March 23, 2014

Breakfast at Home: Savoury Breakfast Polenta


This post barely qualifies as a recipe - it's more of a serving suggestion. Remember the Orange Breakfast Polenta from last August? I've been wanting to do a savoury version, and sausage with egg seemed the perfect solution.

At it's simplest, the recipe is this: Make up your favourite soft polenta recipe, top with crumbled sausage and a poached (or fried, basted, or steamed) egg - or two, ideally cooked soft or medium-soft. Season according to preference - hot sauce, fresh herbs, black pepper, really, there's a lot of options. You could even dust a little parmesan over the top, although it's not strictly speaking necessary. I should note that it's easier to make if you are starting with loose sausage meat, rather than the kind pressed into casings. If you can only get the kind in casings, slit them open to remove the meat before you get started - there's a bit too much going on at once to muck about trying to squeeze sausages out of their skins while preparing the polenta and/or eggs.

For a vegetarian or vegan version, you would need a veggie ground sausage, of course, or perhaps avoid the processed option with a sauteed mixture of seasoned mushrooms, walnuts and brown lentils (and maybe a bit of green onion), plus whatever tweaks you prefer to remove the dairy from the polenta (remove entirely, or replace with non-sweet almond milk or soy milk, or even pureed silken tofu). Egg or not, depending on which way you roll.

For the traditional version, break open your soft-cooked eggs so that the yolk escapes into the rest of the dish. Each bite brings you a mouthful of hot, creamy polenta, savoury sausage, and a bit of soft egg yolk. Your bowl will be empty, and your tummy full, in no time.

March 16, 2014

Hot, Sweet, & Sour Eggplant


This is fantastic hot or room-temperature, and just as good the next day. I use bulbous dark purple eggplants, as those are the ones available to me, but you could also use the longer, light purple Chinese varieties.

The combination of vinegar, soy sauce, honey, and sambal oelek give it that classic hot, sour, salty, sweet harmony of flavours that make you want to eat the whole pan at once. The texture of the eggplant becomes meltingly soft, just firm enough to maintain its shape, and is a nice counterpoint to a classic stir fry. If you like, thinly slice some garlic and add it along with the chiles.

Hot, Sweet, & Sour Eggplant

Serves 2 - 3

225 grams eggplant
1 1/2 tablespoons soy sauce
1 tablespoon red wine vinegar or black vinegar
1 tablespoons honey or agave syrup
1 tablespoon sambal oelek (or other hot chile paste)
1/2 teaspoon powdered ginger or 1 tablespoon finely minced peeled, fresh ginger
1 - 2 long red chiles, seeded
1 teaspoon cornstarch
1 tablespoon coarse salt
5 tablespoons peanut oil, divided

Slice the eggplant lengthwise into quarters, and then slice the quarters crosswise to make triangular-ish slices that are about 1/2 centimetre wide. Sprinkle the eggplant slices with coarse salt, and set in a colander over a plate for at least half an hour. Rinse the salt off thoroughly, and drain well. Pat dry to remove any remaining water from the surface of the pieces.

Finely slice the chiles, into either rings or strips, as you prefer.

Combine the soy sauce, vinegar, honey, sambal oelek, cornstarch, and ginger in a small bowl, and stir until smooth (or at least as smooth as anything containing sambal oelek is going to be).

Working in several batches over high heat, heat the peanut oil in a skillet. Lower the heat to medium high and, working in batches, stir fry the eggplant pieces for a few minutes, until they are golden in spots but not cooked through. Remove eggplant pieces to a waiting plate as they are done, and repeat until all of the eggplant is done, and the skillet is empty. Be sure to reserve a tablespoon of oil for the sauce.

Lower the temperature to medium, and add the final tablespoon of peanut oil to the skillet. Stir the soy sauce mixture again, and add to skillet. The mixture should bubble up immediately, but if it instantly caramelizes into a solid mass, your heat is too high. In that case, add a little hot water (a couple of tablespoons - best to have it standing by, really, just in case) and stir until smooth, before proceeding. Otherwise, immediately add the sliced chiles (and garlic, if using) and quickly stir until they are coated, and then add the eggplant pieces back to the pan. Lower the heat and stir and cook until the eggplant pieces are tender, and coated with a thick, sticky glaze. Serve hot or at room temperature.

