Since parenthood came into my life, so has weight gain. It hasn’t been all that bad but I think I weigh a bit more now than I did in the days after I pushed that child out. Why? Because the gym is now a long-distant memory. Since we clearly like to eat, the gym was once my very good friend four or five times a week pre-child. Now, I’m lucky to even get a long walk to the park. If I still have energy after a day of chasing after a 1 year old, I’ll may pop in a yoga DVD, but I now realize that “5 Minute ABS” only works when you are doing more than just “5 Minute Abs”. I refuse to stop eating or drinking wine but I miss those carefree days of hitting the gym whenever I wanted to sweat off my stress and weekend steak and potatoes.

So how does Mariah Carey fit into this post? Well, recently, Mariah debuted her “post baby body” – a phrase I’m kinda getting sick of seeing on magazine covers. Yeah, yeah, she did it through diet and exercise and did gain like a million pounds while on bedrest with her twins but she has a FLAT STOMACH AGAIN! How about this chick - she did a Vickis Secret bra and panties modeling shoot a few weeks after giving birth. I was still wearing my “belly band” at that point.

But, it’s never too late to try and lose a bit of that baby weight, huh? This ceviche is the perfect way to attempt to do so without getting depressed that all you are eating is salad and brown rice. This ceviche is a bit different than the ones you may have had in the past. Normally, ceviche’s fish/shellfish is “cooked” by lime or lemon juice acid that it marinates in. This particular ceviche requires one to actually cook the seafood first. It is inspired by street food we had in Brooklyn several years ago. We have remembered it all this time – it was the type of NYC street food that is very hard to find these days (one that is probably illegal and delicious). With street food becoming a weird trendy thing, possibly because of the invention of the Vendy Awards and the infiltration of slick food trucks, it is sometimes hard to find street food that isn’t overdone or trying too hard. This particular hot summer day, we discovered a woman on her stoop with a little table containing a large, plastic vat, a tupperware filled with avocados and two bottles of hot sauce. For $2.50 we received half a perfectly ripe avocado filled with shrimp ceviche in a spicy tomato sauce. It was served on a white napkin with a plastic fork. The avocado skin served as it bowl. We happily sat on the neighbors stoop inhaling this amazing snack.

Five years later, we finally got around to trying our hand at the ceviche. After a bit of research, we discovered that this ceviche is closer to an Ecuadorian ceviche which is different from the Peruvian type most are accustomed to. The main difference between the two is 1) a tomato-based marinade with a “soup like” consistency 2) most often made using shrimp that is cooked/boiled first and 3) served with popcorn and fried plantains. We played around a bit with our recipe, adding some things that are probably not traditional. For instance, the tomato base of the Ecuadorian ceviche “sauce” is often made with ketchup and doesn’t have olives. We used some Goya tomato sauce and added olives for briny-ness. We also had some baby octopus that needed eating up, so we threw that in there too.

A few weeks of this as a weeknight meal and I may not have a stomach like Mariah or legs like that Victoria’s Secret model but who cares. It’s the trying that counts, right?

He’s certainly not the first to make such a remark, but when in a recent episode of his PBS show Mexico: One Plate at a Time, chef Rick Bayless commented that Mexican food may be the first “fusion cuisine” in the Americas, the concept resonated with me. The collision of cultures and culinary traditions that resulted from the European conquest of the Americas had as profound and delicious consequences for its Spanish, French and English protagonists as it had on the diets of its unwilling Native American and African antagonists. Indeed, and here I understand that I’m on sensitive ground, in cultural terms one might venture that one of the few short term benefits, that became a long term legacy, of this brutal period was the fabulous variety of new dishes that resulted from this coming together of New World, European and African ingredients and techniques.

Anthropologists and historians generally agree that apart from Brazil, the islands of the Caribbean are the most “Africanized” countries of the Americas because the extraordinarily harsh conditions, and consequential high slave mortality rate, in these places required that the plantation’s human capital be almost constantly replaced, continually refreshing African traditions. This sad history has allowed for the persistence of several West African cultural traditions, in syncretic religions like Haitian voodoo and Brazilian candomblé, as well as a variety of typical dishes, in the New World. Chief among the latter of these is the filling cassava mush known throughout much of Central and Western sub-Saharan Africa as fufu.

Most commonly served with a tomato or peanut based soup – which is sometimes garnished with seafood – fufu (fufuo, foufou, fougou) is believed to have originated in Twi-speaking regions of modern-day Ghana where the word foufouep (p is silent) means white and refers to the color of the cassava flour used in its preparation. When cooked with hot water and stirred to a similarly thick consistency as polenta or grits, and served on the side of a bowl of soup (or on a central platter), the diner takes a pinch of fufu, rolls it into an olive sized ball, makes an indentation with their thumb and uses it as an edible spoon for the soup.

