Apple Galette

Dear Devon,

Watch out, Zabar's, here I come! I've gotten into the habit of visiting Zabar's in the 7 o'clock hour, when the croissants are marked down 75 cents. I'll pick up two on my way home, and more often than not, croissants aren't the only thing going in my bag. It's one of those places that's absolutely irresistible to anyone with any sensory appreciation. Don't think I'm completely decadent- this only happens once every couple of weeks.

Somehow I got it into my head to make my own morning pastry without having to make puff pastry. Without any real game plan, I set out to make individual-sized galettes, about four inches in diameter. In an SAT verbal-style analogy, galette is to tarte as a English garden is to a French garden. Galettes are a without formal pattern, a bit wild, but with a relaxed elegance derived from combining various elements in one clearly defined space. That being said, I don't usually set out to make galettes. More often than not, they are failed tartes.

I use Julia Child's recipe for pâte sucrée from Mastering the Art of French Cooking, vol. 1. I am still trying to find the best recipe for this stuff. I want one that combines the sweet taste of butter with a light, flaky crumb. It seems that every baker has a recipe for pâte sucrée. I've probably tried a half dozen in the last year or so. Looking back over my cookbooks, a few recipes have ended up marked in red ink, a reminder not to repeat them. Others have been adequate, but ultimately unsatisfying. Julia Child's pâte sucrée comes closest to what I'm searching for. It has a crust that browns beautifully in the oven and is laden with rich, delicious butter. I'm in the habit of using good quality butter- It makes a big difference. If you want the pasty to taste like plastic, use cheap butter; if you want it to transport you to Paris, use a high fat butter.

The recipe is relatively simple. I focus mainly on the crust. The filling takes minutes to prepare. Thinly slice apples and set aside a bowl of cinnamon sugar. No fuss, but maximum tastiness. Apples are the easiest fruit to use because they don't let their juices ooze out like berries or plums. They also retain their shape nicely, so be mindful when arranging your slices.

Taking into account that this is for breakfast, I settle on four small galettes, maybe 3 inches in diameter. You can easily make one large galette, instead, if you like. The crust turns out beautifully. The heady perfume of baking butter fills my kitchen and lungs. Two sets of greedy fingers can barely contain their excitement when the four golden brown galettes come fresh out of the oven. The apples are wonderfully cooked, quietly spiced and lightly sweetened. The soft apples give way to a rich and buttery crust. With each bite, large flakes of crust drop onto the plate, later gathered by butter-soaked fingers.

This definitely breaks the numbing cycle of cereal and coffee.

Apple Galette

1 cup flour
4 oz butter, cubed
1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp sugar
1/4 cup ice water

3 small apples, sliced
1 tbsp vanilla sugar
1/4 tsp cinnamon

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Line a baking sheet with silpat or wax paper.

Prepare a acidulated ice water bath (mixture of lemon juice and water). Peel and core apples. Thinly slice them, about 1/8 inch. Dunk slices in water bath to prevent discoloration. When you are ready to assemble the galettes, drain apple slices and pat dry.

In a large bowl, combine flour, sugar, and salt. Add chilled, cubed butter. Toss butter lightly with flour. With your hands or a pastry blender, work and rub the flour into the butter until the pieces of butter are about the size of peas. Drizzle 1/4 cup of ice water. Gently mix until a soft dough forms. Add an additional tablespoon of water if the dough is dry. Turn out onto a clean surface and knead gingerly until the dough is smooth and the butter is completely incorporated. Wrap tightly in plastic wrap. Set in the fridge to chill for about an hour or up to one day.

When ready to use, allow dough to rest at room temp for a few minutes. Lightly flour your work surface and rolling pin. Divide the dough into four equal pieces. Set one piece on your floured surface. Return the remaining three pieces to the fridge. Gently roll the dough into a rough circle, 5 to 6 inches in diameter. Carefully arrange slices in a circular pattern in the center of prepared dough, leaving a one inch border. Sprinkle with 1/4 tablespoon cinnamon sugar (recipe follows). Fold excess dough over the arranged apples. Set on prepared baking sheet and chill in fridge while you prepare the remaining galettes. Bake 30 to 35 minutes, until golden brown.

