Thursday, September 4, 2008

Long-Overdue Nibbles - and Zai Jian!

Guess what?!? I'm going to China! Tomorrow! For almost a month! I'm going to eat my body weight in xiaolongbao, and I'm going to love every minute of it. I promise to return with many pictures and much to share, but before I leave, I want to share with you some photos (of varying levels of quality - ranging of course from poor to shamefully awful) of some great meals I had in Chicago before I left. I've been sitting on most of these for a ridiculous amount of time, so my descriptions will clearly suffer, but I enjoyed all three of these meals, and would recommend a visit to any of these establishments in a heartbeat.

The first was a celebratory dinner at May St. Market.

We began with a few appetizers - the Maytag Bleu Cheesecake, which I knew I was ordering before I stepped into the restaurant (and which I dug my fork into so quickly that no picture could be taken) and a special soft shell crab spring roll, which was good, but quite overpriced for what it was, especially compared to the rest of the menu, which is all pretty reasonably priced.

Then came the entrees:

I had the duck breast with couscous and dried fruit (mostly figs as I recall, though this was literally almost three months ago so please bear with me).



The duck was cooked expertly - I am not a duck person, so every other person at the table was completely taken aback when I ordered it, and even more so when I declared that I loved it. It was juicy, meaty, and not overly fatty - the couscous was delicious and the jus pulled it all together beautifully. The bitterness and saltiness of the arugula and pecorino cheese, draped over the rest of the plate, helped tie everything together and bring some lightness to an otherwise rather heavy dish.

My brother and mother ordered the horseradish crusted Alaskan halibut, which was accompanied by a radish and celery leaf salad, horseradish cream, parsnip puree and a celery leaf emulsion (the menu currently says that it is celery leaf emulsion, but I am not completely sure that was the case three months ago, but I'm going to run with it).



I managed to sneak a little taste of this before it was devoured, and it was quite delicious, tender and expertly cooked, with the perfect amount of bite added from the horseradish. They split that and a cioppino, which was filled with great looking seafood, and accompanied by some delicious-looking crusty bread for the-dunkin'. I didn't get a chance to taste this one, but judging from the fact that nothing was left, I feel safe saying that it went over well.

My father and Andrew ordered the steak (can't remember what cut it was), which was accompanied by a sweet glaze, peaches, arugula, a basked of french fries and some homemade ketchup:



The steak was good, I wasn't wowed, but there was certainly nothing wrong with the dish. The ketchup was great, though, fresh and faintly spicy, it put Heinz to shame.

Throughout the meal, we munched on bread with two types of butter, one plain and one a red wine truffle butter.


I found the latter to be strangely delicious, slightly sweet and slightly earthy, and totally awesome.

As far as service went, the waitress was incredibly helpful and made recommendations for each of us. My dad's steak came out cold, and no fuss was made when he sent it back. When reheated, it came back rubbery and dry (as reheated steaks tend to do), so it was sent back once again, and the manager came out and was incredibly gracious and saw to it that everything else was lovely. I would go back in a heartbeat, and I suggest you pay a visit. They have an early evening prix fixe menu, which I believe is offered until 7:30 or 8 every day, and is $32 for three courses, a/k/a a great deal.

May Street Market
1132 W. Grand St. (at May St.)
Chicago
(312) 421-5547

The next meal I'd like to share was at San Soo Gab San, and was more of an experience than any of the others. I had never had Korean BBQ before (having shunned red meat for a while there was really no draw there for me - am I ever glad those days are behind me).

For those of you who don't know, Korean BBQ is about as interactive a meal as they get. First what seems like 942 tiny plates filled with little bites are brought for the table (called Panchan), which are to be eaten either on their own, or piled into lettuce wraps with the meat, or really, however you desire. That hole you see in the middle of the table becomes the grill once you've placed your order, and you are then handed a giant plate of raw meat, which the designated griller at the table places on the grill and cooks up for the rest of the grateful diners. What this means is that you leave Korean BBQ and smell like the inside of a barbeque. It's just the price you have to pay, and it's worth it.

The arsenal of Panchan:



We had a couple of appetizers, the first of which was a seafood pancake, called, I believe a Pajun, and filled with squid and beef and accompanied by a soy dipping sauce:*


* I could be totally making this up - please inform me if I am wrong.

