Along with my recent trip, my week’s routines have been a bit disrupted by needing to drive a family member to rehearsals in the evening a few times a week. (Good night vision plus confidence in highway driving has led to my deputization for this purpose.)
I have done a bit of cooking in the interim, but it’s been a bit more sporadic and spontaneous. I think my favorite dish recently were some lamb shanks that I roasted first over a rack, then braised with some wine and broth and some root vegetables (rutabaga, celeriac and potato). I used the fat drippings from the shanks to quickly fry some pearl couscous and mashed the root vegetables with a bit of the braising liquid. Root vegetables on the bottom, couscous in the middle, lamb shank around the edge, harissa on that.
I also did a New York Times version of pork tenderloin char siu that used ketchup and hoisin as the main components of the marinade and then served that over wild rice with fresh vegetables on the side and the marinade as a sauce for the pork. I must seem a bit like a char siu obsessive in this column, since I make a version of it roughly every three weeks or so. I’m at that stage where I’m really looking to understand the differences between variant forms of a dish that I’m quite taken with, with the end goal of being able to spontaneously make it with what I have on hand. I made this version with pork tenderloin, and that alone makes a huge difference, because it can’t be in the oven too long and thus doesn’t get the texture and flavor that a long-roasted or slow-grilled pork shoulder takes (and also doesn’t need the very lengthy marination). I am partial to the pork shoulder version, but for a quick and tender variant, this worked pretty well. The use of a substantial amount of ketchup seems like a pretty good shortcut for the more complicated marinades, but I do think that the red fermented bean curd that’s common in most versions adds a lot in color and flavor. Good-quality ketchup—or even basic Heinz—is a pretty good food hack in general.
I also made some sliders with three different ground meats—one was lamb with za’atar, cilantro, mint and hot paprika; one was beef with chipotle, chili powder and lime zest; one was venison with mushrooms and a bit of mustard. The venison was too gamey and umami-ish but the others worked fine along with a frisee salad.
I’m also hot to try something I saw on this season of “Top Chef” (specifically in the Last Chance Kitchen part) where one contestant used spring roll wrappers as a kind of “pizza” base. Turns out that’s a Vietnamese idea, so I’m reading up on a few recipes to get a sense of the technique. Hopefully I will report back on that next week.
Speaking of the New York Times, I was apparently part of a legion of readers who had a beef to pick with Julia Moskin’s “Five Big Kitchen Myths” column on April 8th. I’m generally wary of this entire framing device in journalism—you should only be claiming to debunk a myth when there is enormous certainty that you are right and the idea stated as a myth is wrong, where the myth is consequential and where the difference between true and untrue is substantive, not semantic. Go ahead and debunk if the myth is “we only use 10% of our brains” or “sugar makes kids hyper”, neither of which is at all true. Even then, it’s worth thinking very carefully about why people are strongly attached to the myth—the “sugar = hyper kids” is a great example of how these kinds of stories are often based on accurate observations that get pinned to a compressed, simple explanation. (E.g., kids get stimulated at events that happen to feature sugary foods.)
Do not go ahead and debunk something as “a myth” if it turns out that what you really mean is “it’s more complicated than that”.
For example, Moskin says “ok, pasta water shouldn’t be as salty as seawater” and then cooks pasta in water that is actually as salty as seawater and says “no, don’t do that”, which is kind of “hello, it’s a metaphor, no cookbook that says ‘as salty as seawater’ is using a precise standard of ocean salinity for that suggestion”. She’s gone on to say “Italians don’t really eat pasta that’s al dente to the extent that cookbooks suggest”, which again, yes, it turns out that this is because Italian pasta often cooks a bit more in a sauce after cooking in water, but it’s also that Italians have a range of preferences for doneness. Yes, indeed, just like Americans. The rule really is “let it cook to your preference”, which maybe is important for the kind of cook who says “Oh my god, I must do it precisely as all Italians do”, which is someone who has a bigger myth problem than pasta doneness, since there is no country on the planet where everybody has no variation in personal preferences for commonly eaten food.