Cinnamon Sugar: in a small bowl, combine cinnamon with sugar. Mix with a fork until combined. I used vanilla sugar. I always have that on hand. Simply place a used vanilla bean in a container of sugar. Easy and yummy. Great in coffee too!

Rainbow Chard and Lima Bean Bruschetta

Dear Devon,

My friend Rebecca is seeking her natural path. Her nutritionist has given her a series of food challenges, which require her to avoid foods like cake, dairy, pizza, eggs, tofu, sugar, gluten, and processed foods. So what's left to eat? Surprisingly, a lot of tasty stuff. I offered to help her create tasty dishes within her dietary restrictions. The trick is to create a meal that is healthy, satisfying, and easily repeated.

Rebecca loves hummus. At one point, the only contents of her fridge were carrots and hummus. While hummus falls within the strict guidelines of her challenge, it is often a highly processed food. When it comes to pureed beans, chickpeas get all the attention. But the world of legumes has more to offer than nutty chickpeas. I have always been a fan of beans. Lentils are my personal favorite, but in recent months I have been experimenting with lima beans. I have yet to be disappointed with my local supermarket's selection of dried beans: They have an entire aisle of beans!


After making lima beans a few times, pureeing them seemed like a logical next step. Lima beans are almost a contradiction in terms. They are starchy, almost paste-like but have a rich, buttery texture. These qualities seem ripe for a hummus-esque side dish. The starchiness gives weight to the dish, while the buttery texture allows for a smooth, even spread. A generous tablespoon of fresh dill and pinch of cumin adds a bit of dark, spicy flavoring, while fresh lemon juice provides a bright contrast to the deep flavors. Ground sesame seeds provided an extra bit of toasted nuttiness.

I found this beautiful rainbow chard at the Union Square green market. I didn't go to the market with the intention of buying chard, but the vibrantly colored stalks and large leaves caught my eye. Rebecca was the person who first brought chard to my attention. She didn't know how to cook it, and neither did I, but it still tasted fantastic. Since then, I've discovered that quickly braising the greens, drizzling them with olive oil, and lightly sprinkling them with salt makes an amazingly satisfying side dish. It seemed only appropriate that I somehow incorporate Swiss chard into Rebecca's diet.

I came up with the idea of turning this into a bruschetta because I didn't want my healthy food to end up looking like "hippie" food, an unflattering stereotype to say the least. I didn't want to hide the rustic, natural quality of the dish- I wanted to show that it could be elegant without being overly-fussy. I think the results are pretty stunning, but I'll let you decide. The French bread is lightly oiled and grilled, then generously spread with a thick layer of lima bean puree and casually topped with dark green braised chard. I tossed some lima beans onto the presentation plate, so we don't forget what's in the spread. It's healthy food, it's vegan but it's not dusty cardboard wafers or hemp milk.

Rainbow Chard Lima Bread Bruschetta

1 pound Swiss Chard

1 cup lima bean, dried
4 cups water
1 bay leaf
1/2 tsp salt

1/2 lime, juice
1 tbsp fresh dill
1/4 tsp cumin
2 tbsp sesame seeds, crushed
1/3 -1/2 cup olive oil
1/4 tsp white pepper
1/4 tsp salt
3 cloves garlic

1 baguette

There are many ways to cook dried beans. I've said before that I don't know which way is the best. But this seems to work well: Pour four cups water and one cup dried lima beans into a large pot. Add one bay leaf. Bring to a boil. Once at a boil, lower to simmer and cover with a tight fitting lid. Simmer until beans are al dente. At the very end, add salt. Drain the beans and set aside to cool. It can take 1 to 2 hours, just watch the pot, burned beans are not a good thing.