The traditional shrimp and grits of the American South is, among many other variants, a direct descendant of fufu, where the American staple cornmeal has replaced cassava. In modern-day Cuba, one of the most traditional Afro-Cuban dishes, fufu de platano, has an even more direct bloodline to its African forebear in its use of that other West African starch, the green plantain.

Very similar to Cuban fufu is the joyously monikered mofongo of Puerto Rico – a dish that is so unbelievably delicious that it is even more fun to eat than it is to pronounce. Whereas fufu is often just mashed boiled plantains, mofongo (sometimes mofongu) is fried plantains that are then doused in a heavily-garlicked olive oil sauce while being pounded in a mortar. The mofongo is often then mixed with chopped up chicharrones (deep-fried pork belly cracklins), and shaped into a mound, before being dressed in an intensely savory tomato and shrimp-stock based gravy and garnished with sauted or fried shrimp.

More or less understood to be one of, if not the, national dishes of Puerto Rico, mofongo represents the creole (criolla) culture of that island in a truly unique way. The exotic tropical plantains native to Africa blending seamlessly with Caribbean-influenced sofrito used in the sauce and the typically Iberic flavors of olive oil and garlic into a colorful feast for the senses.

And a feast dish mofongo truly is. A Puerto Rican festival is said to be incomplete without mofongo, and this on an island where the perennial feast-time favorite, the long slow roasted pork dish called pernil is accompanied by both rice and beans and tostones. The competition in terms of delicious flavors being nothing short of extreme on that blessed island. Of course, we tend to wax lyrical about all the food we make here on WANF, but I want to stress that you have no idea just how amazing mofongo is, you just have to trust us and try it. It’s so rich, so intensely flavored, so texturally intriguing, and so quite unlike anything you’re likely to have eaten before. It’s a stunning combination that is as easy on the soul as it is invigorating for the intellect.

We first ate mofongo at one of a pair of fascinating restaurants in our Brooklyn neighborhood that have been serving the flavors of home to the area’s Caribbean population for more than 40 years. El Viejo Yayo (and El Viejo Yayo II) (meaning, roughly, the old man, or the grandfather), are the kinds of places – bright, harsh lighting, giant portions, patronized mostly by Latinos – that are a dying breed in our gentrified nabe, but can be relied upon for traditional island cuisine for these exact reasons. El Viejo Yayo serves a variety of mofongos, some as mains, others (almost unimaginably given their size) as side dishes, some with seafood, others with pork, and no matter how hard we try, it’s nearly impossible not to get one, in spite of the other wonderful offerings on their menu, including an outstanding soupy rice with seafood. [A propos of nothing, it's always interested me that they also make a mean brandy alexander, just one of many retro cocktails that they, unlike trendier places, never stopped making.] Under the bright strip lights, perspiring gently as pork and carbohydrates flood our system, we’ll often look around at our fellow diners – elbows on tables, giant plates or bowls in front of them, talking loudly and energetically gesticulating – and remark how lucky we are to have all this delicious diversity on our doorstep.

It sounds rather trite to conclude any piece about food in this way, but out of the myriad sadnesses of a shameful past shrouded in human misery, suffering and squalor, has risen, in mofongo (amongst the New World’s many great dishes), a gastronomic legacy that is truly a cultural phenomenon to celebrate and be proud of. And, perhaps, therein lies one of enduring maxims of great national dishes, that they speak simultaneously of what is ugly and painful as well as beautiful and serene about a country’s character, while reflecting the shared joy and peace to be found in the simple pleasures of the table.

And it was because of this humbling reminder of mortality that we were unable to visit a very tempting restaurant that lay just across Calle de Campomanes from our hotel (the curiously-titled Roommate Mario) in the Opera district of the city. Every day for a week, we walked (or, as our stay progressed, waddled) past this restaurant (it didn’t appear to have a name), re-reading and salivating at the names of dishes advertised on the sunshades overhanging the windows: paella marinera, paella bogavante, arroz al horno, paella valenciana, arroz atianda, and arroz negro.

At the time, we convinced ourselves that this was no big deal since we were in Madrid to eat Madrileño food, not rice dishes from the Levante (eastern Spain, around Valencia/Murcia, so-called because that’s where the sun rises), and certainly not in the chilly depths of winter when rib-sticking dishes like cocido madrileño and callos a la madrileño were the order of the day. Of course, we flagrantly disobeyed this rule on a couple of occasions (see our previous posts on Canarian papas arrugadas and Galician arroz marinero), and during our current lengthy bout of winter-induced, home-bound funk, we found ourselves, in our related regret-filled nostalgia, wishing that we’d made one more exception.

