Chef J. Looney

Now, I LOVE me some hot sour soup of the Chinese variety, but who knew that Thai hot sour is every bit as delicious, albeit in a more different way?! Not me, but I’m here to tell you, this is fantastic stuff! Spicy, savory, tart and delicious.

Tom Yum Gai
1 tablespoon sesame oil
1 white onion, diced
2 green onions, cut into 2″ lengths and sliced lengthwise
2 small tomatoes, cut into eighths
1/2 lb skinless chicken breasts, diced
1 1/2 cups button mushrooms, quartered
4 cups chicken stock
3 stalks lemongrass, cut the stalks diagonally 2-inch long, scored lightly
10 fresh kaffir lime leaves
2″ piece of ginger, peeled and sliced
3 tablespoons fish sauce
1 1/4 teaspoons thai chili garlic paste
5 bird’s eye chili peppers, sliced
1 cup fresh cilantro, roughly chopped
2 teaspoons sugar
juice from 5 limes

In a 5 quart stock pot, heat the sesame oil until rippling, then add the chicken, white onion and ginger. Sautee until chicken starts to brown and onions are translucent. Add the stock and remaining ingredients except the green onions and cilantro. Simmer for 10 minutes. Add green onions and cilantro, simmer another 2-3 minutes, then serve immediately.

And what would Thai food be without fried rice? This one turns out creamy and rich, almost like a risotto.

Khao Phat
3 tablespoons sesame oil
1 boneless skinless chicken breast, diced
1 small yellow onion, diced
3 cloves garlic, roughly chopped1 medium onion, sliced
2 eggs
4 cups cooked white or brown rice
1 tomato, rough chopped
1/2 cup basil, minced
2 green onions, diced
2 tablespoons soy sauce
1 tablepoon fish sauce
1 tablespoon sugar

In a large wok, heat the sesame oil until rippling. Add the chicken and onion, and cook until chicken begins to brown and onions are translucent. add the rice, and sautee for 2-3 minutes. add remaining ingredients except eggs, and continue to sautee and move the ingredients in the pan. Just before serving, crack the eggs into the rice mixture and let set for 1-2 minutes. Stir once more to incorporate the egg, then serve.

Kalbi (or Galbi) is the traditional Korean short rib barbecue. The trick to attaining maximum flavor is marinating the ribs over several days. I recommend marinating for no less than 3 and no more than 5 days. Serve with Kimchi and Pa Moochim (recipes follow)

Kalbi Marinade
1 1/2 cups soy sauce
3/4 cup white sugar
1/4 cup sesame oil
1 head of garlic, minced
1  white onion, chopped
3 large green onions, chopped
1/2 tsp red pepper flakes
5 lbs beef short-ribs

Mix soy sauce and sugar until sugar is dissolved. Add sesame oil and whisk vigorously until incorporated. mix in the remaining ingredients. Place the ribs in a large non-reactive container or ziploc bag, and cover with the marinade. Rotate the marinade and ribs every 12 hours to ensure uniform coverage.

Broiling: place ribs in oven with broiler set on high. Broil just  until edges are black and crispy, about 12-15 minutes.

grilling: place ribs over high heat, turning only once, about 2-3 mintes per side.

Kimchi
1 large Napa Cabbage
1 cup kosher salt
1 head of garlic, finely minced
one 2-inch piece of fresh ginger, peeled and minced
1/4 cup fish sauce
1/3 cup chili paste or 1/2 cup Korean chili powder
1 bunch green onions, cut into 1-inch lengths
1 tablespoon sugar

Slice the cabbage in half lengthwise, then finely slice it again, starting at the tip and moving towards the root. You should end up with thin strips of cabbage that resemble confetti streamers. Place the cabbage in the bowl and sprinkle generously with the kosher salt, mixing as you go to ensure proper coverage. Cover and let stand for 1 hour.

Mix all the other ingredients together in a separate bowl.

The cabbage will have released quite a bit of liquid. Drain the cabbage and squeeze it dry. Rinse under cold water, and repeat. Add the rest of the ingredients and mix thoroughly.

Cover, and let stand at room temperature for 2-3 days. Once it starts to get a little bubbly around the edges, you can refrigerate it.

Pa Moochim
2 bunches green onions, sliced lengthwise
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 tablespoons red pepper paste
1/2 tablespoon sesame oil
1/2 tablespoon rice wine vinegar

Mix garlic, red pepper paste, sesame oil and vinegar together in a large bowl to make the dressing. Toss green onions in dressing, serve immediately.

Baba Ganoush? Hummus? Tapenade? All three can be found widely throughout the Mediterranean and Middle East, and they vary pretty widely. The hallmark of all three of these is the same, though – good quality ingredients, simple preparation, and let the flavors speak for themselves. Not much spice or herb is used, as you’ll see, yet all three of these pack a whole lot of flavor.

