If you’re in the mood for a food read, pick up a copy of Jacques Pepin’s The Apprentice. It’s a delightful read, portraying some of the last days of old school French cooking via the apprenticeship method. There are some wonderful recipes as well.
Secondly, definitely check out Rowan Jacobsen’s Apples of Uncommon Character. It’s a fascinating look at what Jacobsen calls The Sexond Age of Apples, the recovery and resurgence of heirloom, regional varieties across the country and the world. And frankly anything else by Rowan is worth your time and money, especially American Terrior if you’ve not already read it.
Kitchen knife confidential – Knives are quite simply at the heart of a Chef’s tool chest. Whether you do food for a living, for fun, or out of necessity, they should be at the center of yours, too. There are a lot of myths and misconceptions about cooking knives, and a few solid truths. First, in answer to the question most asked, ‘Do Chefs really always carry their own knives,’ the answer is a resounding yes. Were you to attend any serious cooking school, you’d be required above all else to have your own knives with you from day one – No knives, no school…
My Element Fe knives on a recent trip to Montana. Hammered, hand forged high carbon steel, with Ebony handles and bronze hardware.In any serious kitchen across this world, the same rule applies – while they’ll be stocked with cookware, hand tools, and the like, you gotta have and use your own knives, period, end of story. And yes, when we travel, we bring our own knives with us, without fail. Knives to a Chef are like a glove to a pro baseball player – Personal, bordering on sacred. Many professional Chefs are truly knife obsessed, and many are collectors. Buying a new knife when changing positions, venues, or promoting is quite common. The kit a Chef uses daily and brings along with them when they travel vary from extremely simple to foot locker complex.
The power of the knife, at least from the male perspective, surely stems from its roots as a weapon of war and personal defense. Just as a soldier would pamper and never be found without a sword, so it goes in the kitchen, (This is my deba! There are many debas like it, but this one is mine!”) That sort of heavy stuff generates some fairly hefty superstition around the tool as well, some of which might surprise you.
How much of this weighty chef emphasis translates to the home kitchen? A fair share, if you’re savvy and serious about your cooking. There are solid reasons why you should buy, keep, use, and properly maintain a decent set of your own; efficacy, safety, and performance first among them. That said, this does not imply the need for expensive, by any sense of the word. My Sis, Ann Lovejoy is an inspired and extremely talented chef, and she uses an inexpensive set like these here – they serve her well, and when they get too dull, she buys more – If that seems like blasphemy, it ain’t. Sharpening isn’t for everyone, especially if that process gets between you and the joy of cooking.
My friends Christy and Lissa have between them some pretty nice quality knives that get sharpened, I’m fairly certain, once a year, when I visit northern Minnesota to play music and cook.
And then there’s me, with a set built up from a core of custom knives forged by a local maker, (every aspect of them chosen by me, made to my exact specifications), augmented by a few specialty varieties I use occasionally. Where you lie on the spectrum depends on a bunch of factors, wallet, willingness to perform maintenance, and expected performance chief among them. What’s best is what works well for you, so let’s explore that.
Chef, utility, paring – All you really need.First off, which knives do you really, truly need? The answer is, not many. There are a bunch of opinions on this, so I’ll add mine – A kitchen can get by very capably with a full sized chefs knife, a smaller derivation thereof, and a parer. That’s it- seriously. Nine times out of ten when I cook, some variation on that theme is all I use. Often enough, it’s two of those three.
A chefs knife could mean the traditional western shape and size, usually found in anywhere from 7″ to 12″ lengths, (there’s also a Japanese variant known as a Gyutou, which is almost identical in shape to a western chef knife). The chefs knife is the workhorse of your kit, so the length depends on what wields most comfortably for you. For most of us, that’s going to be an 8″ knife, with which you can do almost anything. If you watch food porn on TV, you might see a whole episode of Chopped or Iron Chef wherein a chef or Sous uses nothing but their big blade for everything they do – That kind of dexterity depends on thousands of hours of knife work in order to be accomplished safely – And that’s why there are shorter knives for folks who don’t do this professionally.
