Gimme some tongue, baby!

November 17, 2007 – 1:11 am

open

I’ve stayed up late writing the last few nights, and when hunger hits in the middle of the night in a small town like Corvallis, it can be difficult to find something decent to eat. But there is La Conga (formerly known as Rigoberto’s), and I’m absolutely hooked on their burrito con lengua. Yes, it’s a burrito with beef tongue.

burrito con lengua - tongue burrito

Beef tongue is a common ingredient in real Mexican tacos and burritos. It’s a very tender meat, and the flavor is deep, robust and hearty. If you’ve never tried it, I advise you to get some tongue. If you’d like to try cooking it, the procedure is pretty simple. Put a tongue in a pot with chopped onions and garlic, cover it with water, add salt, and simmer for a few hours until tender. Next, remove the skin from the tongue, chop finely (or roughly if you want to enjoy the texture a bit more), and roll the meat into a burrito or taco with refried beans and your favorite fixings.

If you want to jazz it up a bit, you can add a cinnamon stick or other spices to the simmering pot. Cumin. Dried chiles. Peppercorns. And once the tongue is cooked, skinned and chopped, you could even dare to saute it in oil with chiles and spices to give it a little caramelization and zing. I haven’t found a good butcher in this town yet (I’ve actually been too busy cooking to do much exploring), but I’m growing so fond of the tongue burrito at La Conga that I’m considering purchasing a tongue and playing around with it a little.

And then I’ll probably cook it.


Sweet, Naturally

November 2, 2007 – 4:17 am

coffee and thesaurus

Coffee me, please. I’m probably more stimulated by the flavor, body and aroma of coffee than by the caffeine. It’s a grounding beverage, a conduit of profound elemental energies. You can not have coffee without earth, fire, water or mountain air, after all. It is a drink of pondering, a mystical elixir that quickens the synapses. If it had a frequency, coffee would be deep bass. It’s a drink that enables you to give forth a great, booming, “Hell, YES!” from the very bottom of your being.

And, dammit, I’m all out of sugar.

So it’s pure maple syrup in the coffee this morning. As you might imagine, this is better than sugar because I’m also getting earthy stimulation from yon venerable Maple, whose roots sip from deep within untouched places.

After one cup, I got to thinking of all the exquisite ways to serve and enjoy coffee. The Dutch, I’m told, put butter in their coffee. I’ve tried this, and it’s actually pretty nice. Coffee brewed with green cardamom or cinnamon (or both). I acquired the charming habit of eating raw onions in Croatia (it’s really quite good for your blood), and I’ve actually enjoyed coffee and sliced onions together for breakfast. Just muddy Turkish coffee and onions with a little sea salt. Try it and see if your day doesn’t bang to a start. I know someone who mixes tomato juice into his java. I’m not so curious about how that ends up tasting.


Crab+Bacon+Walnut=Ravioli

October 31, 2007 – 3:27 am

crab-ravioli.jpg

First, I got to work on the filling. I had Dungeness crab and bacon, and decided to bind them with potatoes and walnuts. Of course, merely mashing up two potatoes wasn’t enough for me. No, I actually made a micro-batch of fresh shrimp stock from shells, carrot, onion, celery, parsley, apple cider vinegar and white wine. I simmered the peeled, diced potatoes for 45 minutes so they could take up the subtle sweetness of the shrimp and vegetables, then gave them a rough mash in a mixing bowl. I roasted a few handfuls of walnuts in herb-infused olive oil, chopped them finely and added them to the potatoes. Into this I gave the crab meat and bacon (minced and rendered), then a half cup of Fontina cheese. This was all stirred to a stiff, even consistency and seasoned with just a few pinches of sea salt. I went very easy with the salt, as I wanted the soft flavors of the shrimp stock, potato and walnut to take center stage. Besides, I still have flavor coming from the sauce I’ll need to make. The sauce I’m thinking of for these ravioli has a lot of high-end zing to it, so keeping the ravioli on the down-low, subtle side of the spectrum seems wise.

Well, I kneaded flour and eggs, rolled the dough into sheets, scooped balls of filling thereupon, covered the assembly with another sheet of dough, then sealed and cut. Ravioli aren’t such a big deal, they’re just time-consuming and involved. Making them is the kind of task I like to settle into and enjoy with some wine and good company if I’m at home. But if you’re going to make 20, you may as well make 200. The assembly is nothing once you get your rhythm. It’s the prep that’s a pain.


Mussels Buzara

October 12, 2007 – 6:17 am
Dagnje na Buzaru

Samoborska Medovina

September 18, 2007 – 5:57 pm

samoborskamedovina.jpg

It’s honey wine from Samobor.


Pršut: Dalmatian Cured Ham

August 17, 2007 – 6:14 am

dalmatinski pršut

Of all the exquisite artisan food produced in Dalmatia, there is none as widely loved that resonates in the hearts and souls of the people like pršut (PURR-shoot). If you’re at all familiar with the prosciutto of Italy and jamon of Spain, you’ll almost know what to expect from pršut – but not quite. True Dalmatian pršut begins with a fresh pork leg that’s cured in pure Adriatic seawater, then pressed between large stones to remove the brine. Next the ham is smoked and hung outside to dry in the blasting Bura winds over winter. Pršut is typically then aged for anywhere from one to three years in dark cellars or attics, where its flavors mellow and mature.

