When Life Hands You Lemons, Make Shrimp

My daughter turned 17 yesterday. I think it’s safe to say it wasn’t like birthdays past, what with the global pandemic and quarantine, but it actually ended up being something better: calmer, quieter, less rushed, with time to make a glorious 4-layer black forest cake and get the cooking dishes cleaned up before sitting down to dinner. She had a good (distanced) visit from her best friend and got the gift she’d been asking for. It was a day very well suited to these slower times and she liked it very well indeed.

Of course, all birthday cakes require birthday candles. Anna was justifiably aware that serving people a cake you just breathed all over is probably not a great idea when there’s a life-threatening respiratory disease sweeping the nation so she improved with what was on hand. I present to you: The Birthday Lemon:

Possibly a new family tradition has been born, akin to The Christmas Chicken that adorned the top of our tree for years. The other half of that lemon was put to good use earlier that night as the finishing touch to the easiest, tastiest shrimp recipe imaginable (sorry, Lee Brothers – the pickled shrimp is amazing but it’s not easier). Anna had requested all her favorite Indian dishes for dinner but I wanted to throw in a couple of new things, since we’re in the age of experimental and/or aspirational cooking (the cake we made definitely ticked the box for the latter).

Madhur Jaffrey’s Indian Cooking was a Christmas gift from my sister-in-law a decade ago, and I’ve lost track of the number of times we’ve cooked from it. The pages are splattered with oil and smeared with spices and have notes written all over them; there are at least 8 bookmarks in it at any given time, either from the previous meal or the next one; and it’s one of the cookbooks that I consider indispensable in my kitchen. This particular recipe is meant to be an appetizer and holds its crispiness long enough to make several rounds at a cocktail party; we served it alongside some cocktail-sized meatballs and let the vegetable dishes take center stage.

From Madjur Jaffrey’s Indian Cooking.

Quick-Fried Shrimp

3 oz. rice flour (don’t use regular wheat flour for this!)
2 tsp turmeric
1 tbsp cayenne (you can scale this down if you don’t want spicy shrimp)
2 tbsp ground cumin
2 ½ tsp salt
1 tsp freshly-ground black pepper
Vegetable oil for frying
12 oz (or more – much more) medium shrimp, patted dry
1 lemon (or 1/2, if you're celebrating a birthday)

Mix together the rice flour and spices.

Heat the oil. If you’re using a deep fryer, set it to 300; if you’re pan-frying, make sure you have at least 1 ½ inches of oil in the pan.

Dip the shrimp in the flour mixture to coat. Shake off the excess and fry as many shrimp as will fit in a single layer until slightly crisp on the outside; this will only take a minute or so, so keep an eye on it. Remove with a slotted spoon and drain briefly on paper towels. Do as many batches as you need, sneaking the occasional shrimp for quality control purposes.

Serve hot with lemon wedges on the side.

P.S. The cake, in case you're interested

Romance Novels and Red Beans and Rice: Addressing Those Unrealistic Expectations

I’m not ashamed to admit that I adore a good romance novel – yes, I’ve gotten some of my favorite reading material at CVS. For all that it’s such a maligned genre, there is some very good writing to be found there, as well as some genuinely moving love stories. I have books that I’ve gone back to again and again for the familiarity of the characters and the guarantee of an unambiguously happy ending, something that I appreciate more as time goes by.

While I’ve done plenty of dabbling in supernatural and contemporary romances, my first love has always been historical “bodice-rippers,” problematic as my modern eyes sometimes find the conventions of the genre. Early on I read something called “New Orleans Legacy” by Alexandra Ripley, the author that was tapped to write the heretical so-called sequel to “Gone with the Wind.” Red beans and rice figured prominently in the background of the book so Ms. Ripley thoughtfully included a recipe for red beans and rice that, of course, I had to try.

As sometimes happens with the contents of romance novels, I was disappointed by the real-life version. Undaunted by unrealistic standards, I’ve tried many red beans and rice recipes since then, and mostly just found them to be very underwhelming. Not bad, just not anything that I’d take the time to cook again. (One may draw whatever parallels one wishes to other facets of romance novels with no further commentary from me.)

Quarantine to the rescue! I have a cookbook called Screen Doors and Sweet Tea that I love reading but haven’t cooked from very much, and these past few months have presented an opportunity to do a deeper dive while I seriously consider what cookbooks still deserve space on my shelves (yes, yes, I’ve run out of room again). I’ve now made these red beans and rice twice in as many weeks, with the bonus of having Anna make skillet cornbread as an accompaniment. I haven’t followed the recipe to the letter as I haven’t had smoked sausage on hand, but I can only imagine that the recipe as written would be even more delicious. And it’s super economical; this recipe feeds the four of us until we’re ready to burst, with leftovers, and cost under $5 in ingredients to make (my grocery bill has more than doubled since we’ve started eating every single meal at home, so this is actually a consideration. Also all the stores were basically out of meat last week but – shock! – there were still ham hocks to be found.).