The eastern chefs knife, the Santoku, means ‘three virtues’, a nod to the fact that this knife is equally good at slicing, dicing, and mincing. Like a western chefs knife, there’s not much you can’t do with a good Santoku. They are generally lighter in weight than a western blade, which certainly speaks to their popularity. Of the two options, I opt for the Santoku; I like the shape and balance better than the traditional western blade, so that’s what I use exclusively. Since the shape, weight, and balance of chefs knives vary considerably, you’ll need to do some handling in order to determine what floats your boat.
While western chefs knives feature what I’d call a drop point blade shape, a Santoku has what’s known as a sheepsfoot tip – that difference can be a real key to comfort of use, (AKA how often or likely you are to cut yourself using one – One of the big reasons I favor a Santoku). Your chefs knife will do everything from cutting up poultry to chopping vegetables or slicing fruit; it’s only downside is its size, which means a smaller knife is prudent for more delicate work. Western chef knives sold commercially are most often stainless steel, while the Santoku is commonly made from high carbon steel – More on that in a bit.
The smaller derivative in western knives is often called a utility knife, while Japanese variants are the Deba or Nakiri – Again, shapes, points, and lengths vary considerably, and require hands on use for a proper buying decision. As you can see from the picture of my knife roll, I use a small Deba as my second knife. This knife does everything a chef knife will do, but on a smaller scale, and by the same token, can break into the realm of tasks usually assigned to a parer. The greater weight and length of this knife both advantage and disadvantage versus a paring blade.
And finally there’s a parer, called just that in western patterns, and either paring or Petty knife in eastern versions. A parer is usually around a 3″ knife with a thin and somewhat flexible blade. This is the knife to use when field stripping a chile, cutting supremes of fruit, or any other fine kitchen work requiring precise control. My personal parer has a somewhat thicker and more rigid blade than this design generally does – That’s my preference, and one reason I use knives that were made specifically for me.
My kit, and yes, even cheap ass steak knives – They’re Stanley’s, and M loves ’em…As you can see from the various pictures here, and from any store that sells cooking knives, there are a bunch more variants in both western and Japanese styles. The truth of the matter is that most of these are highly specialized and intended for professionals who depend on their knives for their living. This does not imply that home chefs don’t or won’t need to get some of these over time. My personal quiver also includes a boning knife, a slicer, and a large, heavy cleaver, because I buy proteins in bulk and butcher at home. Filling out my kit are a thin, flexible clip point parer, a birds beak or tourné tip parer, a small, serrated slicer, and a serrated bread knife. That said, I’ll note that I’m not a guy who keeps kitchen tools around that I don’t use, and all of those have remained with me long enough to earn their places. It’s unlikely that either you or I will need an offset slicer, tomato knife, or a hankotsu, but if you ever do, have no doubt there’ll be somebody out there happy to sell, or make you one.
So, you’re ready to buy some knives – What kind they’ll be is a primary consideration, and in so choosing, you’ll need to decide what they’ll be made of. The primary decision in blade material is stainless versus high carbon steel. While there are many derivations and combinations, (including high carbon stainless, just mess with your head), the primary difference is the addition of chromium to the basic blend that makes high carbon steel – That chromium imparts enhanced resistance to rust and corrosion – stainless steel. Now, there’s some seriously hard stainless out there,I can tell you first hand – I’ve had some stainless knives that took a lot of work to sharpen – but when it’s all said and done, the truth is that high carbon steel will stay sharper longer than stainless and is notably easier to sharpen – As such, if you don’t want to fuss with a lot of sharpening, you should keep that in mind.