Baba Ganoush
2 large eggplants, cut into slices about 1/2 inch thick
2-3 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 cup finely chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
2 tablespoons tahini

1/2 tablespoon coriander
Juice of 1 lemon

You can either oven roast the eggplant or cook it on the grill. If you’re oven roasting, brush both sides with a bit of olive oil and roast on a sheet tray for about 20 minutes at 350. If you’re grilling it, brush with olive oil and grill until it’s just starting to blacken around the edges.

once your eggplant is cooked, cut it into smaller pieces, about 2″ square, and throw it in the food processor along with the rest of the ingredients. Blend just until incorporated. add salt to taste.

Olive Tapenade
2 cups kalamata olives
1 cup green olives
2 tablespoon capers
1 tablespoon olive oil

Put everything in a food processor and blend until roughly incorporated.

Hummus
2 cans garbanzo beans
2-3 cloves of garlic (I use 4-5, but I really like garlic)
1/4 cup tahini paste
2-3 tablespoons olive oil

Put the garbanzo beans, garlic and tahini in a food processor. While the food processor is running, slowly drizzle in the olive oil until you reach the desired texture/creaminess.

I also add a squirt of lemon to mine, but Megan doesn’t approve of this. She adds a little chili powder to hers, which I like, but isn’t exactly authentic.

Serve all three of these with plenty of pita bread that has been brushed with olive oil, sprinkled with salt, and toasted in a sautee pan or on a flat-top grill.

 Moroccan food? What exactly IS that?!

Yeah, I thought the same thing, but it’s really full of unique and complex flavors that are worth checking out the next time you’re feeling adventurous.

Adventurous? Well, you gotta consider that Morocco has been on the trade routes for spices for thousands of years, and consequently, they’ve got a little bit of everything. This recipe here has flavors blended from several different spices, and that’s rather pedestrian by Moroccan standards. Still, if you’re looking to see what African cuisine is like, a tajine is a good place to start.

First off, the tajine is both the cooking vessel and whats cooked in it. That pic of the food? That’s what’s inside. This one right here? That’s what the pot looks like. The handle stays cool during cooking, so it’s easy to lift the lid and give it a stir every once in awhile. Typically, this earthenware vessel would be placed directly over a flame for the heat source, but you can buy one that’ll work right on your stove top. If you’re not interested in spending $40 bucks on a pot you’ll only use once in a great while, a good heavy-bottom deep skillet will work just as well.

Secondly, I decided that since this recipe calls for some spices that plenty of people may not be familiar with, I’ve included links to the wikipedia entry for each of the spices used, hope this helps you in your efforts to expand your culinary/world view.

Chicken Tajine
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
3 teaspoons ground cumin
3 teaspoons sweet paprika
1 teaspoon ground coriander
1 teaspoon turmeric
1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
2-3 tablespoons fresh squeezed lemon juice
4-6 cloves garlic, smashed or minced
2-3 tablepsoons of roughly chopped fresh mint
1/4 cup chopped fresh cilantro
2 pounds boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cut into large chunks
2 tablespoons moroccan adobo spice blend or ras el hanout (recipes follow)
2 large yellow onions, rough chopped
1 cup pitted prunes
1/2 cup golden raisins
6 oranges, sectioned or cut into supremes
1 1/2 cups green or kalamata olives, preferrably pitted
3-4 cups chicken stock

Heat your pan over high heat. season the chicken with either the adobo or ras el hanout. Add the olive oil to the pan, and just as it starts to smoke, add the chicken. Move it around so that the chicken is in an even layer across the bottom of the pan, and then let it just sear for 2-3 minutes.

Once all sides of the chicken have been seared, reduce to medium-high heat and add the onions and garlic. There should be a little moisture in the pan from the chicken, but add 1/4 cup of stock if necessary.

Cook until the onions clarify, then add the raisins, dates, and spices, stirring to mix thoroughly. Add half the stock, cover, and let simmer over medium heat for 10-12 minutes.

Add the apples, oranges, mint and cilantro and stir to mix thoroughly. Let simmer another 5 minutes.

Top with scallions and serve over couscous.

Couscous
2 cups couscous (I prefer toasted pearl couscous)
4 1/2 cups veal or dark chicken stock

Bring the stock to a simmer. Add the couscous and stock to a large bowl. Cover and let stand for 10 minutes. Serve immediately.

Adobo Marroqui spice blend
1 tablespoon ground cumin
1 tablespoon smoked paprika
1 tablespoon onion powder
1 tablespoon garlic powder
2 tablespoons sugar
1 tablespoon kosher salt
1/2 tablespoon dehydrated lemon zest
1/2 tablepoon ground coriander
1/2 tablespoon turmeric
1/4 tablepoon cinnamon

Ras el Hanout spice blend
2 teaspoons ground ginger
2 teaspoons ground coriander
1 1/2 teaspoons ground cumin
1 1/2 teaspoons ground cardamom
1 1/2 teaspoons freshly ground black pepper
1 1/4 teaspoons freshly grated nutmeg
1 teaspoon turmeric
1 teaspoon ground allspice
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon sweet paprika
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
Generous pinch saffron threads

A quick note on spices: most of the spices in the adobo and ras el hanout can and should be toasted before grinding them fresh just before adding them to your mix and using them in the recipe. Toasting the spices makes an unbelievable difference in the intensity and depth of flavor, and should be done as often as possible to achieve maximum flavor.