A word of warning: if you’re not willing to deal with ham hocks, skip this. Yes, you can cut up ham, you can cut up sausage, you can do whatever – I’m convinced that the rich, smoky flavor of this recipe is entirely due to the hocks, which look like exactly what they are.

Adapted very slightly from Screen Doors and Sweet Tea by Martha Hall Foose. The Lee Brothers are big fans, which was really all that I needed to know before running out and buying this.

Red Beans and Rice  

1 lb dried red kidney beans
1 bay leaf
1 large onion, chopped
1 green bell pepper, chopped
2-3 celery stalks, chopped
3 garlic cloves, minced
2 smoked ham hocks or 1 ham bone with most of the meat removed

Soak the beans in at least 6 cups of water overnight. Drain well.

Add a large glug of oil or a big dollop of bacon fat to a large Dutch oven (this is where the original recipe has you sauteeing some smoked sausage and using the rendered fat for this step). Add the bay leaf, inion, bell pepper, and celery to the pot. Cook for 3-5 minutes or until tender. Add the garlic and cook for 1 more minute.

Add the ham hocks, drained beans, and enough water to cover by at least an inch. Bring to a boil, then reduce to a low simmer and cook for 2 hours or until the beans are very tender. Keep an eye on the water level; the original recipe called for 2 inches of water but that made the end product a little watery, so I’m erring on the side of caution – it’s easier to add more than take some out. Mash some of the beans against the side of the pot for a creamier consistency.

Remove the ham hocks, remove and shred any meat remaining on the bones, and return to the pot. Season with salt and pepper and maybe just a little teeny bit of hot sauce, and serve over hot white rice.

Dueling to the Death: Shredded Crispy Everything Salad

With grocery trips being few and far between lately, it’s pretty much guaranteed that I go overboard on the fresh vegetables whenever I make a trip. Predictably, about a week or so afterwards we find that we need to eat a lot of veg pretty quickly, and main dish salads start to make an appearance on our table. Don’t get me wrong – we love our salads and they’re not a meal of last resort. It’s just that I go from trying to stretch out the fresh stuff for as long as possible, in which case a salad feels positively profligate, to – well….this.

If I were handing out food awards, this would be a serious contender for Most Unrecognizable Use of Leftovers From Multiple Meals. It could also be a runner-up in the Type of Dressing That You Usually Hate is Actually Delicious and Unhealthiest Transformation of a Lean Protein categories. I imagine it would be even more enjoyable if I had all the ingredients on hand, but I find that I’m becoming a lot more comfortable with substitutions and swaps these days; I’ve even started to – gasp! – improvise recipes, which is Not At All My Thing. The evolution of the cook continues.

My son attacked my daughter with tongs after she took a larger-than-he-deemed-appropriate second serving, and she dumped dressing into her bowl so he wouldn’t want to eat it (he hates all dressings). Evidently she thought it was good enough to go up against a newly-minted brown belt in karate which, as recommendations go, pretty much says it all.

This is adapted very slightly with my own editorial comments from Seriously Good Salads by Nicky Corbishly, one of my favorite cookbooks from last summer. The author recommends using a mandoline for the slicing/shredding, but my chef’s knife did just fine and meant less dishwashing.

Crispy Chicken Shredded Salad with Honey Mustard Dressing

CHICKEN
¼ cup vegetable oil
2 cups shredded cooked chicken (I used turkey)
3 Tbsp cornstarch
¼ tsp salt
¼ tsp garlic salt
¼ tsp freshly ground black pepper
½ tsp paprika

DRESSING¼ cup olive oil
2 tsp white wine vinegar
3 Tbsp honey
2 tsp Dijon mustard
Pinch of salt and pepper, or to taste

SALAD 2 heads romaine lettuce, shredded
¼ cup red cabbage, sliced into thin strips (one of the things I didn’t have, but feel free to throw in whatever bits of greens you have around)
2 carrots, peeled and sliced into thin strips
1 cucumber, sliced into thin strips (I used celery)
1 red bell pepper, sliced into thin strips
1 sweet apple, slice into thin strips
3 radishes, quartered and thinly sliced
4 scallions, sliced

Toss the chicken with the cornstarch, salt, garlic salt, pepper, and paprika and toss to coat evenly.