Pick over the cooked beans, removing about 20 of the nicest looking beans. Set aside. Place remaining cooled beans into the workbowl of a food processor. Add lemon juice, crushed sesame seeds, cumin, white pepper, and salt and two cloves of garlic. With the machine set at puree, gradually add olive oil through the feed tube. The mixture should be thick and smooth. Taste for saltiness and richness. Add more olive oil, if needed. Remove mixture to a bowl and fold in chopped dill.

In another pan, heat up a splash of olive oil. Remove thick stalk of chard. Cut into two inch slices. Gently fry chopped garlic until the oil is nicely perfumed. raise chard, about 10 minutes.
Slice baguette on a diagonal. Lightly brush both sides with olive oil and place on a hot grill. Do not touch the sliced bread once on the grill. This will ensure your blackened grill marks. Grill evenly on both sides.

Generously spoon lima bean puree onto grilled bread in one even layer. Pile on braised rainbow chard. Top with whole lima beans. Finish with a light drizzle of olive oil and a squeeze of lemon.


PS. I wasn't entirely successful. I forgot Becs can't eat bread- turns out this lima bean spread is great over cucumbers and with carrots too!

Delicious Addictive Potato Bread

Dear Michelle,

I've never had much luck making yeast breads. They've not risen, been rock hard (we gave that one to my dog; she loved it), or have just been so blah, that I haven't bothered trying the past few years. Living in an Italian neighborhood, we get great bread at the gravestone store down the street (his daughter works at a bakery in southern Brooklyn, and he just sells a few loaves a day), and get pizza dough at the pizza place a couple of doors over. We're spoiled. I've always assumed that any bread I could make would be so inferior that it wasn't worth trying.



But we will soon be moving across the country, and though Portland is a foodie's paradise, there's no guarantee that we will be able to get such good bread, so close, and for so cheap (a giant round loaf is $3!). I've also never quite been content to give up entirely on baking my own bread. So when my friend Daniella gave me Jeffrey Alford and Naomi Dugid's Home Baking, I couldn't wait to dive in. Despite the steamy heat we've been having, I decided to start off with Tender Potato Bread, page 152.



I wanted rolls for black-eyed pea patties, and was expecting something like supermarket potato rolls, albeit the best they could be. These are even better. They are crunchy on the outside, with a fluffy crumb, made more substantial and tan-flecked by a little whole wheat flour, that really soaks up whatever sauce you might throw on there without getting soggy, but is not so firm as to send whatever filling you have oozing out. The rolls were great, the loaf was even better, and they were both short-lived. I've made two batches in one week. The slices are great toasted with some butter and jam, the crispy outside giving way to a tender fluffy inside. I was lucky enough to have some vanilla-thyme pear jam, courtesy of my good friend Chloe, and we ate almost the whole jar with that first loaf of bread.


If I ever have some left over, I bet it'd make great french toast. We made grilled cheese sandwiches, and the cheese just melted right into the bread; they were terrific. My next challenge will be to convince myself to try something new, when this is such a sure thing.

Tender Potato Bread

This looks like a lot of work, and it does take quite a bit of time, total, though not much of that is active. However, it is a treat to work with, and kneading dough is so pleasant, the transformation from sticky to elastic so satisfying, that it would be a shame to miss out on the experience. Not to mention that having a really delicious loaf of bread come out of the oven (especially for the first time ever!) is incredibly rewarding.


4 medium to large baking (floury, I used russets) potatoes, peeled and cut into chunks
4 c water
1 T + 1 t salt
2 t active dry yeast
6 1/2-8 1/2 c unbleached all-purpose flour
1 T butter, softened
1 c whole wheat flour

1 9x5 inch bread pan
and either:
1 8x4 inch bread pan OR a 9x13 pan for rolls OR wax or parchment paper for focaccia

Boil potatoes in water with 1 t salt until very tender. Drain, reserving water, and mash potatoes well.



Measure out three cups of potato water (add regular water if necessary). Place water and mashed potatoes in large bowl (or bowl of stand mixer if using). Let cool till just barely warm to your hand (mix before feeling). Mix or stir in yeast and let sit 5m. You will not notice any bubbling, like you might expect; this is ok.