Toasting is easy – add all the spices to a skillet and set over medium-high heat. Don’t walk away, your spices can burn in the blink of an eye. Stand right over it and keep the spices moving in the pan with a sautee motion or by stirring with a spoon. As soon as you see the first seeds start to darken and smoke, you’re there – take it off the heat, dump it into a spice grinder or coffee grinder and grind away. Try not to drool as the heavenly aroma surrounds you.

Stage (pronunciation rhymes with Taj, not age) is an audition for a job in the kitchen. You want to work in a particular restaurant? you go there, work from the time the chef says “GO!” until he decides he’s done with you. You do this for free, and you pray to the culinary god’s to smile on you and keep you from doing/saying something stupid. It’s an experience like no other, and something anyone outside of the culinary world may never understand. Notwithstanding, this pretty much sums it up:

You’re about to explode. There’s too far too much blood and oxygen coursing through your veins, and your eyes your pupils are so dialated that they would catch the attention of any police officer you came across. You just finished your stage, and it went so beautifully that you’re too wound up to eat, or drink, or even talk about it. This is one of those perfectly fleeting moments, so you just sit there on the bus, missing your stop, so you can soak it all up. You start Tuesday as the new fish cook. Unless:

You blew it. It seemed like your stage was going ok, but right around the end of the first turn the sous told you that you could take off. You considered protesting, but instead you decided to change, have a smoke and get a bite to eat. Sitting down at the bar, you order your food and a drink, and sometime later the chef tells you that you’re welcome back anytime…but no job is discussed. And you dont ask about one. Your stage is over, and you wasted it. So how did this happen?

Prep:
You went into the restaurant between lunch and dinner service dressed appropriately, resume and knives in hand. For a week you’ve been reading the menu on-line, and bringing yourself up to speed on the background of the chef and the restaurant itself. After your chat with the chef, you let him know that you’re ready to stage that evening if he would like. He tells you to come back Friday instead. On Friday you show up early, smiling and introducing yourself to any staff that you come across. You take your knives and a spoon out of your kit that you slimmed down a bit, and settle in with any prep work that they’ll give you–herb picking, cutting bread, citrus supremes. You work quietly and cleanly, with eyes and ears open so you dont miss a thing. Unless:

You drop into the restaurant as you walk by, and approach the chef who is expediting a fairly busy lunch service. He doesn’t have time to talk to you right now, but tells you to come back that evening at 4 for a stage. You tell him that you have tickets to a show, but could you come in tomorrow? He asks for a resume. You dont have it with you. When you do show up for your stage, the chef asks you why you want to work in his restaurant; what is it about this place, this food, that turns you on? You stumble through some bullshit answers. He smirks at you. Unpacking your kit you pull out 6 knives, a spatula, tongs, and a handful of spoons. The sous steps in next to you.
“Um. What’s all that shit for?”
Working through your prep, you dont shut up–about your last job, your opinions on how things should be done, and who you think should win top chef. No one really responds to you, but you go on anyways.

Service:
The chef had told you that he needed a fish cook, so this is the station that you stick with through prep, line-up, and into service. During line up you politely ask if you can taste mise, and as you taste dishes you take notes, and try to memorize the station set-up. Just before service you sweep the station and wipe down everything for the cook. You ask the chef if he wants you anywhere else during service, but he says no. During service you pull plates, and garnish, but generally try to stay out of the way and observe. Eventually the pace starts to build a bit, and the cook catches your eye.
“Alright. We’re going on 7 fish and 6 scallops. We’ll go together, ok? You take the scallop dish.”
An hour later you’re cooking all of the proteins on your own, with the fish cook plating and garnishing for you. When the sous asks how it’s all going for you, you tell him you love it, and want to close the station that night. There will be no end of shift meal or drink for you. Just a cold family meal, a watery iced tea, and a nod of approval from the brigade. Unless:

You bounce around the kitchen getting all up in everyones shit, but not really absorbing anything. You taste without asking, and more than once you criticize the food. During one of your rants about how you used to do it at your last job, the grill cook catches looks at you and growls “Well that’s so fucking interesting.” Most of your evening is spent leaning against the ice machine, and when you do step in, you’re so fucking slow wiping plates and garnishing that the sous knocks the chervil out of your hand and shouts “JUST FUCKING SEND IT!” You cook zero orders, and when you sit down to eat at the bar, you order an expensive cocktail, and dont tip. You. Fucking. Blew. It.

There is nothing like a stage in any other field of work. Sure, athletes have tryouts, and actors have auditions. A stage is both. It lasts many hours, is physically and mentally draining, and everyone is already expecting you to fail before you even begin. It’s the culinary equivalent of getting jumped into a gang. You get one chance to get it right, and being thrust into an unfamiliar, borderline hostile environment guarantees that if you don’t fail outright, you are at very least probably going to make a stupid mistake.

And at the end of your stage, it’s all of this pressure that makes succeeding all the more sweet. To have cooked well, and won over the cooks that let you into their home is a special thing. It’s a re-affirming rite of passage, and a fleeting feeling you only get to enjoy every once in a while. Don’t let your stage just pass on by.