The Best Thing I Ate Last Week (Week 2)

It was really a toss-up this week, with two really delicious contenders for the crown of best thing I ate last week. In the end, I think there is one that stood out more to me, but I don’t think I’ll reveal that until after I’ve described both dishes. That way each one gets its due, and there’s a new element of surprise to the article. Fun all the way around!

The two competitors couldn’t be much more different. In the near corner, we have a modified version of Chorizo and Potato Empanadas – a blend of spice, starch and sweet wrapped up in a crispy golden brown pouch. The modifications led to it not packing too much of a punch, spicy-wise, but the flavors really coalesced into a great tasting dinner. In the opposite corner is a batch of Lemon-Ricotta Pancakes – simple flapjacks made smoother and lighter with the addition of ricotta cheese, plus the zing of lemon, all topped with a dab of crème fraiche. It’s not a complicated recipe by any means, but it’s a fresh and unique twist on a breakfast staple. Which one was the best, though?

Chronologically speaking, the empanadas came first, so that’s where I’ll start. We’d been planning these for so long, but every time we decided to make them, we realized there was a lot of prep work and that we didn’t have the time for it. Finally this week, we got an early enough start - and it’s a good thing, too, since they took about an hour longer to make than we anticipated.

The ingredient that spawned this dish, to my recollection, was a batch of Farmer’s Market potatoes. Interestingly enough, the first potatoes we had were baby/fingerling types that I thought were too cute to mash and chop for the empanadas, so we had to go out and get new ones anyway. We ended up picking purple potatoes, which just look a whole lot more fun, have more antioxidants, and taste about the same as a regular white potato. In addition to that change, we substituted plain ground beef for the chorizo, which, I know, made them a little more bland. But we had a pound of ground beef sitting in the fridge that we needed to use up, and figured the spices would liven things up enough as it was.

The cooking process was very involved on these guys, and I won’t go into every detail, but here’s the condensed version. I cooked the beef with chopped onion, garlic and green onion, and mixed in lightly smashed potatoes, raisins, and broth while Stacia made a masa harina (fine corn flour) based dough. Both chilled for 30 minutes. I made lime-cilantro sour cream while Stacia rolled out the very crack-prone dough and vowed that she’d never make this recipe again. Since we don’t own a single cookie cutter, we then used a custard cup to cut out circles of dough, plopped filling mixture on it, and folded each circle in half into a pouch, hoping it didn’t crack too much. Egg wash with our new brush (very handy so far) and then into the oven.

The oven step is a little unique, since I believe the traditional way to make empanadas is to deep-fry them. We were a little concerned, but held to our motto to try the recipe mostly verbatim the first time, then modify if necessary. To our surprise and excitement, they came out crispy little pockets filled with a unique flavor sensation that, while maybe not worth the time and effort to try again, at least made for a tasty couple of dinners.

The Lemon Ricotta pancakes, on the other hand, were made entirely with items we had in the house, and was thanks to Stacia’s brilliance. The ricotta was leftover from last week’s squash blossoms, and the lemon we had from something or other, so all we ended up buying new was the crème fraiche. Now maybe you could argue we could have done without that, but it really was the perfect topping for the pancakes.

The cooking story isn’t too exciting for this meal, since pretty much all pancakes are made by mixing up a batter and cooking on a griddle. But it was kind of neat in that we first had to zest the entire lemon, using a handy microplane, and then juice the whole thing. We have some little plastic juicing tool, and I admit it did help quite a bit, but the real results came from me squeezing the hell out of the lemon until it was almost unrecognizable. Greg smash. Anyway, that, coupled with ricotta cheese, and your usual batter ingredients (eggs, flour) was pretty much it. We mixed it up and got the griddle hot.

Perhaps a little too hot, actually. We took turns making batches, cooking and flipping, and soon had a plateful of light, almost yellowy discs. The first ones we ate (which were the last to come off the griddle) were a little mushy in the middle, not cooked all the way through before the outsides got done. But as we worked our way down the stack, back to when the griddle wasn’t quite as hot, they had cooked all the way through and were delicate, flavorful versions of an old favorite. We ate them all in two consecutive mornings.