Next you’ll be picking blade shape and size, and finally, handle shape and material – As I mentioned above, choosing knives isn’t generally something to be done online; you’ll want hands on to know what feels right to you. All of these factors impact the cutting ability of any given knife for you, let alone balance, feel, and comfort. There are grips or handles made from every synthetic thing you can name, as well as a wide variety of woods. This too is an important consideration, impacting how sound the tool feels in your hand, how long they’ll last, and how much work will be required on your part to maintain them. Again, get into the custom realm, and you can and will pick not only handle material, but grip shape, wood, as well as bolster and rivet material. Whether or not all that matters is up to you.
Every variant from cheap over the counter, to decent, to very high end production knives, semi-custom to true custom, is out there. While Henckles and Wusthoff, and Shun to Khun make great knives, there are small batch makers in both schools, here in the states and overseas, that you can check out. And then there are the true hand-makers, like Andy Gladish of Element Fe Forge here on Washington State’s Guemes Island – The man who makes my knives. His knives combine artistry with the age old science of hand forging; they are a delight in the hand and a joy to use. As with many makers, Andy sells production knives, as well as semi and true custom work. His stuff is, frankly, probably cheaper than it should be, which is your gain. If you find yourself at a farmers market up here in the northwest corner of the state, poke around and you’re likely to find Andy. You can have production pieces from him for under $50 a piece, and you could easily do a very, very nice three knife set for under $300. For hand made knives, that’s amazing. Wherever you live, you’ve likely got an Andy close by – If you’re to the point where the thought of a handmade blade or two appeals, go find them. In my case, the chance to collaborate with the maker, choosing blade composition, length, weight, flexibility, adding some pretty rare ebony handles made from wood I’ve had in my stash for a long time, coupled with brass bolsters and rivets, was the heart of why I wanted to go custom – It allowed my personal experience and preferences to be translated to the tools themselves – My recipe, in essence.
Finally, a note on sharpening, and on choosing between western and Japanese knives – Japanese blades are traditionally sharpened on only one side, known as a chisel grind, and as such are made in variants designed for right and left handed chefs. Western blades are generally sharpened on both sides, most often in a straight V, but also found in compound, and hollow grinds.
Pay strict attention to what your buying if you’re going to maintain your knives yourself – You’ve got to be able to consistently and safely sharpen whatever you chose.
Whether you sharpen by hand, or mechanically, or have it done for you, depends on your level of comfort and willingness to fuss with things. Whether you have expensive or cheap knives, they need to be sharp. The reasons are simple and twofold – Dull knives don’t perform well, and they’re dangerous – The former leads to the latter – pushing extra hard on a dull parer has caused more hand injuries than you can shake an E.R. at, so don’t go there.
As a woodworker, I’ve always sharpened my own tools, from chainsaws to chisels, and that’s how I do my cooking knives. That said, I appreciate efficiency and maximum time in cooking, so I’ve tried many variants of the mechanical sharpener, from $19.95 hand held versions to the $180 electric, three-stage version that sits in my kitchen these days – While I’d personally never sharpen a chisel or plane iron with anything mechanical, I’m happy to do so in the kitchen, with the right tool, (and Andy uses a simple belt sander for the job); if hand sharpening appeals to you, check out Scary Sharp, the method I use for my hand tools.
Something like my Chef’s Choice unit, with diamond, hard steel, and leather stages, will make any blade shaving sharp in short order. That said, that device will enforce the only grind it knows how to do on your nice, new knife, either sharpening, changing it radically, or possibly ruining it, so be careful. Sharpening is as much art as it is mechanics. Putting a good edge on a knife puts you in touch with the feel of the metal itself – What it’s made of, how hard it is, and how it responds to the heat and friction of sharpening.
By the way, there’s nothing wrong with Chris and Liss having knives sharpened once a year. They’re both good cooks, and they know what they like. I, on the other hand, am kinda seriously OCD about sharp, so mine get far more attention. That said, I just handed a full set of Henckles that I bought in 1998 to my youngest son, some 18 years later. They’re far from worn out, and he’ll get decades more of good user from them, without a doubt.