We also had some Chapche, which are cellophane noodles stir-fried with vegetables and beef:



Both appetizers were alright -nothing really to write home (or you) about, I found the Pajun far too oily - but that's not why you're there anyway - you're there for piles upon piles of meat.



We went for the Kalbi (marinated short ribs) and the Bulgogi (marinated ribeye), both of which are sliced thin to make for quick cooking on the grill. They're brought to the table with lettuce leaves and rice, used to make wraps for easy handling of the meat. The meat was pretty damn good, nothing too crazy or high-quality, but tasty, salty, amazing nonetheless.

Some of us chose to use tidy proportions of rice, meat and panchan to make an easily manageable wrap:



While some went totally crazy and filled their lettuce leaves with reckless disregard of such proportions:



My first experience with Korean BBQ was messy and delicious, and the lingering smell of meat that permeated my body ensured that I was not soon to forget it.

San Soo Gab San
5247 N Western Ave (between Berwyn Ave & Farragut Ave)
Chicago
(773) 334-1589

The final meal was at Bonsoiree, which I have written about here before. This time, we went for the Special Saturday Underground dinner, the menu for which is sent out to those on the restaurant's mailing list (sign up is at their website, link here and below) usually on Tuesday, disclosing the set meal for the coming Saturday. Having really enjoyed the restaurant the first time I went, I was really looking forward to returning for one of these underground events.

Summer is really a wonderful time to eat at Bonsoiree, since they have an outdoor patio out back that is charmingly reminiscent of a cozy backyard. It was, however, ridiculously dark back there, at times making it impossible for me to see my food, forget snap a photo of it. The BYOB aspect really makes the restaurant an attractive choice for a nice meal as well.

The meal began with an amuse bouche of shrimp in red curry. It appears to have been the same curry that the mussels came in on my first visit, and it was no less delicious this time.



We then were served an heirloom tomato and salsify salad with haricots vert and creamy champagne vinaigrette. The salad was delicious, the tomatoes bursting with flavor, with the vinagrette bringing out the subtleties of flavor, rather than overwhelming it.

The second course was French Onion Soup with Gruyere Baked Bread and Shaved Black Truffle:



It seemed an odd thing to serve in early August, but it was actually delicious. The Baked Bread was a flatbread rolled up with Gruyere inside, and it made a great vessel to dip into the soup. The soup was delicate, not overly cheesy or heavy, which (I guess), made it a bit more appropriate for a warm summer night. Maybe.

Up next was Pork Belly, Lump Crab, Pineapple-Shiso Ham and Star Anise:



The pork belly was cooked fantastically, allowing for a contrast between crispy and lusciously fatty to arise. The pineapple jam went effortlessly with the pork, the sweetness and the texture both serving to heighten the flavors of the pork. The lump crab was fresh and light. The dish seemed a bit disconnected, and though the pineapple jam worked well with both the crab and the pork, it seemed better suited to the pork, and the crab seemed to have less of a role in the overall dish. Not that I'm really complaining, though, it was definitely good.

The main was a Japanese Barbequed Ribeye, with Chestnut Whipped Potato, Peppers in Ponzu, Crispy Parsnip, Mustard Jus and a Special Barbeque Sauce:



The ribeye was cooked to a fantastic medium-rare, and the potatoes were hearty and tasty. The mustard sauce received mixed reviews, but the barbeque sauce was a the clear winner. What couldn't be disputed, though was that the portions were pretty generous, and I couldn't come close to tackling the amount of steak that had been handed to me. Once again, this dish seemed a bit seasonally inappropriate - a shockingly heavy dish to serve on the first Saturday of August.

Oh well, onto dessert - Lotus root custard, cinnamon sorbet and gooseberry coulis:



The custard was awesome - I really liked the hunks of lotus root that were dotted within the creamy mass on the plate. The cinnamon sorbet was amazing, and I found myself craving it for weeks afterwards. Cinnamon ice cream I have had many times before, but I don't think I had ever had cinnamon sorbet before, and it was quite interesting how the force of the cinnamon was able to more clearly come through, not being softened at all by cream. Each bite tasted of cinnamon sugar, and each bite was delicious.