So, to appease these feelings, what we were unable or unwilling to eat in Madrid, we decided to make ourselves right here in Brooklyn. A couple of sachets of cuttlefish ink, some D.O. Calasparra rice, and a little help from Penelope Casas’ The Foods and Wines of Spain resulted in a quite magnificent traditional Murcian arroz negro.

Do not be confused about it, the rice is, and should always be, the star of the dish. Do not be tempted to listen to the voices in your head telling you to add more seafood: this is not a black paella (though traditional Valencian paellas contain no seafood). Rice, in this case, is not just a starchy canvas on which the more tasty and colorful protein displays itself, as it is commonly thought of in the American and British mind. Use only the amount specified below, otherwise you risk distracting your tastebuds from the point that is the extraordinary manner in which the squid (or cuttlefish) ink, together with pimenton, saffron and a hint of garlic, delicately perfumes the rice. A crisp white wine (as called for in the recipe) or a dry rose would make a perfect match.

Our good friend Nuría of Spanish Recipes Pic by Pic made what is, by any measure, a superior arroz negro on her third attempt. Having been unable (at least for now) to find squid or cuttlefish complete with their ink sacs, we’re not optimistic that we’ll be able to mimic the wonderful inky blackness of Nuría’s dish, but next time we try, I think we’ll add an extra packet of dry ink to see if we can get closer to that beautiful color.
Arroz Negro Murciano (Murcian-style Black Rice) with Garlic Sauce
(adapted from Penelope Casas’ The Foods & Wines of Spain)

Ingredients

• 500 grams Calasparra, Valenciana, or Bomba rice (only use Italian arborio or carnaroli, if you are absolutely desperate)
• 2 pounds octopus (with tentacles)(ab0ut 8 squid), sliced (if you find them with their ink sacs you’re very lucky, and use these in place of packets listed below)
• 1/2 pound small shrimp/prawns, shelled and chopped into pieces
• 1 large onion, chopped roughly
• 1 medium tomato, roughly chopped
• 1/2 medium green pepper (capsicum), chopped
• 1/2 jar piquillo peppers, julienned
• 8 cloves garlic, finely chopped
• 2 small, dry chorizos, cut into 1/2 inch cubes
• 2 packets squid or cuttlefish ink (nero di calamari/seppia)
• 1 pinch saffron threads
• 1/4 cup dry white wine
• 3 tsp pimentón dulce (sweet paprika)
• 4tbsp finely chopped flat-leaf parsley
• 3 3/4 cups (1.5ish liters) fish broth or clam juice (make 4 cups in case you need a little extra)
• 3 tbsp olive oil

For garlic sauce:

• 3 cloves garlic, crushed
• 1/2 cup olive oil

Recipe

1. Preheat oven to 325F (160Cish)
2. Clean the squid, cutting bodies into rings and chopping up tentacles.
3. In a wide 2-3inch deep casserole dish (preferably earthenware), or paella (pan), heat oil and saute onion and green pepper until both are wilted.
4. Add squid rings and tentacles and saute for around five minutes before adding chorizo, garlic, tomato, parsley, salt, pepper, saffron, and pimentón. Cover and simmer gently for around 30 minutes.
5. Meanwhile, follow directions on packets for reconstituting the squid/cuttlefish ink, and pass black liquid through a sieve to remove impurities. Mix ink with wine.
6. After 30 minutes, stir in rice and when well combined, add broth (boiling hot) and stir in ink/wine and toss in shrimp.
7. Bring to a boil and stir occasionally until rice is no longer soupy, about 10 minutes. Decorate with pimento strips and put dish in oven and bake uncovered for around 15 minutes until all remaining liquid is absorbed.
8. Remove from oven and cover tightly and allow to sit for 10 minutes.
9. While rice is resting, add garlic in a food processor or blender, and with motor running gradually pour in olive oil until well combined and golden.
10. Place dish in the middle of the table and encourage diners to stake their claim. Serve garlic sauce on the side.

Perhaps the most common, and implicitly, therefore the most popular, tapa in Spain and in Spanish restaurants world-wide, gambas al ajillo, or fried garlic shrimp, is rightfully so admired. The hot tang of garlic and red pepper flake-infused extra virgin olive oil, perfectly coating tender pink shrimp (king prawns for our UK readers), makes for a luscious and satisying dish, especially when there’s plenty of crusty bread to mop up the magnificently flavorful oil.

The other great thing about this dish is that it’s pretty cheap and incredibly simple to make. Accompanied by a green salad and washed down with a chilled glass of fino or amontillado sherry, or perhaps a flute of cava, this is a great tapa/racione or a light lunch, both in late summer and through the fall. Buen provecho!