Our friend Doug Luchetti is a source of great stories and ideas. He reads and contemplates voraciously, and shares what he finds.
This piece on Fruit Walls, a forgotten piece of low tech agriculture, seems a timely reminder of how much worked perfectly well before we got smarter and messed most of it up. Before we all go out and start slinging bricks, look at this second pic of an old English version – one good wall might just be all ya need.
Our little 700 square foot home has one big west facing wall that gathers copious amounts of afternoon sun – seems a little vertical gardening there is in order this spring – Stay tuned!
My Nephew Ian comes up with so many good questions that turn into posts, I should have him on the payroll… This time around, he asks “Was thinking about making a cauliflower purée – how do I do that so that it actually tastes good?” The question sparked the realization that I get a lot of questions about purèes, so it’s time to expand on the topic.
Most humans start out eating purées as their first ‘solid’ food; that may explain both the attraction as well as the reticence many adults have with the concept. A purée is basically a sauce, somewhere between a paste and a very thick liquid in consistency. Point of fact, several variants are things we eat quite often, like apple sauce and mashed potatoes. Others are a bit rarer, like the cauliflower Ian asked about. The term is, of course, French – it means to purify or refine, and it’s quite old – My research found references to it all the way back to the 1200s.
Achieving a purée isn’t difficult; foods can be blended, processed, ground or sieved to achieve the desired result. That means that those of you who don’t have blenders or processors won’t be left out – something as simple as a sturdy single mesh strainer, a masher, or an old fashioned potato ricer will work just fine for many foods; a large fork will work in a pinch, too.
When it comes to constructing a tasty purée, a little forethought goes a long way. Potatoes lend themselves selflessly to the process, while that cauliflower requires a bit more effort. In both cases, (as with most foods you purée), cooking is necessary; this achieves several things, from making a food purée-able, to arriving at the desired consistency, and improving overall flavor. Steaming is always a great first cooking choice as it preserves nutrient content better than boiling does. A slow, gentle simmer is another good choice. At a minimum, blanching prior to puréeing takes the raw edge off, and maintains nice, bright colors as well.
Next consideration is water content. You might think that the average spud has more water onboard than cauliflower does, but it ain’t necessarily so – cauliflower is around 92% water, while the potatoes are more like 79%, (root veggies are among the lowest water content of any of the common veggies, one reason they store well.) What that tells us is that the cauliflower is going to require some reduction in water content to achieve a good purée, while the spuds will need some moisture added. Here’s a handy reference for future use.
Next consideration is the overall taste profile – what you’re after with a purée. Foods that have big flavor right out of the chute, like apples and berries, or sweet peppers and fresh peas, don’t need a whole lot of reinforcement to make a great purée – A little spice in the former (cinnamon, vanilla bean, ginger for instance), a little seasoning in the latter (sea salt, fresh ground pepper, a touch of citrus), and you’re good to go. Working with a light touch in either example allows the food being puréed to shine without being overpowered. Now that cauliflower, well… There are certainly folks who like this veggie plain, but it’s a safe bet more of us like some serious augmentation – my version treats it pretty much like mashed potatoes, adding stock, dairy, and fresh herbs, as you’ll see below. Personally, I treat almost all root veggies that way – They’re big on starch and sugar, but can all use some help in the taste arena.
A few final thoughts. A purée is a nice change of pace, and a great way to insert a touch of flavor into every bite of a main course dish. Whatever you purée, a nice, smooth consistency is what you’re after – gritty or lumpy isn’t likely to float anybody’s boat – This is where stock and dairy, (cream, sour cream, butter, and yoghurt are all nice), really shine as an adjunct ingredient. Keep that textural change in mind; make sure there are plenty of other touches, like a little crunch, so that you’re presenting a nice, balanced plate. Consider something a bit outside the box when you’re ready to try one – The herbed blueberry version below goes great with pork or chicken, as a for instance.
Here’s a couple to get you started.