The meal was lovely, and ridiculously filling, and surprisingly autumnal. The course selection and flavorings of many of the courses were a bit odd for a summer evening. In fact many of the flavors, cinnamon, parsnip, chestnut, remind me more of fall than of the dead of summer. It was a delicious meal nonetheless, though not as exciting as the first visit, since I knew what was coming, it reaffirmed that Bonsoiree is indeed a delicious Chicago destination.

Bonsoiree Café and Delicacies
2728 W Armitage (between Fairfield and Washtenaw Aves)
(773) 486-7511

Thursday, August 28, 2008

Deliciously Out-of-Season



Yea, so this recipe is pretty much seasonally inappropriate right now. But with all the stuff I've had to take care of in the past couple of months (i.e. the bar exam, moving, finding an apartment, booking a trip!), I just haven't had a chance to share it until now. I do hope you'll forgive me.

Rhubarb holds a special place in my heart. I had never tried it before I lived in Austria for six months in high school. My host mother made a wonderful rhubarb tart often, and it was always delicious. Faintly sweet, with the slightest pucker that makes the taste buds stand at attention - I could tell that rhubarb was good stuff.

Rhubarb is a truly fascinating thing - somewhat mystical in its taste, texture and flavor. It really is like nothing else - it's essentially inedible raw, it's leaves are poisonous, it really is like nothing else, and it technically is a vegetable after all. However, once cooked, it becomes something great, it practically melts into something delicate and complex, and it's combination with strawberry creates one of the most classic of food duos. The two complement each other so effortlessly, as the mellow tartness of the rhubarb plays off of the universally-adored sweetness of the strawberry.



This cobbler is especially great at the end of an early summer BBQ, shared with friends all basking in the glow of law school graduation and a shared shirking of bar-review responsibilities (even when the BBQ turns into an indoor grill-fest because, ahem, my lovely friend Sara failed to check that the grill was operational; actually, cobbler is especially good in such a situation). Warm from the oven and topped with vanilla ice cream, it's comfort food in it's purest form.


Cobbler is the type of dessert that even those who don't care much for dessert enjoy. It must be because you don't have to love dessert to love fruit, and cobbler is among the most delicious of ways to showcase summer's bounty.



Though I can only attest to the deliciousness of the precise recipe shared below, I can only imagine that any type of fruit would result in an equally delicious cobbler, since the cornbread-biscuit topping is delicious and hearty and complements the sweetness of the fruit oh-so well. Next time I make this, it's going to be with peaches, since peach cobbler and cornbread are mainstays of any good southern square, why not compact the two into a glorious, sweet, savory, crumbly dish of summer? Just replace the strawberries and rhubarb with some sliced peaches (I'd imagine about two-or-so pounds would do just fine, a few tablespoons of sugar and a tablespoon of cornstarch, bake the peaches a bit before topping with the biscuit mixture. Once topped, just bake as below for about 25 minutes.



Strawberry Rhubarb Cobbler With Cornmeal Biscuit Topping


OK, so this recipe should have been shared in late spring. For that I apologize, BUT - with the wide array of high-quality frozen fruits available, a good cobbler can be enjoyed any time of year.

When I baked this, I found the cornbread biscuit to overwhelm the fruit topping a bit in its volume. The proportions were just a bit out of whack, so in the recipe below I have adjusted the fruit filling a bit (such that it should fit a 9 x 13 inch baking dish, as opposed to a pie dish, which the original recipe called for), but I have left the topping unadjusted. If the proportions in the picture look good to you, I have put the adjusted amounts in parentheses.


Adapted from Bon Appétit, April 1996; recipe from epicurious.com

Filling
1/2 cup sugar
2 tablespoons all purpose flour
1/8 teaspoon ground cloves
2 lbs strawberries, hulled, halved
2 cups 1/3 to 1/4-inch-thick slices fresh or frozen rhubarb
Topping
1 cup all purpose flour (1 1/3 cup)
1/3 cup sugar (4/9 cups, or about 1/3 cup + 2 tablespoons)
1/4 cup yellow cornmeal (1/3 cup)
1 tablespoon baking powder (1 tablespoon + 1 teaspoon)
1 teaspoon baking soda (1 1/3 teaspoons)
Pinch of salt
3 tablespoons chilled unsalted butter, diced (4 tablespoons)
1/2 cup low-fat buttermilk (3/4 cup)

To Make Filling:

Preheat oven to 400°F. Mix sugar, flour and cloves in large bowl. Add strawberries and rhubarb and toss to coat with sugar mixture. Transfer filling to 9 x 13 inch baking dish.