Both of these dishes were great, and perhaps each one was the best in its own totally different genre, but the title implies that there has to be one best meal, so here it is. I’m going to surprise everyone who knows me and go with the Lemon Ricotta Pancakes. I know, I’m choosing sweet over savory, and not picking the pseudo-Mexican cuisine. Very out of character. Well, the pancakes were not only equally delicious as the empanadas, but they were nostalgic, too.

You see, on our honeymoon in Sonoma two years ago, we ate breakfast the second morning at the restaurant at the Fairmont Sonoma Hot Springs Hotel. We hadn’t stayed there, but had been advised online that the Big 3 restaurant at the hotel had fantastic Lemon Cottage Cheese Pancakes. As peculiar as that sounded to me, we opted to give it a try, and it was great. It was a cool, crisp October morning in Sonoma, and we were heading up the valley toward the vineyards. We stopped at the Fairmont and started the day off with great food, smiling, chatting about the fun we’d had so far and had yet to come in the week ahead. It was a fantastic time, which was only enhanced by the delicious pancakes. Being able to even remotely replicate that atmosphere at home is simply awesome. When I think about it, it makes choosing a winner pretty easy actually.

The Best Thing I Ate Last Week

The genesis of this meal began, as most in our household do, at the farmer’s market. Des Moines has a great farmer’s market (to which I plan to one day devote an entire entry) that we attend almost every Saturday morning. Last time there we saw that one of our favorite stands, Cleverly Farms, was selling squash blossoms. I’d never eaten a squash blossom before, or any other kind of flower to my knowledge, but Stacia was excited and told me we had to get some so I could try them.

Squash blossoms are somewhat strange looking, several-inch long green pods that flare out with bright yellow petals at the end. They weigh almost nothing, and surely need to be filled with something to make any sort of substantial dish. We asked for a bag of blossoms, which we received along with a recipe sheet for a means to prepare them – stuffed with cheese, battered and fried. Perhaps not the most nutritious preparation, but it certainly sounded tasty.

We do make a point to eat one vegetarian meal per week, but as unsubstantial as the blossoms felt, it seemed a better choice to pair them with something else than to have them go it alone. Seafood jumped out to me as a nice pairing, so we decided to go that way. Fish choices are sometimes an area of consternation in our household (more on that at a later date perhaps), but I had recently spotted fresh rainbow trout in the seafood case at the local Hy-Vee and lobbied hard for its inclusion with the squash blossoms.

Trout is strangely less popular than salmon, despite the fact that they are very closely related. I’d tried it for the first time on a trip to Virginia and found it very tasty, which has continued to be the case every time since. Most is farmed in the Northwest US or Canada, but it’s done responsibly and generally does not negatively impact the local ecosystems. In my book, trout is a good fish.

A quick perusal of the Food Network’s site got us a good recipe for grilled trout, courtesy of Bobby Flay. There was the meal. Grilled trout with lemon-parsley butter, served with ricotta and parmesan stuffed squash blossoms. With a bottle of Gloria Ferrer (our favorite winery from our honeymoon in Sonoma) champagne chilling in the fridge, everything was ready to go. And a good thing, too, because by the time we had done all of the planning and shopping, we were really hungry!

Stacia and I usually cook as a team, and in this case with two separate items to be prepared, Stacia took charge of the blossoms while I wrangled with the fish. Stacia combined the cheeses and some spices, filled the blossoms with the mixture, and started dredging them in flour, egg and masa harina. We got a pan of oil hot, and as the battered blossoms were ready, they were dropped in and started a-sizzling. It looked like a lot of gooey fun, but I had bigger fish to fry. Or grill, as the case may be.