Cauliflower Purée
1 Head Cauliflower
1/4 Cup Vegetable Stock
2 Tablespoons Butter
1 Tablespoon Avocado Oil
1 teaspoon Lemon Thyme
1 teaspoon Sea Salt
Rinse cauliflower, pat dry, and cut into roughly 1/2″ chunks.
Place cauliflower in a steamer basket, within a large pot with about an inch of water therein.
Turn heat to medium high until water starts to boil.
Cover pot, reduce heat to low, and steam cauliflower until it mashes easily when tested with a fork, about 15 to 20 minutes.
Transfer cauliflower to a blender or processor. Add stock, oil, butter, lemon juice, and salt. Pulse until a nice, smooth consistency is achieved, about a minute.
Crush lemon thyme by hand and add; add a few twists of pepper. Pulse to incorporate, taste and adjust salt and pepper as needed.
Serve promptly.
Herbed Blueberry Purée
2 Cups fresh Blueberries, (frozen will do fine)
2 Tablespoons Agave Nectar
1 Navel Orange
4-5 leaves Fresh Basil (Cinnamon, or Christmas Basil is spectacular)
Pinch Sea Salt
Rinse blueberries, then toss them into a blender or processor and pulse to a smooth consistency, about 30 seconds.
Cut orange in half; zest and juice half, return the rest to fridge.
Chiffonade basil.
In a saucepan over medium heat, combine berries, honey, zest, juice of half orange, and salt.
Bring mixture to a boil, then reduce heat so blend is at a low simmer; cook for 10 to 15 minutes until blend has reduced and thickened notably.
Remove from heat, add basil and stir to incorporate. Allow basil to steep for 15 minutes as the mixture cools.
Pour the blend into a glass bowl through a single mesh strainer to remove solids and basil leaf.
You can serve just as it is, or allow to cool to room temperature.
Will store refrigerated for 3-4 days.
To serve, heat in a sauté pan, add 1 tablespoon of butter and whisk to incorporate.
Dawg treats & human food; virtually all owners have some form of treats around, biscuits and such. Yet it’s likely that far more owners share human food with their canine pals than admit to it. Doing so is pretty natural – Dogs are attracted to the stuff we eat, (as you can see from Bandit’s rapt attention when I was cooking the other day…)
Skip Mansur, an old friend, shared this piece; as he noted, it’s got some pretty cute videos, and some good info on what fruits get the nod as OK to share with your pups. Since its summer and the height of fresh fruit season, it’s a great time to check it out and share it forward.
Here's another great question from reader Pauline all the way over in New Hampshire, on a topic that probably doesn't get asked all that often;
“So, I bake infrequently, and I've got containers of baking soda and baking powder that have been in my pantry forever; do these things go bad? And while you're at it, was is this stuff anyway?
Glad to help, Pauline, and thanks for asking.
The quick and dirty answer to the former question is, yes, they can go bad. Baking soda and powder are chemical leavening agents that promote rising in baked good recipes that don't employ yeast. While the end result is much the same with all three leaveners, the primary benefit imparted by baking soda and powder is speed; they can and should be used right away after mixing, while yeast takes time and really can't be rushed much. The active constituents of both do have a shelf life, albeit a long one. Fortunately, there's a couple of quick test you can do to see if yours still makes the grade.
The first test is to find and read the expiration date; at the risk of being flippant, there are printed dates on the containers of both products, though they may take a bit of sleuthing to find. If yours is past its date, discard it and buy a fresh replacement. When you're at the store, check that expiration date on what you're about to buy; in a professional kitchen, we check the dates on every case that comes in, because it's not that uncommon to find expired product in your just-made delivery, and your local grocery is no exception to that rule.