If you are proceeding by hand:

Add 2 c all-purpose flour and stir for 1 minute. Sprinkle on remaining salt, add butter and whole wheat flour, and stir and turn till combined. Ad 2.5-3 more cups all-purpose flour and incorporate. Turn dough out onto a generously floured surface and knead for about 10m until you can feel an increase in elasticity. The first time I made this I kept adding and adding flour but the dough remained sticky; it turned out fine, but kneading it was like trying to knead the blob. There was dough EVERYWHERE, and I was more pulling up and turning with my hands in the dough than kneading. The second time, it behaved like I imagine it's supposed to, and felt to my hands like gum does to teeth, that is, addictive in its texture and substantial and pillow-y in its resistance. You'd do well to have a dough scraper handy in case it sticks, and to cut it later. The dough should be very soft.



Using a stand mixer:

Do the same as above, adding 2 c flour and mixing for 1 m, then adding salt, butter and whole wheat flour and mixing briefly. Then add 4 more cups flour and knead at low speed for 6m. Turn out onto floured surface and knead briefly. Dough will be soft.



And then:

Place dough in a large bowl (as you can see, I might have let it rise too long), oiled if you like. Cover with plastic wrap and let rise about 2 hours or until doubled in volume.

Butter whatever baking pans you are using.

Turn dough out onto well-floured surface and knead gently for a few minutes. It will be moist and sticky, very fluffy. Divide into two pieces, one 1/3 of the total, one 2/3.



To shape the large loaf:

Flatten the larger piece of dough into an approx. 8x12 inch oval, then roll up from a narrow end of the loaf. Pinch the seam closed and put seam side down in the 9x5 inch pan. It should come about 2/3 - 3/4 of the way up the sides of the pan. Cover with plastic wrap and let rise till about doubled, 35-45m.

With the remainder:

Small loaf:

Same as above in smaller loaf pan.

Rolls:

Cut dough into 12 equal pieces. Shape each piece into a ball in your floured hand, and place in baking pan. Cover with plastic wrap and let rise for 35 m or so.

Focaccia (I've not tried this):

Flatten dough into a rectangle about 10x 15 inches with your palms and fingers. Place on large floured parchment or wax paper. Cover and let rise 20m.



And then:

Place baking stone or baking sheets on a rack in the middle of the oven and preheat to 450F. Bake flatbread before loaf, bake rolls and small loaf at the same time.

Focaccia:

Just before baking, dimple the bread all over with your fingertips. Leaving it on the paper, transfer to the baking stone/sheet. Bake until golden, about 10m. Let cool at least 10m before serving.

Loaves and rolls:

Dust with flour or brush with melted butter (I was lazy and used olive oil). Slash loaves crosswise two or three times with a razor blade or sharp knife and immediately place (in the pan) on the baking stones or sheet. Place rolls in oven next to the loaf, also on a baking stone or sheet.

Bake rolls till golden, about 30m. Bake loaves until golden, 40m for the small loaf, 50m for the large. Transfer rolls to a rack when done. Remove loaf/ loaves from pan(s), and put back in oven for 5-10m. The corners should be firm when pinched, and the bottom when tapped should sound hollow. Let cool at least a half hour before slicing. I like it when the slices are about a half-inch thick, but if you will be making sandwiches you might want to go for a third of an inch. If not eaten immediately, rolls and sliced bread keep well in the fridge.

Gazpacho Soup in Ciabatta Bread Bowls

Dear Devon,

Everywhere you turn in France, you will find good baguettes, so it seems almost unnecessary to single out any particular baker. But the baguettes at Eric Kayser's bakery are phenomenal. The crust is crunchy and thick, splintering into large shards with every bite. The inside is soft, pillowy and wonderfully salted. How can a loaf of bread embody heaven in crust and crumb? A fourth generation Parisian baker, Eric Kayser has absolutely, resolutely perfected the baguette...and all of Paris seems to know.

