that's next year.

Not the easiest cabinet ever

The picture doesn't exactly do justice to how much of a pain in the ass this cabinet was. We are very excited to have this one done.

First of all, it's heavy and unwieldy. A good deal of measuring and remeasuring was necessary, and we had to do some dancing, swearing, sawing, chiseling and Rube-Goldberg style rigging to get this sumbitch up. I had to construct some support devices; apparently the wife hasn't been weightlifting enough to hold 40 lbs of cabinet over her head, perfectly motionless, while I drill holes and drive screws. I also managed to nick the dishwasher drain tube with my rotary tool, so I've got a bit of plumbing to do. The dishwasher was the source of some frustration (that white expanse in the middle of the picture is a board that goes from the floor up to the soffit; moving the dishwasher to work on it caused some issues).

We'll install the cabinet to its immediate right tomorrow.

The project has had fewer surprises and frustrations (so far) than the bathroom remodel, and we're a good chunk of the way through.