Ingredients:

• 1 1/2 lb medium shrimp (about 20 medium-sized shrimp), shells removed
• About 1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil
• 3/4 head of garlic, each clove finely sliced
• 1 tsp (or more if you like it hot) red pepper flakes
• 3 tablespoons white wine

Recipe:

• Heat a pan to low-medium and throw in your thinly sliced garlic and red pepper flakes.
• Allow the garlic to infuse the oil for about 20-25 minutes by keeping it on low to low-medium heat. You do not want it to sound as though it is cooking the garlic quickly. It should not take on color immediately. This will really flavor your olive oil.
• After about 20 minutes, heat another pan up until it is very hot. Throw a few tablespoons of the garlic-infused oil into the hot pan and then throw in your shrimp.
• Immediately after, pour in a bit of white wine and allow to cook down about a minute. Continue to toss the shrimp so they begin to cook on both sides.
• Add the rest of your garlic oil and cook for another minute or two until shrimp are pink and cooked all the way.
• Serve immediately with lots of good bread.

Note: This dish is actually not authentically made, but I’ve played around with this dish a few times and I love the way garlic can really infuse oil – to me it gives a much stronger garlic flavor to the dish – if cooked more slowly. Traditionally, this dish is made in a cazuela (shallow clay ramekin) either on the stovetop or in a crazy hot oven. If you own a cazuela or similar type of vessel, heat it until it’s screaming hot and then toss everything in at once. You’ll probably only need to cook for about a minute (the garlic should be pretty dark and crispy) before it’s ready to serve.

Check out some other posts you might enjoy:

• Jamon, Jamon, Jamon, Jamon
• Unusual Tapas We Ate, or Madrileno Specialties
• Tame Tapas We Ate in Madrid/Tortilla Espanola Recipe
• Vermut (Vermouth): Rediscovering an Old Classic
• Following “La Seleccion” with a Selection of Pinchos/Tapas

A few months ago I was contacted by a representative of a site called cajungrocer.com. He offered to send us some Cajun treats if we would do a bit of a write-up on their products. Well, what else could I say but “Hell YEAH!”. We had our choice to sample crayfish, turducken or boudin. It wasn’t crayfish season so we mutually decided that wasn’t a good idea and the idea of “roadtesting” a turducken (which I honestly still don’t understand the purpose of… sorry if you’re a fan) skeeved me out and boudin is right up our alley so we settled on sampling that.

I was hoping to have this review done much earlier than now but when I explain to you why it took almost 2 months to taste-test, you’ll probably understand why. A week after giving the “hell YEAH” go-ahead to the cajungrocer.com rep I received a knock at the door – it was a UPS man holding a large styrofoam cooler. Not a ‘holds a six pack’ size cooler, but a giant one. As ripped the protective tape off and lifted the cooler’s lid, my heart leaped and my stomach grumbled. Inside was not one, not two, NOT THREE but FIVE different types of boudin (not to mention a crawfish appetizer we have yet to try!). So I hope now you can understand why we needed to wait until now to write this product review. Too many snausages, too little time.

Now, it is important to give you some background and history on Cajun Boudin – not to be confused with the French version you may have tasted before. Both are technically a version of boudin blanc (or white sausage), but the French version is often made with a combo of pork (or chicken or veal) and pork/chicken/veal bit’s (ie: liver and heart) along with milk, cognac and spices, thus making it a bit softer and more delicate to handle. After the French Acadians were forced by the British to leave Nova Scotia in 1755, they headed south and ended up making their homes in the various bayous and back-country of Louisiana, specifically in the area which is now called Acadiana or Cajun Country. Cajun boudin is obviously related to the French version but the recipe changed a bit to represent what was available and plentiful in their new land – pork and those lovely hog bits, cayenne pepper and rice – all stuffed into the hog’s intestines. These Cajun boudin recipes have been passed down from generation to generation since and they are not all created equally.

The center of Cajun Country in Acadiana is the town of Lafayette (see map below) and, supposedly, if you go there, you’ll see plenty of signs pointing you to the many, many places that sell boudin. It could be a restaurant, a guy on the side of the road or a place near a gas station but they are everywhere. And, according to my intense research, locals could give two flying pigs less if they are eating their boudin from a guy in a gas station or off some fine china at a nice restaurant – if it’s good, they’ll eat it. And again, according to research, the Cajuns call a Dr. Pepper and a link of boudin a Cajun Breakfast. Nothing screams healthy breakfast like a visit from the “Doctor” in the morning!
View Larger Map

Although we were sent alligator, shrimp and crawfish boudin from cajungrocer.com, I discovered that these are newer concoctions and are not traditional. Purists aren’t turned on by these “newfangled uppity” types but I must say – they were fabulously delicious and tasted exactly like you’d think. Traditionally there are a few things to consider when eating a Cajun Pork Boudin:

1. Do you like it wet or dry?
2. Do you like it spicy or mild?
3. How about chunky insides or mashed?
4. Do you like it with liver or without?
5. Do you want more meat or more rice?