Exhausted from a morning fighting crowds at the Louvre, we decided to reinvigorate our drained spirits with a light snack at Eric Kayser. Unbeknownst to us, we stumbled across one of the most popular lunchtime spots in central Paris. French people are obviously crazy about le dejeuner. Everything stops in celebration of the midday repast. It's funny to note that even the bakery in Dijon closed. Picture this: A throng of elegantly coiffed men and women in business suits scrambling over one another in their quest for a baguette sandwich. The scene was like a desperate game of musical chairs, only with stuffed baguettes. Tuna salad, grilled chicken, ham and cheese, or roasted vegetable. When the music stops, the loser is left without a sandwich, and must walk dejected down the street to the competing bakery. If words fail to capture the essence of this lunchtime struggle, the Kandinsky painting below, which hangs in the Musée National d'Art Moderne at the Centre Pompidou, may help convey the wildness of the scene. Lesson learned: Don't get between a Frenchman and his lunch.

I had been given a copy of Eric Kayser's Sweet and Savory Tarts as a birthday present a few years back. Though the book was much appreciated, I had some difficulty relating to the recipes. Nonetheless, my curiosity was peaked. I had to try some of his delectable creations before leaving France. The experience has left me with nothing but admiration. I had to pack his 2007 release Autour Des Pains into my suitcase on the way back to New York.

I've had a few weeks to study Autour Des Pains. I found the text and images appealing and inventive. Kayser takes bread beyond a platform for cheese and salted meats, transforming this staple into a versatile superstar, comfortable on a coarse wooden table or effortlessly tucked into decadent dessert of roasted persimmons. One of his ideas that struck me was to use hollowed out loaves of bread as soup bowls. I love the idea of drinking soup, and then eating the bowl. It adds a bit of whimsy to your lunch and simplifies the clean up. I had to give it a try. In France the multitude of shapes and sizes of bread makes this soup bowl idea a bit easier to pull off. After much searching, I settled on a medium sized ciabatta. My biggest concern was the integrity of the crust. How long before the soup soaks through the thin walls of the bread bowl? It turns out toasted bread is impermeable to soup, but not to metal spoons.

Kayser gives a recipe for gazpacho. It was definitely hot out, so gazpacho seemed appropriate. I used a recipe that I perfected last summer. My friends have a penchant for gazpacho. After much encouragement, I began to experiment with the soup. I had not been a huge fan of gazpacho, mainly because it tasted too raw and a bit sour. I found that grilling the tomatoes softened many of those harsher flavors. While it's not a true gazpacho and doesn't spare you the hassle of turning on the stove, I think it's a good compromise.

Gazpacho Soup in Ciabatta Bread Bowls
inspired by Kayser, Eric Autour Des Pains Eric Kayser p. 52

2 vine ripe tomatoes
3 plum tomatoes
1/2 yellow onion
1 orange pepper
1 bunch parsley
1/2 cucumber
1/4 cup pecans, toasted
1/4 - 1/2 cup water
1/3 - 1/2 cup olive oil
1/4 tsp salt
1 tbsp ketchup
2 cloves garlic

1 Ciabatta Loaf

Halve the plum tomatoes lengthwise. Grill cut side down for about 10 minutes, until nice dark grill marks appear. Set aside to cool.

Roughly chop remaining tomatoes, yellow onion, orange pepper, and cucumber. Place all chopped veggies in the food processor or a blender along with garlic, parsley, toasted pecans, ketchup and salt. Add the cooled grilled tomatoes. With the machine running, pour in olive oil in a steady gentle stream. The amount of water and olive oil depends on the juiciness of your tomatoes. For richer soup, add more olive oil. Process or blend until smooth.

Set a mesh sieve over a large bowl. Working in batches, gently push the pureed liquid through the sieve. You want to strain about 2/3 of the soup. Straining the soup will eliminate a lot of the pulp and seeds while creating an overall soup with a smoother consistency. Whisk in the remaining 1/3 of the soup (unstrained). Combining the two mixtures creates a nice texture and heartiness to the soup. Place in the fridge to cool for about an hour.

