What you're looking at may very well be the platonic ideal of crab and corn chowder. Note the massive chunks of crab, the bounty of fat yellow kernels of corn and a creamy broth whose surface is speckled with little pools of chili oil. Made and photographed by Susan Filson of the appealingly named Sticky, Gooey, Creamy, Chewy, it looks like the perfect antidote to summer's swelter: If the dog days are getting you down, fight them off with a bit of crab.
Shrimp are delicious hot, warm or cold, full of health benefits and perfect for summer grilling and beach side picnics. I start to feel like Bubba from "Forrest Gump" when I'm listing all the ways I cook them -- shrimp salad, shrimp skewers, shrimp dipped in coconut, shrimp with chipotle and orange -- but I think the guy was on to something.
In addition to their versatility, shrimp, also called "fruit of the sea," are high in tryptophane. That's one of the 10 essential amino acids, serving to soothe the nervous system and aid relaxation. They also contain high amounts of vitamin D, the new super antioxidant being touted for cancer prevention.
Read on for Jennifer's four-step method for devining shrimp and the reason she gets funny looks at the grocery store.
In Greenport, N.Y., about 100 miles outside of New York on Long Island, Mike Osinski farms oysters on the upper reaches of the Peconic Bay. His bivalves, called Widow's Holes after the pond outside of his house, end up on the menus at some of the city's best restaurants. One of these, the Mermaid Inn, organized a trip to Widow's Hole earlier this week to shed some light on "Everything Oysters": how they're farmed, harvested, shucked and, most importantly, eaten.
Osinski, a former computer programmer who started his Widow's Hole Oyster Company in August 2004, proved an amiable and knowledgeable guide, regaling his students with oyster history while his three Labrador retrievers lolled about near empty oyster cages and the Shelter Island ferry cut a lazy swath through the Greenport Bay waters once home to no less than 30 oyster companies.
After sunscreen, citronella candles and heat rash, does anything say "summer" more unequivocally than a lobster roll?
This baby, captured by VirtualErn at Flickr, appears to be the lobster roll to end all lobster rolls, the embodiment of the deceptively simple art of serving chunks of crustacean, barely dressed in mayonnaise, in a bun. Note the minimal accessories: lemon slices, crisp coleslaw and a drop of mayo. The better the roll, the fewer adornments it requires. If this specimen tastes as good as it looks, it most likely calls out for little more than a good appetite -- and, possibly, a bib.
Sea urchins, on the face of it, are not likely candidates for the title of Sexiest Seafood. Their spiny shells make them look like porcupines of the sea, and give little hint of the outrageously creamy, briny decadence that they contain. But this saffron-hued roe, whose complex, salty-sweet-sharp flavor profile is beloved by chefs, is now making diners swoon.
David Chang has been using sea urchin roe on his menu at Momofuku Ssam Bar and Ko for a long while, and now Michael White is making them the star of his menu at his new restaurant, Marea. A great article tomorrow in WSJ. magazine provides a peek at both White's droolingly anticipated new restaurant and at sea urchin, which is pictured in all of its spiny, golden glory.
Learn about the delectably slimy urchins after the jump.
Over the weekend we received a disturbing note: "I mangled the (H-E-double-hockey-sticks) out of my scallops tonight and don't want to do it again." Instantly, we switched to nerd mode and wanted to help.
As fans of the sea, we can think of no better flavor than that of a deliciously caramelized scallop, seared on its lonesome in molten brown butter to crispy brown, tender perfection (as in the above photo). Achieving such perfection, for most, is another reality entirely. Overcooked, oversauced and overseasoned are the usual adjectives employed when a pan of these pliant bivalves meets a cruel fate.
Scallops are among the most delicate creatures in our oceans. Store them on ice or in the coldest part of the fridge to keep them fresh. Like a Grade-A steak, a scallop has natural sugars begging to be exploited. Try one raw and you'll understand why. But grocery store scallops are another story: they tend to come with a lot of water, which results in the first sin of searing. Award-winning chef Cathal Armstrong of Virginia's Restaurant Eve says a lot of scallops are treated with liquid phosphates. "They absorb them and it gives them a better retail value -- and white color -- but also a lot of water." Look for "dry pack" or "unsoaked" scallops. If that's not possible, drain them, pat them dry with a paper towel and dust them with easy available Wondra flour, which Armstrong says, "doesn't clump, but instead gives it a nice crust."
