Tuesday, January 12, 2010

Ellu Sadam / Sesame Rice Recipe

I love sesame seeds. Whenever a recipe calls for 1 tsp of it, I dunk in 1 tbsp. The same goes for coriander powder but that's a totally different topic that should be discussed in a different context. For now, let's stick to sesame seeds rice.

I am a huge sucker for variety rice. I am very South Indian like that I guess. But this is one recipe I had never heard of until I was gifted Chandra Padmanabhan's 'Southern Spice'.

In ingenious and I am still wondering why it took me this long to finally get to it.

Its great to pack for a trip and tastes best at room temperature with some raita. Now, how many South Indian Variety Rice recipes can you say this for?

Ellu Sadam / Sesame Rice Recipe
Source: Southern Spice by Chandra Padmanabhan

What I Used:

1 cup cooked rice

For the Spice Powder:

1/2 cup white sesame seeds / til / ellu
2 tbsp grated coconut
4 dry red chillies
1 tsp oil

For Tempering:

2 tbsp gingelly oil / nallennai
1 tsp mustard seeds
3 tbsp shelled peanuts
1/2 tsp cumin seeds / jeera
2 dry red chillies, halved
1 tsp urad dal / ulutham paruppu
1 tsp channa dal / kadala paruppu
A few curry leaves

How I Made It:

1. Dry roast the sesame seeds and grated coconut separately in a pan until nicely browned. Add oil for spice powder and lightly fry the red chillies, taking care not to burn them. Cool, grind to a fine powder and set aside.

2. Heat oil for tempering and add the roasted peanuts. When almost fried and brown, add the rest of the ingredients. When the mustard seeds pop and the dals turn golden, remove from heat.

3. Stir in the rice and the spice powder. Serve at room temperature with raita.

This goes to Priya's Cooking With Sesame Seeds Event.

Monday, January 11, 2010

Anadama Bread: Baking Through The Bread Baker's Apprentice

I love baking. I love bread. There is nothing quite like kneading together the perfect dough, caring for it during the fermentations, anticipating its flavour as the house fills with the smell of baking bread, then finally cutting into the finished loaf and enjoying a still warm slice of perfection. Perhaps it's because Vegan Mom and I just watched Julie and Julia, but I have decided to bake through Peter Reinhart's The Bread Baker's Apprentice (not even an original idea, as it turns out). I have made several breads from this book, and have made no secret of the fact that I totally love it, so I am going to make them all. I will veganize when necessary, but I have no plans to alter the recipes in any other way. I will do a quick post about each bread for anyone interested.

The first bread is Anadama Bread: a loaf made of cornmeal (polenta), flour, and molasses of New England origin. The bread takes 2 days to make, with the first 24 hours taken up soaking the polenta in water to help release the natural sugars during baking. Reinhart made a note that his recipe testers preferred a light molasses so the flavour did not overpower the final loaf. I just used the molasses I had on hand, the same stuff I use for gingerbread, and did not notice any adverse flavour. The end result was amazing--a soft and light loaf with a bit of texture from the polenta. I found 40 mins of baking to be just right. We enjoyed a slice soon after baking with a bit of margarine, and then I made some classic PB and J sandwiches for lunch the next day.

Saveur's French Onion Soup

Making French onion soup is really much more about the equipment than cooking skills, and by equipment I mean broiler-proof bowls and a broiler with enough clearance to handle those bowls. I knew this going into it, but also knew that I really wanted French onion soup. It’s one of those dishes you crave on cold winter nights. It’s comforting, hearty to the point of decadence, and since the short ribs filled my meat quota for the month, its almost-vegetarian quality really fit the bill for everything I wanted in a post-Christmas but pre-New Year’s meal—that week where life lets up and minor to major indulgences become justifiable.

Saveur's version:
Photo: Andre Baranowski

our version:
Major letdown, no?

The funny thing is that when I made this recipe, I was in Los Angeles where winter means an average high of 68 and low of 47 and where fires are built mostly for the fun of it and are often put out prematurely following comments like, "Uhm, it's really hot in here." And now as I write this, I’m at home in Pittsburgh where there are no highs and lows as far as I can tell—everything is just super cold, all the time.
On to the recipe, which calls for braising the onions instead of cooking them on the stovetop, which I would recommend simply for the hour and half that your house will smell of butter, onions, wine and sherry. It’s such a particular smell—mildly vinegary but mostly rich and brasserie-like. And this is where I messed up—though you really wouldn’t have known it by the amazing aroma.

I halved the recipe, but failed to half the size of the braising dish, so the melted butter, sherry, and white wine didn’t fully cover the onions. Below are the onions after the first 45 minutes, uncovered—just a little burnt—and then after another hour, covered with foil. I was convinced the recipe was ruined, but after Matt and I sampled one of the burnt onions and it only tasted vaguely burnt, we pushed onward.
Up next was the bouquet garni, which prompted the Google search: what is a bouquet garni? Speaking of Google searches, what’s going on with Google search auto-fill? It’s getting kind of weird.
Anyway, as it turns out, a bouquet garni is a bunch of herbs wrapped in cheesecloth or sometimes leek leaves that is used to flavor a stew or soup. Here is mine sans cheesecloth or leek, neither of which I had on hand. I like to call this the Bon Appetempt loose bouquet garni (patent pending).
To get around the broiler and broiler-proof bowl problem, I decided to mound the gruyere and parmesan on top of the bread and put those in the broiler and then place them on top of the soup.

The results were solidly mediocre.
Unfortunately, the burnt onions flavored the broth much more than my makeshift garni had. Each bite tasted slightly of char. And even more sadly, I have no solutions for the person with a shallow broiler. I mean, would it work if I moved my oven rack up to the highest slot and cooked the bowls like that?

Of course, I really would make it all over again just for the onion and butter aroma to take over our apartment.

RECIPE from Saveur and based on one in Bistro Cooking by Patricia Wells (Workman, 1989):
1 cup white wine
1⁄2 cup plus 3 tbsp. sherry
10 tbsp. butter
1 tsp. sugar
3 large yellow onions, thinly sliced
Kosher salt and black pepper, to taste
6 sprigs flat-leaf parsley
6 sprigs thyme
2 fresh bay leaves
2 qts. Beef Stock
12  1⁄2"-thick slices baguette
2 cloves garlic, smashed
6 cups grated gruyère cheese
2 cups finely grated parmigiano-reggiano

1. Heat oven to 425°. Combine wine, 1⁄2 cup of the sherry, 8 tbsp. of the butter, sugar, onions, and salt and pepper in a 9" × 13" casserole dish and braise, uncovered, stirring occasionally, until the onions just begin to brown, 40–45 minutes. Remove casserole from oven, cover with foil, and continue braising in oven, stirring occasionally, until caramelized, about 1 hour more. Keep the onions warm.

2. Meanwhile, tie parsley, thyme, and bay leaves together with kitchen twine to make a bouquet garni. Put bouquet garni and stock into a pot and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to medium-low and simmer, partially covered, for 30 minutes. Remove and discard bouquet garni. Stir in remaining sherry and cook for 5 minutes more.

3. While the broth simmers, spread the baguette slices with the remaining butter. Toast in a skillet over medium heat, turning once, until golden, 5–7 minutes. Rub the slices generously with garlic and set aside. Discard any remaining garlic.

4. Heat broiler with rack 6" from element. Arrange 6 heatproof bowls on a foil-lined sheet tray, divide onions and broth between bowls, and stir together. Place 2 baguette slices in each bowl; top each with about 1 cup gruyère and about 1⁄3 cup parmigiano. Broil until cheeses are browned and bubbly, 3–5 minutes. Serve immediately.