The thing is, you can think about these questions while eating a boudin but you’re not going to be asked them by your boudin seller! There are various combos of all of these types depending on the family recipe. I think I’d like mine dry, spicy, chunky, with liver and more meat. You?

One interesting fact is that boudin is usually eaten as finger food and often thought of as a Cajuns version of fast food – eaten either by biting directly into the sausage or by squeezing the insides of the boudin right into your mouth. Grilling boudin is just starting to gain popularity in Cajun Country but usually it is stewed or braised. Besides being served with a Dr. Pepper in the morning, it is also often served with pork cracklins (fried pig skin), saltine crackers, hot sauce and beer – this sounds like my type of meal. Boudin can be put between two slices of white bread for a sandwich, in an omelette or made into boudin balls (deep fried boudin). We decided to eat the pork boudin grilled with some spicy mustard and the alligator boudin over yellow hominy and lentils and paired it with a sweet and spicy tomato sauce.

Even though we were in Brooklyn, I thought the boudin that cajungrocer.com sent to us was fabulous – full of flavor and perfectly spiced. Eating the Cajun boudin made me wish that I could experience not just the food of Louisiana, but the culture surrounding the food. Luckily, we still have a huge pork boudin with pork cracklin’ left to eat and, when we do, I’ll be throwing on some Satchmo, drinking some cold Abita (if I can find some) or a Dr. Pepper and dreaming I was in Lafayette. In fact, if you are every heading to Lafayette, Louisiana, check out boudinlink.com for reviews and an interactive map to find some of the best boudin around.

Thank you, again, cajungrocer.com – we highly, highly recommend your services and your delicious, authentic products.

Check out some other posts you may enjoy:

• Pork Roll and Scrapple – The Dirty Culinary Pride of South Jersey/Philly
• Fabada: A Mortal and Corporal Sin – But Worth It!
• In Defence of Sandwiches (White House Subs, Atlantic City)
• SANDWICH DE MERGUEZ (BAGUETTE FILLED WITH MERGUEZ SAUSAGE, FRENCH FRIES AND FRIED LEEKS)
• MORCILLA (SPANISH SAUSAGE) STUFFED GRILLED SQUID WITH A SPICY SAUCE

Now, I know it’s been two weeks plus since Christmas, but I wanted to share our final two recipes with you. I know you all think I was slightly crazy to attempt all this food, and you are all right, I am! BUT, with that said, every single thing we made you can make too. Although we made homemade pasta (thanks to our amazing Kitchen Aid pasta attachment!), you can totally substitute dried and it will be equally delish. The secret is in the spicy sauce – we like it really spicy and extra garlic-y. You can adjust our recipe, but remember, it’s not fra’diavolo without the spice! I always use Lidia Bastianich’s recipe for pasta. It’s absolutely bang-on every time. Also, this recipe will work well with any type of seafood – calamari, scallops, shrimp-only, crab-only, lobster, clams or all of the above – use your imagination!

FETTUCCINE FRA’DIAVOLO WITH CRAB AND SHRIMP (Fettuccine w/Spicy Tomato Sauce) – serves 4 to 6

Ingredients:

• 1 1/2 to 2 lbs. of fresh or dried long pasta
• 3 1/2 cups of Amy’s Tomato Sauce
• 1/2 to 1 tablespoon peperoncino (hot pepper flakes)
• 1 8oz. package of fresh crab meat (NOT IMITATION – REAL ONLY)
• 2-3 fresh crabs (we used Blue-Claw) – cleaned and split in half
• 1 lb. medium to large shrimp – shells removed
• 1/2 cup white wine
• minced parsley for garnish

What to do:

1. Before you make the sauce, give your crabs some color if they have not been cooked yet by heating up your olive oil and adding the crabs for a few moments till they turn a bit red. This may be completely unnecessary, but I did it anyway.
2. Remove the crabs and reserve on the side. Begin to make your tomato sauce. When you get to the third step of the recipe (at the same time you add your crushed tomatoes), add the wine as well as the crabs back to the pot. Allow this to simmer together for an hour. It will reduce a bit and the flavors will get much stronger.
3. About 15 minutes before you are ready to serve, add the loose, fresh crabmeat to the sauce and stir.
4. 5 minutes before you serve, add the shrimp to the sauce.
5. Toss some of your sauce with your cooked pasta and plate adding some extra shrimp on top if necessary. Top with a half of crab, some parsley and a bit of extra virgin olive oil.