Moskin says: go ahead and use soap on your cast iron pan! It’s a myth that you can’t! Only, read the entry and the truth is: well, actually, most of the time you don’t need soap on a cast iron pan. And most of the time you want to be careful to only use a few drops. And if you overdo the scrubbing and the soaping, you will in fact have to re-season the pan. Which, you know, is why most of us with cast iron pans say “don’t use soap”, to avoid that.
She says, “you don’t have to wash rice until it runs clear”. And then she admits, “it’s depends on what kind of rice you’re cooking”. It also depends on what you want to cook. If you’re cooking risotto, you want the starch in the broth and yes, it has starch. For many other dishes, you really don’t want it. It’s true that indica rice like basmati, it doesn’t make a big difference. But it’s another thing that isn’t straightforwardly a myth.
She says, “you don’t need to have all of your ingredients prepared before cooking”, and you don’t need the oil heated before cooking. Which again, if you read the rest of what she writes, is not simply a “myth”. The answer is really “it depends”. As it is for the next thing, which is browning meat for a lot of dishes before cooking further. Kitchen science long ago showed that “seal in the juices” is indeed nonsense, but browning does affect the end result because we like “the delicious cooked bits at the bottom of the pan”, aka, the fond. Even in stews and braises. So this is a case where there is a reason to do it, it’s just not the reason some home cooks think it is.
The real point of the column should be that over time, any home cook should be developing their own ideas about what works and doesn’t work—treat your kitchen as an experimental lab—and not internalizing various cookbook dictums as holy writ. But the opposite of internalizing exaggerations and metaphors is not “hey, no problem, there’s no reason for that rule of thumb whatsoever.”
Here’s another thing on my mind, in terms of rules of thumb and time-saving moves. When I’m shopping for produce, what vegetables can I buy in a sealed bag or container and what do I have to look over and put in a produce bag myself, piece by piece?
This is entirely personal—no myths!—but here’s my experience.
Russet potatoes
Be wary. A lot of times there’s a few almost-rotten potatoes in the mix.
Peeled whole garlic cloves.
Sometimes. Some brands are often almost spoiled when you buy them. (Christopher Ranch, for example; their peeled shallots are even worse.)
Snow peas
Kind of? But usually snow peas are in stir-fries and if they’ve got a lot of blemishes or are old, it’ll show and sometimes the ones in bags are like that.
Herbs
Sure. You can usually see if they’re old and most fresh herbs hold up pretty well after packaging.
Limes and lemons
Fuck no. Unless I’m in a real hurry. I have never bought a pre-bagged set of lemons or limes without finding that there’s two or three hiding that are a day or two away from developing that strong smelling mold (penicillum digitatum for those keeping score). Or in the case of limes, sometimes they’re horrible hard little things that are so far from being ripe and usable that you will have to wait two weeks before they’re ok. At which point some will promptly get mold.
Sweet and hot peppers
Always ok. I have never regretted buying peppers that are pre-bagged. They hold up well to it.
Mixed greens, salad greens
Requires close scrutiny. Pre-washed greens in tightly sealed bags are always on the edge of going slimy brown: you gotta look closely.
Onions
Yeah, mostly. I mean, onions are cheap, so I’m not all that annoyed by one or two rotten ones. Usually with a yellow or red onion, you can cut off areas that are badly bruised or going bad and still get something useful anyway.
Radishes
Mostly, but…Honestly, it’s not that much of a pain to grab a radish bunch and drop it in a produce bag. The ones in pre-sealed bags sometimes look like they’ve gone a few rounds.
Tomatoes.
Cherry and grape tomatoes, yeah. Plum tomatoes, yeah. Big tomatoes, no, especially not near the end of summer.
Cute little baby corn.
Aw, of course. Heck, it’s even decent in a can!
English peas that have been shelled.
Naturally! Not like you’d want to scoop them up and put them in a produce bag anyway, unless you like walking through a market full of smashed peas on the floor.
Mushrooms.
Pretty much fine most of the time. You can pretty well tell if pre-bagged mushrooms are about to turn into liquid goo.
Cabbage.
Shredded, I guess, but you’ll want to use it soon. Besides, a whole cabbage is a great storage solution in its own right. Takes a long time for a whole cabbage to go bad.
The rules-of-thumb for produce are very useful, Tim. Thanks!