The second test is for a chemical reaction, and is therefore a bit more definitive. Take a good pinch of baking soda and drop it into some fresh vinegar; if it fizzes actively, you're in business. For baking powder do the same thing into hot water. If either just sit there, toss them
On to the latter question;
Baking soda is pure sodium bicarbonate, an alkaline or base in chemical terms. Combined with moisture and an acidic ingredient like dairy, chocolate, or honey, you get a mild chemical reaction akin to the freshness test you just did. The resulting tiny bubbles of carbon dioxide, (CO2), remain trapped in the batter matrix. Exposed to baking temperatures in your oven, they expand and cause your baked goods to rise. baking soda is a pure chemical base, so it can impart a bitter taste note if you add too much; that said, a little extra is actually a very good thing, for a most interesting reason. Just a bit more baking soda than that needed to neutralize the acid in your recipe contributes in a very positive way to browning and flavor in your finished product. This has to do with the Maillard reaction, named after Louise-Camille Maillard, who first described it about a hundred years ago. What Maillard detailed was a complex set of reactions that lead to such culinary wonders as the luscious crust on your steak, the sweet beauty of caramelized onions, and the golden brown outside of a cream biscuit. On top of the lovely color added, the reaction also produces hundreds of aromatic compounds that add savoriness and complexity; in other words, it's a very good thing indeed. The key is moderation; an eighth of a teaspoon above a stated recipe amount is enough to hit the sweet spot.
Baking powder is a mixture of a base and an acid or acids; sodium bicarbonate is the base, while cream of tartar and sodium aluminum sulfate are the common acids. There's typically a bit of added starch as a carrier for the active ingredients as well. Baking powder is a more complex and balanced leavener than baking soda, since it contains both acid and base; it is completely inert when dry, but when introduced to moisture, the base and acid mix and generate CO2, and you're in business. The reason baking powder is called 'double acting' is the presence of the two different acids. When added to your recipe, the first acid, cream of tartar, mixes with the baking soda and goes to work right away. The second acid, sodium aluminum sulfate, is temperature activated; when your batter or dough hits roughly 175° F, that acid combines with the remaining base and contributes a bit more rise.
You can make basic baking powder at home by combining,
2 teaspoons Cream of Tartar
1 teaspoon Baking Soda
1 teaspoon Corn Starch
The obvious benefit is fresh product, assuming your constituents are, of course, but this will not be a double acting powder and as such, won't have quite the lifting power of the commercially prepared stuff.
If the aluminum makes you nervous, maybe it should. Aluminum has been found to adversely affect reproductive and nervous systems in animal studies. Some human studies have suggested a possible connection between aluminum and Alzheimer's Disease. The health effects of aluminum on humans are not definitive, but nonetheless, the Joint Food and Agriculture Organization/World Health Organization Expert Committee on Food Additives (JECFA) significantly lowered the tolerable intake of aluminum as a result of such studies.
Some recipes call for baking soda, others for baking powder, and some employ both. The leavener(s) called for is governed by the over-arching recipe. The straight base chemistry of baking soda dictates does well with more acidic ingredients, like buttermilk pancakes, or cake recipes that employ vinegar. Baking powder commonly gets paired with more neutral ingredients like plain milk or non-dairy alternatives.
So how about the interchangeability of these two? You can substitute baking powder in place of baking soda using a ratio of 3:1 powder to soda, but it's not a desirable substitute; the significant amount of added acid will impact the taste of your finished product. On the other hand, you cannot sub baking soda for baking powder, since baking soda lacks the acidity needed to make things rise.
With both these leavening agents, it's important to keep in mind that the reaction produced is relatively short lived and begins as soon as you mix ingredients. It's always best practice to have your oven preheated and to bake promptly, otherwise you'll miss the window of efficacy and your goodies will fall flat. Unlike a yeasted dough, which is relatively low in moisture and kneaded until a tough, elastic gluten network is produced that will trap massive amounts of carbon dioxide, quick batters and doughs are made with an extremely moist batter, because baking powder just doesn't generate enough gas to effectively leaven a thicker dough. Additionally, batters have relatively little gluten formation, so they're not that meaning that great at trapping and holding bubbles.