To Make Topping:

Mix flour, sugar, cornmeal, baking powder, baking soda and salt in medium bowl. Add butter and rub in with fingertips until mixture resembles coarse meal. Gradually add buttermilk, tossing with fork until moist clumps form (do not overmix). Spoon topping evenly over filling.

Bake until topping is golden brown and filling is tender, about 25 minutes. Serve warm or at room temperature. Top with ice cream, if you know what's good for you.

Sunday, August 10, 2008

Beeting the Heat

Hello? Anyone there? The bar is (mercifully) over, I have moved out of Chicago, and I am back! For my first post back, I wanted to share with you a recipe that was a constant in my kitchen for a decent portion of the last two months.



There are some things that we eat just because they're good for us. There are things that we eat in spite of the fact that they're, um, not as good for us. Then there are things that fall graciously into both categories, allowing us to eat what we truly enjoy, while reducing the guilt factor by just so happening to be something good for you. For me, beets are one of those generous foods - they allow me to enjoy what I'm eating knowing that I'm doing both my palette and my body a great favor. Not-so-recently there was a post on the NY Times Health Blog of the 11 healthiest foods out there that they presumptuously concluded you and I are not eating, and beets were number one. However, the article noted that cooking them tempts out all the antioxidants and nutrients that make them oh-so-good for you.

I don't know about all of you, but not until recently did I even think of eating a beet uncooked. I love beets, more perhaps than most normal people do, but I had always eaten them cooked. It seemed to be such a rough, hulking root that trying to bite into it without cooking would greatly reduce the enjoyment gained from eating it. However, grating the beets provides an excellent solution to this problem. Fine shreds of beets have a wonderfully inviting crunch and pleasant texture, and just taste that much better knowing how much better it is for you.

The following recipe is not as much of a recipe as it is a jumble of delicious things that become only more delicious when thrown haphazardly together and eaten straight out of the mixing bowl, unless - I guess - you wish to share. I found it in Mark Bittman's list of 101 picnic ideas that was published in the Times dining section earlier this summer. Since everything could be made in under 20 minutes it seemed like the natural place for me to turn while studying for the bar. I unfortunately did not have a chance to get to any other ideas on the list*, but this salad is colorful, refreshing, fresh and healthy - everything a summer salad should be.



I should warn, however, that if you choose to eat this as your main course, there is a slight possibility it will make you pee magenta. This happened to me, and it scared the shit out of me, because, you know - who pees magenta? Really? Once I made the beet-magenta pee connection, I did some internet research and discovered that eating beets causes this same reaction in 14% of the population, and is purportedly a sign of an iron-deficient diet. I'm sticking with the fact that only 14% of the population is eating enough beets to have this reaction. I, for one, am proud to call myself a magenta-peeing beet-eater. I am curious as to whether this actually happens to other people, so if you try this salad leave a comment letting me know!

* Note: this salad is, in fact, number ONE on the list of 101 picnic ideas, so some might say that I didn't get anywhere on the list. Some.



Raw Beet Salad with Pistachios and Goat Cheese

These measurements are all approximate. I just added until i liked the way it tasted, which is easy to do when dealing with a salad. I've made this with both soft goat cheese and semi-soft, and both work equally well. I like to add a bit more cheese atop the bowl just so that there is something in there that is not dyed magenta.

This took me just about 20 minutes to make, but will take no more than 5 minutes if made with a food processor. If you're grating by hand, do yourself a favor and wear dark clothes; that garnet-toned juice, gorgeous as it may be, is not as gorgeous when forever stained on your favorite t-shirt.

2-3 medium-sized beets, peeled
Zest of one-half of an orange
Juice of one-half to one orange (depending on your taste and the size of your beets)
1 1/2 teaspoons olive oil
1-2 ounces of goat cheese
1/4-1/2 cup of pistachios, roughly chopped
2-3 tablespoons chopped parsley

Grate beets either with a box grater or in the food processor, being sure to capture all the juice. Add the orange zest, orange juice and olive oil, adjusting to taste.

Add the chopped pistachios and parsley and mix to combine. Crumble the goat cheese over the beets and gently mix to distribute. Sprinkle with some sea salt and freshly cracked pepper to taste, dig in, and enjoy.