As much as I love eggs, quiche was never one of my favorite dishes. I could appreciate the taste, but a few bites would always be more than enough. Nevertheless, the other day I decided to make one for myself and it makes all the difference.
Forget recipes with carefully measured ingredients. The key to a perfect quiche is filling it with tastes you love. It's that simple. If you don't want it to be too eggy, use less egg and more filler. If you want it to be less dry, fill it up with your favorite cheeses. If you hate to eat eggs without bread, make sure some grainy flavor and texture comes through in the pie crust.
The above quiche is a super-quick crab and asparagus. The crust was a quick recipe from RecipeZaar, that I threw a little multigrain flour into, as well as an extra cup of ground, toasted pine nuts. The asparagus was chopped and blanched for a few minutes while the quiche came together -- the crust, a generous layer of crab (imitation in this case) and asparagus, plus some chopped shallots, fresh basil and a mixture of leftover cheese. The eggs where whipped up with a generous helping of sour cream and poured in, and the quiche was baked at 350 until the top was firm and gentle pressure didn't release uncooked streams of gelatinous egg.
The pine nuts offered an excellent toasty flavor while the creamy eggs and cheese melded perfectly with the basil, crab, and asparagus. But really -- the flavor is up to you.
WC Fields once said "I love children ... if they're cooked properly." As a dedicated meat eater, I tend to have similar feelings about vegans.
While some of my best friends deny themselves the joy of animal products, I simply can't imagine completely divorcing myself from cheese, honey, milk and all the wonderful foods that come from animals. On some level, the idea of approaching life from a tofu haze seems almost suicidally self-abnegating.
In fact, while I have occasionally practiced vegetarianism, I am, at heart, a true carnivore. For health reasons, I try to limit my consumption, but I believe, both philosophically and sensually, that meat is an important part of my diet, if not everyone else's.
But which meat is the best? For health reasons, I'd probably go with chicken or turkey, but if it came to richness, my answer might be duck or veal. In terms of flavor, the answer could be lamb or beef, but for extravagance, it's hard to top a nice big buffalo filet mignon. Then again, in the summer, nothing beats a good grilled swordfish steak ... except for maybe a piece of lightly seared tuna.
Late Thursday night, a security guard at Bally's Hotel and Casino in Atlantic City, New Jersey noticed an unknown man emerging from a restricted kitchen area. The man wasn't a hotel employee, and there was something strange about his appearance, so the guard decided to investigate. As he got closer, he realized that the man had stuffed his clothes with what later turned out to be 91 frozen lobsters. The perpetrator, 38-year-old Anthony Jones was subsequently arrested.
When I first read this story, I imagined that it had to be something of a fluke. First off, there was the impressive number of lobsters; how does one hide 91 spiny crustaceans in one's clothes? Second, there was the simple improbability of the crime. It's hard to imagine that a lot of criminals have attempted to steal lobsters through concealment in clothing.
When one googles "stealing lobster," the vast majority of hits focus on lobster poaching. Even a brief perusal will convince one that this crime is very serious, at least for the denizens of Maine, and the punishment is pretty severe. If the police catch you, you're looking at serious jail time. If fishermen catch you...well, let's just say that you'd probably prefer that the police catch you.
For about 3.7 seconds today, I was asking myself if I have, perchance, been spending a tad too much time on Twitter lately. But, seeing as how said dallying then led to a deftly jazzed-up ramen recipe, courtesy of the author of one of my favorite food memoirs of the recent past, I don't see how any of us could afford not to. Kathleen Flinn is no stranger to the tireless, if sometimes penniless, pursuit of the delicious; The Sharper Your Knife The Less You Cry chronicles her loss of a lucrative corporate lifestyle and subsequent savings investment in a degree program at Le Cordon Bleu. While the the corner shops of Gay Paree may not have been chock-a-block with student budget-friendly ramen bricks, Flinn picked up a flavor trick or ten between puff pastry and boning lessons and shares her method for infusing the noodles with the brightness of miso, green onions, fresh herbs, Sriracha and citrus, as well as other light-wallet recipes.
Clearly, at-home ramen can be a reward rather than a last resort. How are you gussying them up, or are you hooked on the packet? Please share with the rest of the (broke...oh, so painfully broke) class, why don'tcha?
There's nothing quite like having the desire to use a few ingredients in your fridge, doing a quick Google search, and finding something that incorporates it all right away.