Pršut

This dry ham is a distinctive experience in flavor, texture and aroma not found elsewhere, an unmatchable product of Dalmatia’s specific climate and ecosystem. Though passable, commercially produced pršut is available for purchase in supermarkets and butcher shops in Dalmatia, many families make and prefer their own. Once you’ve tasted true Dalmatian pršut, homemade with the time and love it requires, you’ll understand why. But since it’s not produced for export, you’ll just have to visit Dalmatia to discover for yourself.


Rižot = Risotto

July 19, 2007 – 9:24 am

risottoparty.jpg

In addition to the Adriatic Sea, coastal Croatia shares centuries of history with Italy. That said, it won’t be surprising to learn that Arborio rice is prepared and enjoyed in much the same way as Italian risotto in Dalmatia. In fact, a few recipes are practically identical. One of the hallmarks of Dalmatian cuisine is crni rižot (TSIR-nee REE-zhot), or ‘black risotto’. Known in Italy as Risotto Nero di Sepie, traditional black risotto calls for the meat and ink of the cuttlefish, the latter of which lends the characteristic black color and silken texture to the broth.

Gule and Ivica decided to have a little party one Sunday afternoon last summer. They prepared a delicious risotto with chicken and langoustines in the courtyard behind the kiosk while we all enjoyed our neighbors’ company with music and a few beers. The recipe was Ivica’s but Gule did most of the work. Once the steaming heap of PERFECT risotto was ready and placed lovingly in the alley, Jakov set up a “DJ booth” on his balcony and played classic American pop and soul 45’s from the only record player in the village. Neighbors who crept out of their houses into the alley to see what was happening were answered with a plate of risotto, a beer and a lot of smiles. Ivica reveals the ingredients for his risotto in this video from the happening:

Perhaps the strangest part of the event is that there’s nothing strange about it at all in Marina or other places like it in Dalmatia. Life is simple and companionship is a simple matter of stepping outside your door. People are known to spontaneously gather in random locations to enjoy food, drink and music together, whether it’s in a courtyard, on the beach or in the street. And were it not for the phonograph, it would not have been unheard of for the men to burst into song. Spontaneous public conviviality is but one of Dalmatia’s countless charms, and one of many reasons you should consider making a visit.


Mimice: A Zagreb Institution

June 27, 2007 – 12:15 pm

Fried fish at Mimice in Zagreb, Croatia

If you’re looking for more than a snack, but not quite a full-blown meal in the center of Zagreb, Mimice (MEE-mee-tseh, meaning ‘things overlooked or hidden’) may be just the place for you. Set into the foundation of Ulica Nikole Jurišića 21, this mom-and-pop fish house is just a few blocks east of the main square. The selection of fried Adriatic fish, potatoes and a few simple vegetable dishes is offered a la carte, which makes the unpretentious hideaway ideal for those who enjoy sampling from one another’s plates. Service is cafeteria-style. Simply walk up to the counter, tell the lady in the hair net what you’d like, then pay for it (in cash) at the cash register.

Mimice happens to be Zagreb’s oldest quickie fish place, but it’s so clean you’d think it opened last month. The dark blue interior is very easy on the eyes, while high stools and faux marble-top tables give the atmosphere of a tavern. With its utilitarian list of beer and wine, it may as well be. Plates are priced very reasonably, so the nearly hidden gem is a favorite haunt of Zagreb’s gossiping older set and a great place for a quick meal of fish with a beer or two. Fried mackerel, squid, sardines and anchovies are almost always available, but if it wasn’t caught at the coast in the last day or two, you can’t have it. The best deal going is a plate of ribice (REE-bee-tseh), which simply means ‘little fish’. While the term can apply to any number of small, bite-sized net fish, the ribice at Mimice are typically plump, flavorful sprats. A generous portion of these will set you back 13 kuna (about $2), and little else on the menu costs more than 30. The water, gossip and occasional performances by drunken old men with fried fish on their breath are free of charge.

Mimice - Ulica Nikole Jurišića 21, Zagreb 10000
Monday through Friday, 8am - 9pm
Saturday, 8am - 5pm
Closed on Sunday


Gratuitous Steak Shots

June 1, 2007 – 3:54 am

Gratuitous Steak Shot

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Zucchini Griddlecakes

May 26, 2007 – 11:14 am

zucchinipancakes

My first encounter with these exquisite little flaps of vegetalia was on the Pelješac peninsula in southern Croatia, where they are known as uštipce od tikve. Now, these are pretty straightforward, down-home little numbers, so I’d be shocked, stunned and amazed if they did not exist in some form in the culinary lexicon of a few other cultures (They actually remind me of some of the whimsical concoctions my grandmother Fredonia Goddard used to prepare). At any rate, my lesson in preparing these came on a sweltering afternoon in Kučište from a respected village patriarch, Mr. Matias Glavaš. Indeed, the rendition of zucchini griddlecakes that he prepared for me that day while the stuffy Jugo winds blew in from the south could come from nowhere other than coastal Croatia, as his recipe calls for rogačica, a rare, bittersweet liqeur made from carob pods (Carob came to Croatia thanks to the Greeks, you know). My rendition, however, uses a sprinkling of white truffle oil in the batter.