Harissa

Let's just say these few years have been a bit of a whirlwind of change. From a new employer to being self-employed. From three furry and aged companions to two young and sprightly ones. From one less than stellar love match to another less than stellar love match.  And while I spun about and danced on the latest gust of wind, my posts became perfunctory and infrequent.  A glimpse here, a word there -- only a small number of recipes saw the bluey-white light of my screen, from the trove of potential posts that remain in my mind.

Today's post is one of those recipes that's lingered for months.

I noticed harissa began to pop up more frequently in ingredients lists, but like pretty much every other trend, I didn't pay much attention. It was the new sriracha, making it the new ketchup, making it relatively ubiquitous.  At once it was commonplace and exotic.  Without the time to research or make my own, I excelled at makeshift substitutions, cobbled together with what resided in my sticky-shelved pantry.

Eventually, I found a bottle of it in my swanky specialty shop of choice.  I was disappointed.  It was bitter and bland and bit oily, which belied its "spicy" label.  I continued to use it, spiked with the same residents from my sticky-shelved pantry. The banal was made bearable.

Despite that rather disappointing introduction, I was determined to find out why so many people were enamoured with it. I found my inner Phryne and pored over books and articles. Unsurprisingly, unlike that little overpriced jar from California, real harissa is varied and complex.  Like any homemade condiment, this chilli paste changes from cook to cook, some adding grilled capsicums, others use tomato passata, and still others include rosewater or citrus.

My version is a combination of Paula Wolfert's harous and Claudia Roden's harissa.  The resulting vermillion paste has a pleasing and rounded heat.  While I've been known to spoon a little as a condiment with my dinner, I also use it in marinades and mix it with mayonnaise for frites or beefy sandwiches.  It keeps in the fridge for weeks.




Harissa 
Adapted Claudia Roden's harissa recipe and Paula Wolfert's harous recipe.
Yield: approx 80ml (1/3c)

Ingredients
1 shallot, thinly sliced
Pinch Turmeric
1 dspn/2tsp 10ml salt, divided
50g (2oz) dried chillies (see notes)
1tsp 5ml whole coriander seed
1tsp 5ml whole caraway seed
1tsp 5ml whole cumin seed
2 garlic cloves
Pinch of cinnamon
2dspn/1-1/2Tbsp 40ml extra-virgin olive oil

Method
Combine shallot with turmeric and 1tsp salt. Cover with cling and let stand at room temperature for an hour (or up to overnight).

Dry toast the whole spices.  Cool before grinding into a fine powder. Set aside.

Rehydrate chillies with boiling water for about 30-45 minutes, until they are soft and pliable. Drain, stem and deseed before giving them a coarse grind. Add the shallots (draining, if necessary) and garlic and continue grinding until smooth. Add the powdered spices, remaining teaspoon of salt and olive oil. Continue grinding until you have a smooth puree. Balance flavours to taste.

Notes
Choose whichever varietal you wish, or create your own blend from a mix of hot, sweet and smokey peppers.  I used roughly equal weights of ancho, arbol, guajillo and pasilla chillies.

cheers!
jasmine
I'm a quill for hire!

Cook For Julia: Seeni Sambol

For the next few days PBS food celebrates what would have been Julia Child's 100th birthday. Their senior food editor sent me a note several weeks ago asking me to write a tribute--you can find it here.

In as much as she was a great force in American (and North American cooking) I have to admit that I really didn't know all that much about Julia. From her various cookery shows, I knew she was a cookbook author and teacher; she was tall and has a sing-song voice. She was devoted to her husband Paul, loved cats and she was, at some point in her life, was part the US's Office of Strategic Services, where she worked on top secret things during the war. I also gleaned this and that from Nora Ephron's Julie and Julia.

I picked up Noel Riley Fitch's Appetite for Life: The Biography of Julia Child. I'm about half-way through (various things kept distracting me--I hope to finish it by summer's end). I've just gotten to the point where Julia McWilliams has returned to the US, from OSS duties in Asia, and she is absolutely besotted with the older and much more worldly Paul Child.