Heat the vegetable oil in a large skillet over high heat. Add half the chicken and cook until golden brown and crispy, about 4-5 minutes. Remove to a bowl lined with paper towels and repeat with the other half of the chicken.

While the chicken cooks, stir together the dressing ingredients.

Toss together the romaine, vegetables, and apple.

Top each serving of the vegetable mix with the crispy chicken and some sliced green onions, then toss with the dressing.

Socially Distanced Lovechild Pie: Certainly Nothing to do with the Kentucky Derby

One of the unexpected upsides of the quarantine is that I’ve been baking lately, something I gave up a decade ago when David stopped eating gluten. For the most part, I think that gluten-free baking is a sad and joyless endeavor that results in a messy kitchen and a final product that reminds you of what you’re missing. There are exceptions, of course: David’s chocolate chip cookies are hands-down the best ones anywhere ever. Other than that….um…. GF pie crust, maybe? I mostly stick with things that aren’t supposed to have wheat flour in the first place so we don’t have to fiddle with substitutions and sadness (GF flour is the decaf coffee of the dessert world). I ordered some Namaste GF Flour Blend from Amazon in order to make a very specific recipe - I haven't yet, BTW - and having this large bag of 1-for-1 mix on hand has evidently been very inspiring. 

In an alternate universe, the weekend just past is one that we would have spent in northern Michigan with friends at the Sip & Savor wine tasting event. We went last year and had a fantastic time; it was literally the first weekend we’d ever gone away without the kids and it gave us a great preview of what we can expect from life as empty nesters. It also happens to be the weekend of the Kentucky Derby, which we watched last year, mint juleps in hand.

One of my very favorite bloggers in the whole wide world posted a recipe for something that is most emphatically NOT called Derby Pie, because Kern’s Kitchen will try to sue you for trademark infringement if you call it that in spite of the fact that Derby Pie is kind of a thing all over the South. It would be like trying to trademark the name “sweet tea.” Bless their hearts. (See also: Mean-Spirited Censorship Pie.)

As advertised, this version is like the kind of pecan pie that isn’t dripping with corn syrup and making your teeth stick together. But the crust is so tender and delicious and just barely crumbly. It’s sweet and rich with being overwhelming; a 3-bite serving is perfect and a 6-bite serving is almost but not quite too much, and would be wonderful with ice cream. Anna lobbied vigorously against the inclusion of pecans but eventually agreed that they were the perfect amount of texture that kept this from being Too Much, and commented that the end result tasted like a s'more and shortbread had a baby.

This recipe is adapted very slightly from Deb at SmittenKitchen, which is the best food blog ever and you should follow her and also buy her cookbooks. I only included the proportions I used – doubled from what she posted – first because I had 2 extra egg yolks in the fridge looking to get used but now because this is delicious and you should have more of it on hand. There’s not a lot left at this point but I’m going to cut it into bars and freeze it, and at some point soon I’m going to make some really fantastic ice cream featuring bourbon and thaw these out and feel happy all over again.

Socially Distanced Lovechild Pie, Which is Nothing AT ALL Like Derby Pie

CRUST
2 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon fine sea or table salt
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1 cup unsalted butter (cold is fine)

FILLING
1 ½ sticks unsalted butter
2/3 cup dark brown sugar
2/3 cup granulated sugar
2 large eggs
2 large egg yolks
1/2 teaspoon coarse or kosher salt
2 tablespoon bourbon (Deb says it’s optional but nope)(also I used rye because we evidently drank all the bourbon)
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
12 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1 1/2 cups chocolate chips
1 ½ cup toasted and coarsely chopped pecans

Heat the oven to 350°F and cut 2 lengths of parchment paper. Trim to fit a 9x12 pan. Press it into the bottom and sides of your pan in one direction, then use the second sheet to line the rest of the pan, perpendicular to the first sheet. A little nonstick spray underneath helps keep the strips in place.

Combine the flour, salt and sugar in the bowl of a food processor. Cut the butter into chunks, and add it to the bowl, then run the machine until the mixture forms large clumps. Transfer the dough to prepared baking pan and press it evenly across the bottom and 1/4-inch up the sides. Bake for 15-20 minutes, until very pale golden.

Melt the butter. Transfer it to a large bowl and let it cool. Whisk in the sugars until smooth, then eggs, yolks, salt, bourbon, and vanilla. Stir in the flour until just combined, then mix in the chocolate and nuts. Pour over par-baked crust, spreading evenly.

Bake the bars for 20-25 minutes or until the top is firm and golden. Store at room temperature for up to 3 days, or in the fridge for longer.