CHECK OUT SOME OTHER POSTS YOU MAY ENJOY:

• PASTA (PERCIATELLI/BUCATINI OR SPAGHETTI) AL’AMATRICIANA (ROMAN CLASSIC PASTA DISH)
• PASTA WITH LEEKS, ASPARAGUS, MUSHROOMS AND GRUYERE, TOPPED WITH A FRIED EGG
• PASTA (BUCATINI) WITH PISTACHIO SAUCE
• PASTA WITH TUNA (Pasta Con Tonno)
• Striking Over Pasta?
• In Defence of Sandwiches (White House Subs, Atlantic City)
• Pigs Must Dream of Ending Up Here

Anywho’s, we may not have had 7 Fishes this Christmas Eve, but we did 5 fishes and did two of the 2 different ways. In my mind, that’s like doing seven, right? I now bring to you our first fish course – Fritto Misto di Mare (Mixed Fried Seafood). It was absolutely delicious, but pacing the cooking correctly was a bit frustrating. I would advise have 3-4 pots of scalding hot oil going at the same time as to hasten the cooking time – especially if you are going to be cooking for 10 or more people at the same time. Remember to separate all the seafood from the vegetables if you are doing both. The oil can often take on the fish taste and you don’t want your crunchy asparagus tasting like smelts – or do you? Whatever floats your boat! I highly recommend making this for a group of friends – it’s fun, bite-sized and delicious. We served ours with a homemade Roasted Garlic Lemon Aioli as a dipping sauce. It is lighter than you think, even though it’s all fried! Come on, the Italians are not the ones with a nationwide obesity epidemic!

The recipe below fed 11 people as a starter, albeit a pretty good-sized starter. You can add/take away stuff as you’d like.

FRITTO MISTO DI MARE WITH ROASTED GARLIC LEMON AIOLI (Fried Mixed Seafood with Fried Mixed Veggies)

Ingredients:

• 1/2 lb shrimp
• 1/2 lb. squid (bodies and tentacles), cut into rings
• 1 fillet of whitefish (sole, flounder, etc.), cut into 1 inch pieces
• 6 large smelts (heads removed), cut into 1 inch pieces and soaked in milk for 1 hour prior to frying (takes some of the fishy smell away) OR whole sardines
• 1/4 head of cauliflower, blanched, sliced into bite-sized pieces
• 8 asparagus stalks, woody bottom removed, blanched and the rest cut into 1 inch pieces
• 6-8 large button mushrooms, quartered
• 1 whole zucchini, sliced in 1/4-inch rounds
• 1 small eggplant, sliced in 1/4-inch rounds
• Peanut Oil for frying (has a high smoke point and burns less easily – traditionally this should be fried in olive oil)
• (Optional but preferred) Cast Iron Skillet for frying
• paper towels or brown paper bag for draining
• Kosher Salt
• Lemon Wedges

For the Fritto Misto Batter:

• 1/2 cup white flour
• 1 tablespoon cornstarch + 1/4 cup cornstarch
• 1/2 teaspoon salt (seasalt or kosher salt preferably)
• soda water or sparkling water

For the Roasted Garlic Lemon Aioli

• 1/2 head garlic oven-roasted in foil
• 1 tablespoon dijon mustard
• 1 tablespoon horseradish
• juice from 1 fresh lemon
• 2 egg yolks
• extra virgin olive oil
• salt
• sugar

What to do:

1. Make your Lemon Garlic Aioli as early as 1 or 2 days ahead. Roast garlic in a 350 degree oven for about 30 minutes. Allow to cool. In a glass mixing bowl, add your roasted garlic (squeeze it out of the skin), 1 tablespoon dijon mustard, 1 tablespoon horseradish, 2 egg yolks, pinch of salt and the juice of 1 lemon. Mix with a whisk. After that is mixed up, slowly add olive oil and continue to whisk feverishly until it starts to get thick. Eventually you’ll have added enough oil to make a mayonnaise. Taste and add some more salt if you would like and add about 1/2 teaspoon of sugar. Always taste to make sure the seasonings are to your liking!
2. Make sure you prep your hard veggies (asparagus and cauliflower) by boiling them for 1 to 2 minutes and shocking them in an ice water bath to stop the cooking.
3. Make your batter by combining all your dry ingredients first, mixing and then adding enough sparkling water for it to be slightly thin. You want it to coat your veggies and fish, but you do not want it so thick that it resembles spackle. Make it like a thin pancake batter. Add more flour if you mess up. Let it sit for 15 to 20 minutes.
4. After all your veggies are prepped, pour enough peanut oil into your skillets or pots (you should have one for frying veggies and one for frying the seafood) to almost cover your ingredients – about 2 1/2 to 3 inches deep. Whack your heat up to high. When you stick the end of a wooden spoon in and there are bubbles all around it, your oil is probably ready.
5. Start with your blanched asparagus. Put pieces in the batter and allow some of the batter to drip off before placing each piece in the oil. Do this with each piece and allow to fry until golden brown. After all the asparagus is done, remove from oil using a slotted spoon and allow it drain on some paper towels and immediately sprinkle with a good amount of kosher salt. Next, do your cauliflower, then mushroom quarters, etc. till you have fried all of your veggies.
6. Repeat with all your fish. The ONLY exception to the “cook till golden brown” rule should be for the squid/calamari. They really should not be cooked more than 2 minutes or else they’ll be chewy. Allow them all to drain on paper towels and sprinkle with kosher salt as well.
7. Serve mixed up on a big platter with your lemon/garlic aioli in a serving dish on the side. Serve with lemon wedges and some nice wine!