I am totally engrossed in this love story...and I say that as someone who rolls their eyes at such things (well, except for Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy)...I know there are decades ahead for them, and I'm looking forward to following their journeys.

When I thought of my own foodish tribute #CookForJulia tribute, I decided to not go with one of her recipes, but instead take inspiration from an important point in her life.

Julia met Paul, when they were both stationed in the OSS in Sri Lanka. She was young and free. But then came Paul who would open her to many new experiences, including exploring local cuisines where they were stationed. Not much is said about the foods they ate (or if there was, I don't recall). My guess is their cooks made available meals palatable to Americans and the British who were homesick, as well as some curries. That said, in my mind, I want to believe Paul may have introduced her to local home cooking.

In looking through my cookery library for Sri Lankan dishes, I came across Sri Lankan sambols--condiments made by grinding ingredients with a paste, served with meals and snack. Most of the recipes I have are for uncooked sambols, but I chose to make Seeni Sambol, a cooked condiment from Jeffrey Allford and Naomi Duguid's Mangoes and Curry Leaves.

This is a very easy dish to make, but it does require time and attention. The end result is a gorgeous brick red, salty-sweet-sour-hot dish that can be used to accompany meats, used as a dip, or to flavour soups, or mixed with other ingredients for marinade.

Seeni Sambol

Adapted from Jeffrey Allford and Naomi Duguid's Sri Lankan Seeni Sambol in Mangoes and Curry Leaves.

Yield: 310ml ( 1.25c)

Ingredients

60ml (0.25c) flavourless oil or coconut oil

750ml (3c) thinly sliced red onion (approximately one very large onion)

60ml (0.25c) minced garlic (approximately 10cloves)

2Tbsp (30ml) minced ginger

10 fresh curry leaves

8 dried red chillies, stemmed and crushed

1.5tsp (7.5ml) fish sauce (optional)

5ml (1tsp) ground cinnamon

0.6ml (1/8-tsp) ground cardamom

0.6ml (1/8-tsp) ground cloves

185ml (0.75c) coconut milk

0.5tsp (2.5ml) salt, to taste

juice of one lime

sugar, to taste

Method

Over a medium-hight flame, heat the oil in a heavy-bottomed pan. Add the onions, garlic and ginger. Stir frequently until all the water has evaporated and the onions have softened and caramelized, turning colour from a spring lilac to a golden colour.

Stir in the curry leaves, dried chillis, fish sauce, cinnamon, cardamom, cloves and coconut milk. When the mixture starts to bubble, turn down the heat to a bare simmer and let blurble for about 30-40 minutes, stirring every so often, so the mixture doesn't catch on the bottom of the pan. Don't be concerned as to it's pinkish-grey hue--it will deepen in colour as it simmers.

Remove from heat, add the lime juice, salt and sugar. Stir well. Puree to a smooth paste (the curry leaves are slightly fibrous, so don't be surprised if you see threads wrapped around the blades). Balance flavours to taste.

Let cool to room temperature before storing in a sealed jar. This will keep for a month in the refrigerator.

Serving Suggestions

• Alongside puri, parathas
• As a condiment chicken, fish or pork or kebabs
• Mixed into tuna salad
• Spread on toast
• Mixed with mayonnaise and served with fish or chicken fingers
• Mixed with sour cream or Greek yoghurt as a dip for pitas or tortillas

For other Julia Child-related posts I've done, click here.

Bon appetit!

jasmine

I'm a quill for hire!

I relish these hot dogs

I was never a real fan of hot dogs--their flavour and texture never quite did it for me and I never quite figured out why my childhood friends or my parents ate them. Add a secondary school trip to one of the local meat processing plants when we learned how sliced meats and hot dogs were made, and I pretty much didn't attempt to eat them for more than seven years.