I've been on a mission to clear out my fridge and freezer as much as possible over the next week, go away for a week, and come back and restock (hopefully in a more rational and less "oh my god that looks good!" way). So the lone remnants in my fridge that caught my eye -- imitation crab, lemons, some almost-bad celery, and a jar of horseradish I don't use nearly enough. A quick "crab salad" search brought up this result over at RecipeZaar. Imitation crab meat. Celery. Lemon juice. Horseradish. It answered every whim!
Horseradish mixed with dill, mayo, and lemon and added to seafood is just divine. This shouldn't really come as a surprise considering the fact that horseradish is the backbone of cocktail sauce, but how many of us actually horse up our salads? It's a woefully underused ingredient.
And if you decide to follow the recipe, I urge you to get creative. Mix up the mayo/lemon/etc beforehand with the spices until you get a sauce that makes you wow, then add it to your collection of crab and veggies. I just did it by eye and taste, and it was so very worth it.
Like so many things in life, oysters defend themselves against being desirable by being potentially deadly. The maxim used to be that it's safe to eat oysters in any month with an "r" in it -- i.e., September -- April. Well, January has an "r" in it, but after a recent mishap, I got curious: when, exactly, is it safe to eat oysters, when not, and what makes an oyster safe to eat anyway? Here is some information for molluskophiles, molluskophiliacs, and molluskophobes.*
What is an oyster? An oyster is an animal that belongs to one of the groups of bivalve mollusks which live in brackish marine habitats and belongs to the species Ostrea, Crassostrea or Saccostrea. From the human perspective, oysters are used as food or to grow pearls (though the oysters that do the one do not typically also do the other).
The outrageous, irreverent Flora-Bama Lounge and Package straddles the Florida-Alabama border on a thin strip of land called Perdido Key, a few miles of gleaming white sand between the Gulf of Mexico and the Intracoastal Waterway. This part of the country is, for better or worse, also known as the Redneck Riviera, and my family owns a condo there. At any given time, the Flora-Bama sees more action than any other spot on Perdido Key, with the Crab Trap and Shrimp Basket following distantly in the wake.
In the five years we've owned the condo, I ventured into the Flora-Bama for the first time only recently, at the urging of some curious houseguests from up North who were itching for some local color. We'd planned to get appetizers there before heading to supper elsewhere, but the potty-themed lyrics of the live music induced us to stick to the scenery and a round of Coronas with lime.
Corona is Corona, but the scenery is one of a kind. Above a pair of clotheslines on the ceiling weighted down with what must be thousands of seemingly spontaneously donated bras of every shape and color, there is a sign, pictured, listing the Interstate Mullet Toss Age Categories. The Mullet Toss is exactly what it sounds like. Each year, the Flora-Bama holds a competition to see who can throw a dead mullet, a fish native to Gulf waters, farthest across the state line. More on the scenery, including a photo, after the jump.
One of the great things about delicacies is that, while they may be rare, they are only worth what someone is willing to pay for them. For example, sturgeon eggs may be a taste treat, but if nobody is willing to fork over the a small fortune, then they are, essentially, just bait. Recently, this simple fact has become quite important as lobster, which was once priced well out of the range of the average person has started to come within reach. The freakish crustaceans are now going for about $2.50 per pound wholesale, down from a high of about $10 per pound in spring 2007. In terms of retail price, this translates into a drop of at least $4 per pound. In some Boston-area seafood markets, the price hovered in the $7 range earlier this year; depending upon one's location, it has subsequently dipped well below that.
There are two big reasons for the great lobster drop. One is the fact that many high-end consumers, the kinds of people who could afford to eat lobster regularly, were hit particularly hard by 2008's financial meltdown. The second reason lies in the collapse of Iceland's economy: seafood producers in Canada that used Icelandic banks have not been able to get the credit they need to buy large amounts of lobster.
Personally, I'm going to be taking advantage of this sudden piece of good news. While I'm not a big fan of shelled lobster - to be honest, the huge crustaceans remind me of aquatic cockroaches and the whole lobster dining experience is disturbingly like an alien autopsy - lobster tails and lobster bisque are among my favorites. What's more, with lobster going for a fraction of its former price, this might be the perfect time for a Monty Pythonrecipe that I've always wanted to try: Lobster Thermidor Aux Crevettes with Mornay Sauce, Truffle Pate, Brandy, Fried Egg and Spam. While I'm at it, I'm also keeping an eye on other delicacies; after all, who knows what will drop next?
We can change the way we make eggs -- scrambled, poached, fried -- but what about changing the eggs themselves? Mix up your scrambling routine with quail eggs.