I need sunshine
spice cataloguing, rhubarb season, and vegan-ish pizza
Does it feel like May where you are? I don’t know if it’s the grey weather or the fact that every day is essentially the same in form and function, but it feels like April only just started, not at all like June is just around the corner. I took myself to the brewery the other afternoon to do some reading on the patio, and even though the sun was shining I still wasn’t warm enough to take my hat off, never mind my jacket. But the seeds are sprouting in the garden and the light of dawn comes before 6am, so I guess summer is still coming. May always feels like a coin toss for whether it’s unseasonably warm or nonstop rain, but I hope I can at least get one barbecue in by the time the long weekend rolls around.
Recently I felt the urge to organize my spice cupboard, as one does. I don’t mean the jars of spices I use on a regular basis (I have muscle memory of where each one of these is so it’s not needed), I’m talking about the messy baskets of extras that wouldn’t all fit from the bulk bag into the jar. Years ago in a stroke of pure genius, I created an inventory of all these and taped it to the inside of the cupboard, so that when a jar ran empty I’d know if I had more of something or not. Unfortunately, I never really updated it after that initial inventory, so over time it became wildly incorrect, and I’d end up buying more mustards seeds only to find another bag of mustard seeds while putting them away.
After taking everything out and refilling the jars, I organized the bins and made a new list, vowing to be more attentive to it. While I was immersed in this process, Jeff in the other room would be drawn into the kitchen after hearing me shout things like, “What is this and why do we have it?!” When I complained that we have two enormous boxes of kasoori methi, he responded with, “We need to make butter chicken.” This is one of the recipes Jeff is known for, and which came highly coveted from a chef at one of his previous jobs (more on that here). Over the years we’ve managed to sub coconut milk for the heavy cream and it’s still completely delicious; we’ve also made it with tofu or mushrooms instead of chicken and it works really well.
Because this is always made by just eyeballing the measurements he has written down, it comes out slightly different every time, but it’s easy to adjust for taste. We both tried and decided the flavour of this batch was a bit thin, and needed more spice. We added some Pain Is Good garlic hot sauce, and I suggested a dash of fish sauce to bump up the umami. It worked perfectly, despite the fact that these are not generally things you’d find in Indian cooking (but considering butter chicken was created for white colonists, I don’t think authenticity is really a concern here). I’d made the roasted aloo gobi from Indian-ish as well, and it was the perfect side since it’s milder and has more texture. My only regret is that we didn’t have time to make naan to mop up the sauce.
While rooting through the cheese drawer I discovered we still had half a package of Miyoko’s fresh-style vegan mozzarella, and remembered with excitement that I’d intended to make vegan margherita pizza. A margherita is maybe my favourite classic pizza, but I so rarely get to make or eat it with Jeff, who is unable to consume dairy with the reckless abandon I get to enjoy. This is a cashew-based mozz with a really great texture that tears and softens almost like a real mozzarella di bufala, and doesn’t have the weird aftertaste of some of the big name cheezes.
For the second pizza, I had to use up some shiitakes and wasn’t really sure what to do with them. I ended up chopping a little black garlic (fermented garlic whose flavour is reminiscent of aged balsamic vinegar) and crumbling goat feta overtop of the mushrooms and a few sliced shallots, also adding the last bits of the vegan mozza. I really liked this pizza but it took longer to cook due to the water content of the mushrooms, so I think I might par-cook them in a frying pan first next time.
Rhubarb showed up at the farmers’ market on the weekend, and I instantly bought some. I love making strawberry-rhubarb pie but it seems strawberries aren’t quite ready yet, so I decided to try the brown butter rhubarb tart in the Bouchon Bakery book. If you know anything about Bouchon or Thomas Keller, it won’t surprise you that this recipe involved multiple components and fussy details taking place over more than a day, so I used it more as a guide than an instruction manual. Still, making a tart can be an all-day process that leaves you a broken shell of a man, and at 9:30pm when I finally took the tart I’d begun making at 1:30 out of the oven, I wondered why the hell I didn’t just make a plain rhubarb pie.
The filling was similar to the plum-almond tart I made in the fall: frangipane topped with fruit, but with the magic of brown butter to complement the tart rhubarb. I coated the rhubarb in sugar and a rum-based fruit liqueur we’d made a few years ago, and let it sit in the fridge for a few hours to sweeten and release some of the moisture— in the Bouchon recipe this is done with sugar and grenadine over 24 hours, but who has that kind of time? Also, who keeps grenadine in their house?
The combination was lovely and the flavour of the brown butter didn’t disappear (I sometimes find in baking it gets overpowered by other ingredients), but the rhubarb was still fairly tart. I think since I opted out of the almond streusel from the original recipe I should have added some raw sugar to the top before baking, or maybe served it with a scoop of ice cream. But I don’t mind a less-sweet dessert, and overall I was just thankful the curing step saved this from the fate of the plum tart, where the fruit released so much juice during baking that the filling never fully set.
We revisited a few standbys this week: after a busy Saturday of errands, some extremely quick and delicious black bean tacos based on this recipe. I add a lot more seasonings to the filling, and also don’t always fry the tortillas until fully crisp; they’re still really good just browned in oil for a few seconds on either side. And this week’s dreary weather was the perfect excuse to make the sesame ramen with tofu and shiitakes (my notes on making this initially are here). I have the order of operations for making this down perfectly now so it only takes about 25-30 minutes, although it does dirty more dishes than seems reasonable.
To use up the other half of the massive cauliflower from the aloo gobi, I made this early pandemic fave: a fantastic creamy cauliflower pasta with pecorino breadcrumbs, subbing leftover coconut milk for the heavy cream. I always roast the cauliflower because it takes ages to cook in the pan. The breadcrumbs make more than you need for the recipe, but the extras can be used for any other pasta or on top of a salad with a creamy dressing (or for snacking on while you cook).
Media:
I was happy to see this piece discussing approaches to wasting less food, a subject I care about a lot. The piece is for Wirecutter so there are a bunch of gadgets and product links in the article that in my opinion aren’t super necessary, but the base content is still really useful, and it includes many of my personal approaches towards to cooking with minimal waste. The piece also points out that a lot of these strategies will help you gain skill and confidence in the kitchen at the same time.
Adjusting recipes to use what you have instead of buying a bunch of specific ingredients to follow it to the letter was something I learned to do as I grew as a cook, and it helps a lot. I’ll stir a little yogurt into some oat milk rather than go out and buy a whole litre of buttermilk, or adapt a recipe for one vegetable to use another if I have something else in my produce drawer. Labelling and dating leftovers and freezer items might seem obvious but we all get lazy about it, and it’s amazing how much easier it is to make good use of things when you can quickly see what something is and when it was made.
I agree that policies for agriculture, industrial storage and transport, and food sales are where the biggest changes need to be made in order to combat global food waste, but it still feels good to be able to use more of the food we buy (and consequently, waste less money!) at home.
Thanks for reading— if you enjoyed this newsletter, please smash that like button below, or share it with someone new! I like providing this to you for free, but it does still involve time and effort, so donations I can use towards cookbooks or future treats are much appreciated. It’s also an appropriate time as ever to support the Northwest Abortion Access Fund, or another similar fund closer to you if you haven’t already. Let’s do what we can to take care of each other in this deeply broken system.