CHECK OUT THESE OTHER RECIPES YOU MAY ENJOY:

• PASTA (BUCATINI) WITH PISTACHIO SAUCE
• PASTA WITH TUNA (Pasta Con Tonno)
• PERFECT BROCCOLI DI RAPE WITH SWEET SAUSAGE
• LIDIA’S LAMB CHOPS (Lamb Chops with A Mustard Anchovy Sauce)
• Pigs Must Dream of Ending Up Here
• Remaking a Tuscan Restaurant Meal (From Florence)
  
• San Gennaro Festival, Little Italy, NYC – A Letdown (Boy’s Version)

This rich and hearty meal would brighten up any seafood lover’s cold, dark day. Although it’s not winter, I hope to make this again on a cold night. It was so satisfying without weighing me down. When researching I found that, according to tradition, this soup should contain at least 5 different types of fish – as many as the number of “C’s” in it’s name (love those Italians!). Also, a Livornese Fish Stew utilizes whatever the fish monger has to offer and is in season. Any shellfish (mussles, clams, shrimp etc.), white fish (monkfish, dogfish, halibut, bass, catfish, sole, etc.) plus some squid and octopus. Don’t forget the spice – this stew should have a spicy bite to it. Pair it with a crunchy piece of bread and you’ve got a meal in a bowl. Again, traditionally, you are supposed to toast white bread, rub it with garlic and then lay it in the bottom of your soup/stew bowl. Instead, I added a few pieces of white bread to thicken the stew (sort of like we did when we recreated the Pappa al Pomodoro a few weeks ago).

Once you’ve bought all the fish, the actual prep work is easy and quick. The only thing I would try and prep early is the octopus. Freezing the octopus actually helps tenderize it, so if you buy it fresh and thawed, ask if it has been frozen previously and, if not, freeze it then thaw it again. Once this happens, you want to boil the octopus for an hour and 15 minutes in water with a dash of white vinegar in it. This will further tenderize it. Also, we bought canned whole clams for this and they tasted wonderful (although fresh is always better!). Give it a shot, it’s so worth it!

LIVORNESE FISH STEW (IL CACCIUCCO ALLA LIVORNESE) – Serves 4

Ingredients

• 1 whole, cooked octopus, head removed, tentacles cut into 1 1/2 to 2 inch pieces
• 1/2 pound large shrimp
• 1/2 pound squid – body cut into rings and tentacles cut into 1 1/2 to 2 inch pieces
• 1 pound white fish (halibut, mullet, monkfish, dogfish, etc.), cut into 2 inch pieces
• 1 pound fresh clams or one can of whole clams
• 1 pound mussles (OPTIONAL)
• 1 onion, finely diced
• 2 cloves garlic, finely dice
• 1 clove garlic, smashed
• 1 carrot, finely diced
• 1 celery stalk, finely diced
• 2 red chiles, chopped w/ seeds and ribs
• 2 cups fish broth
• 1 cup white wine
• 1 1/2 cans of crushed tomatoes (28 oz.)
• 5 thin slices of stale white bread (OPTIONAL)
• olive oil
• chopped parsley

What to do

1. Heat the olive oil and saute the carrot, onion and celery until golden and soft. Add the finely chopped garlic and the red pepper and saute for a minute or two.
2. Add your wine and reduce till almost completely absorbed.
3. Add your squid and octopus pieces and saute for one to two minutes.
4. Add the tomatoes, season with salt and pepper and stir.
5. Add the hot fish broth, stir and let your stew simmer for 20 minutes.
6. Lower the heat and add in your stale bread. Push the bread down below the surface of the sauce. Let absorb in the stew for a minute then stir.
7. Increase heat to medium again and add your shrimp, white fish and clams (plus whatever other fish you want to include).
8. After shrimp looks cooked you are done! Test for seasoning and plate up!
9. Sprinkle some chopped parsley and a little bit of extra virgin olive oil on top. Grill a thick piece of bread for the side… Enjoy!