Cut off both ends of the ciabatta loaf, so that you have two pieces, each about 4 inches long. The heal of the bread will be the bottom of your soup bowl. Hollow out the bread leaving a 1/4 inch of bread around the crust. Be careful not to pierce the crust. Sprinkle with a bit of olive oil and place on a baking sheet. Bake in the oven at 400 degrees for about 15 minutes until the bread is toasty and golden. Set aside and cool.

To prepare, cut two thin slice of bread. Rest the bread bowls on the sliced bread. The flat slices help to stabilize the pointed ends of the ciabatta. Pour the chilled soup into the cooled bread bowls. Serve with basil or a bit of parmesan cheese.

Monsieur and Madame Croque

Dear Devon,

Rick Steves, on a recent episode, comfortably biked through the Cote D'Or vineyards, basket filled with snails and a bottle of wine. He made it look so easy. Dijon advertises itself as a bike friendly town. The central tourist office conveniently distributes maps of bike paths that should lead easily and safely from tasting room to tasting room, and even rents bikes for full and half days. As the sky was clear for the first time in days, I decided it would be fun to fill my lungs with country air and get some sun...


WHAT WAS I THINKING? I don't bike from the Upper West Side to Staten Island on a whim. In fact, I hadn't been on a bike, mobile or stationary, in more than 10 years. Suddenly, I was in the middle of nowhere, caught up in a twenty mile bike ride. Taxis? Not on this stretch of vineyard. Buses? I saw plenty of stops and shelters, but not a single bus. Bike lanes? Stay to the right of the cars on the highway. Huffing and puffing under a cloudless sky, I imagined composing an urgent email to Rick Steves:

Dear Mr. Steves,

When suggesting bike rides through the Cote D'Or to your foolhardy readers, don't forget the two miles of white-knuckle riding in narrow one-way streets on the way out of Dijon, or the imperceptible bike lanes and five-way intersections, and most importantly, please stress the physical exertion required to ride several miles, especially for those who do not engage in regular exercise.

Your faithful reader,
Michelle

We rolled into Gevrey-Chambertin, a good 8 miles outside of Dijon, at about 1:15. If you're not familiar, 1:15 can mean to a Frenchman that he's missed lunch. I shuffled stiffly into a busy cafe, filled with sun burnt locals, and found a table by the window. The waitress, who turned out to be our chef, as well, announced loudly that she was out of bread, and asked us what we thought of croque monsieur and green salad with tomatoes. We nodded our approval, and she disappeared into a loud kitchen. During her absence, we tried to figure out what had just happened. Had we inadvertently ordered, in our exhaustion, and our lousy french? When she appeared with two green salads and two croque monsieurs made with square slices of white bread, we asked her where the bread came from. With a surprised look on her face, she answered "This isn't bread. This stuff is ONLY used for croque monsieur. It's too heavy- we couldn't just eat this every day."

The Croque Monsieur and his feminine counterpart, Croque Madame (served with an egg on top), is the grilled cheese sandwich of France. Every kid knows how to make it. It's probably the default dinner for many newly graduated 20-somethings. At its most basic, it consists of cheese, ham, mustard, and sliced bread. Larousse Gastronomique writes: "the first croque monsieur was served in 1910 in a Parisian cafe on the Boulevard des Capucines" (p. 375). I've always eaten croque monsieur topped with a cheesy bechemal sauce. To me, the sauce always seemed a bit fussy for a simple sandwich. I was pleased to see that in the French version, the sandwich is topped with lightly broiled shredded cheese. The edges are blackened, almost burnt, and the inside was warm and gooey with melted cheese and salty ham. Our audible crunching was a good advertisement for the "croque." (Croquer is french for to crunch.)

Back in New York, while telling a friend about our French adventures, I tried to recreate the croque monsieur. Emmental is the cheese that is typically used in this sandwich. When the thin strands of burned cheese stick to the bread, it creates an amazing savory flavor and satisfying crunch. The melted Emmental contrasts nicely with the sweetness of the sliced ham. It is gooey and warm, stretching into long strands with each bite. The monsier and madame that resulted from my experiments were delicious. The sandwiches were a real treat and a great reminder of that marvelous day in the vineyards, without the muscle fatigue.