When I worked in Toronto, we had a first warm weather day tradition of heading out to a hot dog cart and getting some street meat. I the aromas got me and I partook. I fully admit to liking those offerings a bit better, but I still wasn't convinced I should be eating them. As dumb as it may sound...I think what made me think kinder of vendor vittles were the self-serve pots of condiments -- onions, relish, sauerkraut, pickled peppers and of course the mustard and ketchup. I think only I would derive pleasure from dressing the dog.


So when I saw the recipe for Hot Dog Relish in Anita Stewart's Canada, I was torn. I don't like hot dogs, but I wanted to make the relish. And yes, I know you can use it on foods other than hot dogs. But she wrote about her memories of making relish each autumn, and how it differed to the almost electric green, bottled bits of sweetened cucumbers. Hmm...I fully believe that homemade foods can be much tastier than store bought...why not?


So, fresh from my victory over peach chutney, I decided to head back to My Dear Little Mummy's kitchen to make the relish--like the chutney and the rest of my canning and preserving this year, I made them at my parents as my mum is more experienced at such things than I (well, depending upon what we're making) and, well, she's got the canning gear. I just have to buy the ingredients and some jars and snap lids.


At the recommendation of several Mennonite women at the market, English cucumbers were put aside for salads and I bought several kilos of little pickling cucumbers. It makes perfect sense because well, cucumber relish is sortakinda like chopped pickles.

As we don't have a grinder, all the cutting was done by hand...and of course, I decided to brunoise...everything. I don't know if it would be more tedious to mince four large cucumbers as opposed to the...dozens...of little cucumbers, but chop into teensy-weensy cubes I did...and then the tomatoes, bell peppers, onions, Thai chillis and celery. Unfortunately, all that mincing left me with one, somewhat gloriously deep cut...which the chilli pepper then wormed its way into. Owieowieowieowieowie....

I must admit I was a little concerned after I tasted the pot remnants --it was a bit sweeter than I'd hoped (but not as sweet as the store-bought kind). Yes, I know that it would take some time for the flavours to meld and settle, but my imagination ran unchecked, convincing me I'd made jars and jars of green, acidic ice cream topping.

Am happy to say, that my impatience in opening the relish a few weeks (perhaps two or three) squelched the taste of vanilla and relish from my imagination's palate. Am very happy to say that the sugars mellowed and it was quite good -- nicely balanced between salt and sugar, a bit sour and just spiked with enough heat to make it clear it wasn't the ususal store-bought relish.


When it came time for its premiere serving, I felt obligated to have it with...you guessed it, hot dogs. Who knows. Maybe I'll actually like them.

Well...I did.

No, I'm certain this isn't magic relish that turns everything that's reminiscent of leftover animal parts into a palatable meal--I simply bought a different brand to what I grew up with...sometimes the most obvious solution is never as obvious as it should be. But it's pretty darned good relish.


Hot Dog Relish
adapted from Anita Stewart's Canada
yield: four litres

1.5 kg pickling cucumbers, tipped and tailed, minced
500g green tomatoes, chopped finely
2 green bell peppers, seeded, minced
2 red bell peppers, seeded, minced
2 Thai chillis (or to taste), seeded (optional), minced
3 large yellow cooking onions, minced
60g pickling salt
1L pickling vinegar
1 celery rib
700g sugar
30g flour
1 Tbsp mustard powder
1/2 tsp turmeric

Combine the the cucumbers, tomatoes, bell and hot peppers and onions. Sprinkle with salt and give it a stir before covering with cling and letting stand overnight.

When you're ready to make the relish, drain the liquids from the veg. Tip the cucumbery mix into a pot, add vinegar, celery and 600g sugar. Give the mix a stir and bring to a boil over a medium flame. Reduce the heat and let boil gently for 20 minutes while stirring often.

Combine the remaining sugar with the flour, mustard and turmeric. Sprinkle a spoonful at a time onto the cooked relish, stirring between additions. Return to the hob and cook for a few minutes until bubbling and thickened.

Ladle into sterilised canning jars, seal and store somwhere dark and cool.


cheers!
jasmine