Knowing that the recipe was written by Bobby Flay, I knew it would call for grilling. I’m still not quite as comfortable with the full-size grill as I am with the George Foreman version, so I decided to go with George. Got him plugged in and heated while I brushed the trout with some olive oil using our brand-new pastry brush. Yeah, it’s seriously been like 6 years of cooking for ourselves, and we just now got a pastry brush. We’re a little silly sometimes.

While that was getting ready, I made up the lemon-parsley butter, which was way easy. Throw lemon zest, lemon juice and chopped parsley in a bowl with some butter and mash it all together with a spoon. Seriously, that was all I had to do. Bobby recommended chilling it for an hour before serving, but there was no way we were going to wait that long on everything else, so it got maybe 20 minutes but seemed no worse for it.

I had a diabolical plan for using the George to replicate what Mr. Flay was going for on his grill. He called for grilling skin side down for a longer time to get the skin crispy, then flipping just to cook through. I have mixed feelings on eating fish skin, crispy or otherwise, but I thought I should try to make it that way and decide whether or not to eat the skin if it turned out

Anyway, my plan was to not make use of the George’s capability of cooking two sides at once. I’d leave the top open while I grilled the skin side, then flip it towards the end of the cook time to finish the rest. First problem was that Stacia was already frying squash blossoms before George was hot, so I didn’t get it as preheated as I think you’d need to crisp up the skin. I was in a hurry so I just threw the fish on and got it cooking. After a few minutes of that, I carefully slid the flipper underneath and was shocked to discover the skin was getting a little crispy!

Unfortunately, the flipper was also wanting to dig into the crispy skin and tear it off, so a little improvisation was necessary. I decided to keep the fillet skin-side down, and close the grill plates for the last few minutes to cook the top side. I figured that was basically the same idea, cooking the skin side for a little bit longer. After that had gone for a few minutes, the fish was ready and Stacia’s blossoms were just finishing up, too. We put half the trout on each plate, topped with lemon-parsley butter, and placed half of the blossoms alongside. With a glass of champagne, a plate of fresh food and a nice breeze on the deck, we sat down to enjoy our dinner.

Everything turned out to be very tasty, although the fish skin didn’t crisp all the way through. It was a little crispy on the outside, but turned to a skinlike texture closer to the meat, so we didn’t try to eat it. No great loss, since I wasn’t sure I would’ve even if it had turned out. The rest of the trout was great. The meat was perfectly flaky, and the sauce of fresh lemon and parsley really made it pop. Stacia said it tasted very fresh, and I think that’s a good word to describe the result. And the squash blossoms were neat, kind of a ricotta-parmesan fritter. The blossom itself didn’t have too much of a flavor, but the breading turned out great with a nice little crunch on the outside, and a nice savory filling within. The two really went well together, and turned out to be the best thing I ate last week.

If I CAN Learn to Do It, You CAN Learn to Do It

I have a gallon of pickles in the pantry right now. I know that can be hard to imagine, so I’ll just pause here a moment to let that sink in. A gallon of pickles. Like if the milk jug didn’t have any milk in it and instead was full of pickles. Not that that would be really any good for anyone, but it does get a nice visual. I mean imagine waking up and pouring out a bowl of cereal only to find the milk jug full of pickles. Ugh. Not the best way to start the day. Anyway, I’m getting a little sidetracked here, especially since they are in four separate quart containers, not a milk jug. I just like to think of it as a gallon because it makes it more clear what a cool accomplishment it was.

Now, simply having a gallon of pickles isn’t really a great feat. It’s not something Hercules would have set out to do, or some sort of Mission Impossible task. Anyone, Greek heroes and Tom Cruise included can simply jaunt over to the nearest grocery store, pick up four jars of pickles (Hercules would do it with one hand, by the way), and buy them. Presto! A gallon of pickles in the pantry. So how about this? The whole lot of them, with the exception of one teensy little insignificant equipment expense, cost $1.68. That’s some good bang for the buck, pickled vegetable-wise.