Don't think my biking adventure was a complete waste. Once I had eaten dinner, relaxed, and was sitting in my bed, I admit that I felt fulfilled.


Croque Monsieur and Croque Madame
serves 2

4 slices white bread (I used Italian rustic bread)
2 tbsp butter
4 thin slices of ham
mustard
2 slices Emmental cheese
1/2 cup Emmental cheese, shredded
1 egg

Preheat oven to 450 degrees. Line a baking sheet with foil.

Heat a frying pan on a medium flame. Butter four slices of bread on one side. Butter side facing outwards, top each slice with 2 slices of ham, 1 slice of cheese, and a generous layer of mustard. Finish with the second slice of bread, butter side out. Place on the frying pan at medium heat. Cook on both sides until nicely golden brown. Remove to reserved baking sheet. Top with shredded cheese. Repeat with second sandwich.

Croque Madame: follow the directions above. Fry an egg, sunny side up. Place the fried egg on top of the shredded cheese.

Bake both sandwiches in the oven at 500 degrees until cheese is slightly burned and bread is nicely toasted. Serve with a fresh green salad.

Pork Belly Ssam

Dear Michelle,

Remember when I told you about Jeff getting me the Momofuku cookbook? Well, it's quickly become one of my go-to cookbooks when I'm looking for something exciting to make; though I was already cooking some Asian food before I had the cookbook, this opened up so many possibilities for me. Chang is a gifted man, both in cooking and in translating the experience and technique for the home chef. You can feel his love of food and experimentation, and his commitment to making his food the best it can be of what it is when you read the book. The food is not about mastering the technical difficulty, like it seems to be with some chefs, but is rather all about the end product.

We went to the noodle bar recently, and found the menu to be cheaper, the portions larger than at ssam bar, and the atmosphere less hip (fewer people, though we were there early, and quieter music), which is nice when what you really want to do is focus on the food. We had been given a gift certificate for a wedding present; our friends know us well. The food was phenomenal, the experience memorable.

We started with the pork buns, Jeff let me get the foie gras with celery root puree and pineapple compote (this was huge, at least 5x2 inches- I'd have been happy with that for an entree), then came bok choy in pork broth, and beef brisket and pork ramen for mains, all followed by sour cherry and olive oil twist soft serve. It was an epic dinner, perfectly prepared, and afterwards we stumbled out into still-bright Manhattan clutching our bellies and wishing we'd ordered less, but instead come back a second time (there was money still left over!). When food is that good, it's hard to stop.


The first thing we made from Chang's cookbook was pork belly ssam, which won me over immediately. You know that secret weapon dinner we who cook all have? The one you make when someone new is coming over, which seems elaborate and fancy but is really easy to put together and always good? This is all that, and can be mostly made ahead of time. It will sound like a lot; but is not much more work than your average dinner of meat with sauce, a starch and a vegetable.

We've made the ssam several times by now, the most recent of which when our friend Kate was in town this April. It was just getting really warm out, and we had the windows open to the breeze outside, a vase of large droopy tulips on the table, and way too much food for three people. A few photos of that spring evening are here.



The meal was, as it always is, amazing. The crispy on the outside and tender on the inside meat is run through with veins of fat, the good melty kind, not the chewy greasy kind. This rich piece of carnivore's delight nestles into miso-butter rice, tart and flavorful, and is covered with one or both of two sauces, all contained in a crispy piece of lettuce that cuts the richness a little.



Ginger scallion sauce is sharp with its namesakes, but with an unexpected depth of flavor. Make double the amount; you'll use it the next day, and the next. The other sauce is a mayonnaise based sauce, creamy and tart, crunchy with pickles and mustard seeds (not pictured, I omitted it for this dinner as I was the only one who liked mayonnaise). It's not quite as versatile as ginger-scallion sauce, but it's worth making. The first time I made this, for about eight people, all of it was gone by the end.


Chang specifies skin-off pork belly in his recipe, but I like to leave the skin on; it puffs up into crunchy, crispy deliciousness. It surprised me, but everyone who has been there when I've made this has tried the skin, and most came back for more. It's like a built-in hors d'oeuvre.