CHECK OUT SOME OTHER POSTS YOU MAY ENJOY:

• SWEET ANISE-FLAVORED SALMON IN A POUCH (SALMON EN PAPILLOTE)
• FETTUCCINE FRA’DIAVOLO WITH CRAB AND SHRIMP
• FRITO MISTO DI MARE (FRIED MIXED SEAFOOD AND VEGGIES)
• Gimme What the Guy On the Floor’s Having
• In Vino Veritas (The Wine in Italy)
• CREAMY LEMON PASTA
• PASTA (PERCIATELLI/BUCATINI OR SPAGHETTI) AL’AMATRICIANA (ROMAN CLASSIC PASTA DISH)
• PASTA WITH LEEKS, ASPARAGUS, MUSHROOMS AND GRUYERE, TOPPED WITH A FRIED EGG
• Among the Bean Eaters (The Diet in Tuscany, Italy)
• Pigs Must Dream of Ending Up Here
• European Roast…? (Why Coffee Taste Better There)

The point of bringing this up, though, was not to provoke an outpouring of pity from you, as I’m sure many of you also work in dreadful places, confined all day to a cubicle, on a squeaky chair with no access to even the most inoffensive websites, but rather to explain why, when I return to my desk from the kitchen with my lunch everyday, I have to walk past everyone else.

As I stroll past these folk, happy that I shall soon be enjoying a hot, delicious meal, they often stare mournfully at me, sniffing the air like tom-cats in heat, before gazing pitifully upon the damp and insipid sandwich they just paid $8 for. Sometimes, they will inquire what it is I am carrying because it smells so good. At other times, they’ll half-stand-up to peer at my plate. I feel their envy, and yes, it feels good.

Because, apart from having had the patience and, to a small degree, the imagination and skill to make an interesting and delicious meal for myself the night before, and boxing up the left-overs to bring in, I did nothing that they could not. And it is this, I am sure , that irks them most.

This week, it was grilled coconut milk and chilli marinated shrimp (a recipe riffing off one found in Steven Raichlen’s BBQ University cookbook for Brazilian-style shrimp skewers) and roasted vegetable rice. This dish is more expensive to make than the last “At the Desk Gourmet” because of the 2lbs of shrimp, but for a total ingredient purchase price of $41.36, we fed seven adults and had enough rice leftover for two other meals. And, at a shade under $6/head, even if my colleagues weren’t eying my lunch jealously, it would still be good value to me!

Here’s how to do it:

Ingredients:
2lbs of 26-32 shrimp, shells on, but split down the back
1 can coconut milk
2 medium-sized red cayenne peppers, finely chopped
5 cloves garlic, crushed
8 tbsp fresh cilantro leaves/storks, roughly chopped
Juice of 3 limes
1/2lb long grain white rice
1 cube chicken bouillon dissolved in 1.5 pints boiled water
1 large onion, halved, grilled, then sliced
2 large bell peppers, roasted whole, then sliced
4 medium round tomatoes, roasted whole, skinned, then sliced
2 green/spring onions, finely chopped
2 tsp salt
1 tsp freshly ground black pepper
1 package of wooden/bamboo skewers

Recipe:
Put shrimp, 3 cloves of crushed garlic, chopped cayenne peppers, 4 tbsp of the chopped cilantro, half the lime juice and the whole can of coconut milk in a large, non-reactive bowl to marinate for at least an hour, but no more than three hours.
In the meantime, soak your bamboo/wooden in water. I often use a vase for this.

Then, saute the remaining two cloves of garlic in a tablespoon of olive oil until tender before adding the rice. Saute rice until it begins to color, but only a little, before pouring in enough hot chicken stock to cover the rice by about an inch and half. Cover and bring to a boil. Set timer for ten minutes.

Put the tomatoes, bell peppers and halved onion on a hot grill. Keep turning tomatoes and peppers on grill until blistered all over. Onion will take longer to cook all the way through.

Place tomatoes and peppers in paper bag and let sit for 10 minutes, then remove the skins, and chop into whatever sized chunks/strips you like best.

When oven timer beeps, turn down flame under rice to low and set timer for another ten minutes.

Thread shrimp on the skewers and pre-heat grill to med-high.

When oven timer beeps again, switch off flame, but do not look at the rice. Keep covered for a further ten minutes.

Grill shrimp until deliciously pink and firm.

Stir in roasted vegetables, scallions and the remaining cilantro into the rice, and squeeze in the rest of the lime juice.

If you have it, and if not, you should seek it out, Jamaican Choice Papaya Hot Sauce is the perfect condiment for this dish. Otherwise, any fruit-based spicy salsa or sauce would work well. Enjoy!