Of course, the argument could be made that such an incredible quantity of pickles, obtained for such an astonishingly low price, is not so spectacular an achievement. Suppose these pickles were on clearance at the store? Maybe they were expired, or about to expire, if something surrounded by brine and vinegar can even expire in the first place. Then perhaps the store, in a quest to rid itself of the overzealously ordered and apparently unloved pickles, marked them down to, say 42 cents per jar. A strange price point, to be sure, but that’s not to say that it couldn’t have happened. It didn’t, for the record. No, these were so inexpensive because, we made them ourselves!

The whole story begins several weeks ago, when we received a surprise visitor. Or more accurately, an expected visitor, though that sounds much less intriguing. Or to be more accurate still, a visit from my Mother-in-law. She stopped in to town to visit us, we went out to lunch, checked out a local winery, went shopping at the mall, chatted and snacked, watched a movie, and much fun was had by all. I expected that we’d all have a good time. What I did not expect is that she would come bearing a bag of cucumbers. Almost eight pounds of cucumbers which were going to be unused in Edgewood, and naturally were given to us. Maybe because we’re so cool? (Ouch, lame joke).

It was during the aforementioned snacking and chatting stage that the cucumbers were discussed further. My wife or I indicated that we had no idea what we would do with eight pounds of cucumbers, short of building a green Lincoln Log-style fort. Then my Mother-in-law mentioned how easy it would be to make them into pickle relish, and since the vinegar would help preserve things, they could even be stored in the refrigerator in old jars from the store, without sealing. That made things start to sound more interesting.

The final piece of the puzzle came just a few days later, on a random browsing trip to World Market. Sipping my sample tea and meandering through the food aisles, on the lookout for a bargain or currant Lakerol, something caught my eye. A small pouch, with pictures of pickles (or pickle pictures) on the front, and better yet, a red clearance sticker. It was a seasoning mix for making pickles, marked down to $1.68! That was all we needed, cosmically speaking. Through the free cucumbers, the relish suggestion, and the clearance spices, it was clear that the universe wanted us to make pickles. The reason has yet to be revealed - maybe the universe has a burger it needs to garnish - but we certainly weren’t going to ignore the signs.

There’s an old saying about helping those who help themselves or something, so we weren’t going to wait for the universe to plop a canner into our laps. We took the initiative on that one and outfitted ourselves with a top notch pressure canner, pint and quart jars, and a toolkit to help fill and handle the hot jars. This would be that minor equipment expenditure I mentioned earlier. It’s kind of an inside joke for people who have bought canners before. See, they’re not actually cheap. Get it? But we had everything we needed to make pickles, we weren’t going to give up with the finish line in sight. Sure, the entertainment budget took a hit that month, but it turned out making the pickles was entertainment in itself.

That is, if frenzied and harried rushing around with stuff you’ve never used before is entertainment. The jars need to be washed and then kept warm. The cukes need to be sliced and crammed into the jars, then covered with hot (not boiling) pickling liquid. The lids need to be pulled out of a pot of hot (not boiling) water and placed on top. Then the ring gets tightened down and the jar is put into the canner full of boiling (and hot) water, for a prescribed amount of time. It is possible that you can take your time doing all of this, but I’d never done it before, so I was trying to get everything full, closed down and put in the water while things were still hot. It was just like preparing Thanksgiving dinner, assuming that you were just serving pickles for Thanksgiving, which I have to say is a little weird.

Eventually the jars came out, and one by one, we heard the “pop!” noise that meant all four jars had sealed. Following a brief happy dance, we got to end the entire ordeal… by putting the jars into the pantry. You see, they need to pickle and marinate for something like four weeks before you can even think about eating them. So don’t ask me how they taste. I said I have a gallon of pickles in the pantry, not a gallon of pickles in my belly. But give me a few more weeks, and that will all change. If you think it’s impressive to make that many pickles, just wait ‘til I find out how quickly we can consume a gallon of them. Now that should be interesting.