Pork Belly Ssam

All recipes from Momofuku by David Chang and Peter Meehan. Words are paraphrased, changes have been noted.

pork belly
several heads of Bibb lettuce, washed and separated
miso-butter rice
ginger scallion sauce
mustard seed sauce
sriracha sauce

Put everything inside lettuce and wrap up. Repeat until full.



Pork Belly

3-lb slab skinless (unless you want the cracklin's, and you do) pork belly
1/3 c kosher salt
1/3 c sugar

1. Mix salt and sugar in a small bowl, then rub all over meat, discarding extra. Put meat in a snugly-fitted oven-safe dish. Cover with plastic wrap and put into fridge at least 6 hours, up to 24. (If you are at the butcher's, thinking, "what will I make for dinner tonight?", and you find yourself inspired to make this (do it!), but despair of not having 6 hours for this step, just give it as long as you can. I'm sure it makes a difference and all that, but I say it's better to have pork belly without this step than not at all if that's what it comes down to)

2. Heat oven to 450F

3. Discard any liquid, put belly in oven, and cook for 1 hour, basting with rendered fat halfway, until it is golden-brown.

4. Reduce temperature to 250, and cook for about an additional 30m. The meat should be a little firm, not quite jiggly. Remove pan from oven, decant fat and meat juices, let separate, and refrigerate separately (if you like; fat is well, fat, and can be used to saute or whatever, and juices, which will gel, can be stirred into things to add some richness). Allow to cool a little.

5. When cool enough to handle, wrap belly in foil and refrigerate until chilled and firm. (Can be dispensed with if you have hungry people waiting, which I always have had, but it slices more cleanly if cold). If you'd left the skin on, you can crack into that bubble with a knife now (so satisfying, like breaking into a creme brulee), and munch on the pieces. If some of it is not quite crisp, pull it/cut it off of the meat and put it back into the oven for a few minutes.

6. Light grill/ heat grill pan or skillet. Cut belly into 1/2 inch slices, and grill till browned and crispy on one side (I've always missed that part and done both sides, but I think this way would be better)



Miso-Butter Rice

2 c sushi rice
miso butter (linked below)
sushi vinegar (rice wine vinegar mixed with salt and sugar)

Make 2 c sushi rice according to directions. Stir in miso butter to taste (we'd probably use a good 4-6 T), and sushi vinegar to taste.


Ginger Scallion Sauce

1 1/2 c thinly sliced scallion (Chang calls for 2 1/2 c scallion, but I like more liquid in my sauce)
1/2 c finely minced ginger
1/4 c grapeseed, or other neutral oil
1T sesame oil (Chang does not call for this, but I think it's a nice touch)
1 1/2 t light soy sauce (sometimes I increase this, to taste)
2 T sushi vinegar (Chang uses 3/4 t sherry vinegar)
3/4 t kosher salt

Combine all in a bowl. Let sit 20 minutes if you have time. Use leftovers on noodles; this is what it is for, but we use it on rice, noodles, ssam, to dip dumplings into, it's good on pretty much anything. I don't even measure any more but eye-ball all ingredients and it is ALWAYS good. This is not for the pork belly, per se, but Jeff does not like mayonnaise (it's a burden, but I put up with it because I love him), so he asked me to try this sauce instead and he was so right.


Mustard Seed Sauce

6T pickled mustard seed (see next recipe. Can also use just regular mustard seeds, if you are too lazy to pickle them. I was the first time.)
3T Dijon mustard
1T Chinese hot mustard (I used more Dijon, as I didn't think to get this, though I'm sure it makes it better)
3T mayonnaise
3 T thinly sliced scallion
3 T diced cucumber
salt and pepper

Combine all in bowl, use within a couple of days, store refrigerated. Very tasty.


Pickled Mustard Seeds

1 c yellow mustard seeds
1 1/2 c water
1 1/2 c rice wine vinegar
1/2 c sugar
1 T kosher salt