Sometimes when I make this it turns out lighter, sometimes darker, so no worries if it doesn't look exactly like this. More often, I would say it turns out a touch darker, because I often have my pan a little hotter than necessary.

March 09, 2014

Vietnamese-inspired Lemongrass Pork Meatballs


What do you do when you have a surplus of lemongrass? Well, you could make meatballs, of course.

Living in this small city in Germany, access to Asian cuisines is rather limited, and often quite different from my previous experience of those cuisines in Vancouver. There are some tasty options, but there are also some notable absences, and much less variety than I've been accustomed to. I've taken on the challenge of making some of the things that I miss from Vancouver, and my list grows bigger every day.

That being said, I don't believe this to be any kind of authentic Vietnamese dish; rather, it is me playing with the flavours of Vietnamese cuisine and having fun while I do it. If you are looking for the springy sort of meatballs that one gets in Phó, you'll need to look elsewhere, as these are more in the Italian meatball school of texture (if not flavour). But if you want a tasty Vietnamese-inspired meatball treat - lordy, check these out! Bursting with flavour.

As I slowly build up my pantry, each new ingredient opens another door to new items to cook. My latest ingredient is fish sauce - essential for Vietnamese and Thai cooking. Because my fridge is a tiny German bar-sized fridge, shelf space for bottles is at an absolute premium, so I looked for the smallest bottle of fish sauce that I could find. That turned out to be a brand that also has red chiles in it. At first I balked - I tend to stick to the more neutral versions of basic ingredients, especially for cuisines outside my own - but as I turned it over in my head, I realized that I never use fish sauce without also adding chiles, so it was probably going to be okay. And it was. There's something about the chiles that actually takes the edge of the odour of the fish sauce, and that's kind of a relief, actually. It means that I get that all-important flavour that is so necessary in a lot of the dishes, without flinching my way through the adding of it.

Vietnamese-inspired Lemongrass Pork Meatballs

Makes 20 meatballs

500 grams finely ground lean pork
2 stalks lemongrass (preferably young)
1 tablespoon finely grated ginger
2 large cloves garlic, crushed
1 tablespoon fish sauce (with chiles)
1 long red chile pepper, seeded and finely minced
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
½ teaspoon ground white pepper
¼ cup minced cilantro
4-5 basil leaves (preferably Thai or Vietnamese basil), minced
¼ cup panko-style flakey breadcrumbs

Into a large mixing bowl, grate the tender, white part of the lemongrass using a microphone grater. Add the rest of the ingredients (except the pork) and mix well with a fork. If the mixture seems quite dry (it should look crumbly but a bit moist), add up to another tablespoon of the fish sauce. I use fish sauce with chiles, because there's simply no application that I have for fish sauce that doesn't call for chiles, and I find the added chile flavour takes some of the edge of fish sauce, while still allowing it to contribute its essential fish sauce qualities to the dish.

Crumble or tear the pork into little bits, allowing the bits to fall onto the seasoning mixture. When all the pork is added to the bowl, use a fork, or your impeccably clean hands, to gently work the seasoning mixture through the pork until it is evenly distributed, but try not to overwork the mixture - you're not kneading bread here, just trying to combine the ingredients.

Preheat your oven to 400 F. Use about a teaspoon of peanut oil to grease the bottom of a 7x11" glass baking dish or a rimmed baking sheet. Divide the meat mixture into twenty golf ball sized meatballs (a 1-tablespoon disher is what I use; I scoop all of the meatballs out, and then go quickly back over them to make sure they have a nice, round shape all the way around, since the disher tends to make them a bit flat on the bottom). Bake uncovered for 25 - 30 minutes. Serve hot, or allow to cool and freeze on a plate until firm before bagging them up for a future meal.

I've served these over a plain version of Coconut Ginger Noodles, with a marinated vegetable salad - essentially, fresh shredded carrots, julienned cucumber, minced chiles, green onion, cilantro, basil, with a (chile) fish-sauce vinaigrette (if I'd had daikon on hand, or even any other radish, I'd have thrown that in, too). Given the added chile in the fish sauce, it was quite spicy, but added a wonderfully fresh crunch to contrast against the soft noodles and luxurious textured meatballs.

Since there were only two of us for dinner, we restrained ourselves at consuming half the batch and the rest were stashed in the freezer for a future dinner - very likely a banh mi choose-your-own-adventure meal within the next week or so. I can hardly wait.