Book review: Jamie’s Food
Revolution (and some ranting)

Months ago, I received a copy of Jamie’s Food Revolution. After looking it over — and illegitimately finding a way to watch the TV series from here in Holland (thanks, IP disguising software!), I decided that the best way to review it would be to test it out with the core audience, i.e. inexperienced cooks. Luckily, I had one of those right in my house, in the form of Kyle, my husband.

Kyle, being an all-around brilliant person, knows enough to stay out of my way in the kitchen, especially when I’m, say, on a two week pizza dough experiment binge. This survivalist attitude has unfortunately stunted his cooking skills, so he was the perfect candidate for a basic book like Food Revolution.

The philosophy behind the book is so Jamie Oliver, the real-life manifestation of Ratatouille’s Gusteau: “Anyone can cook!” Looking at the recipes I was pretty skeptical, but I’m pretty fed up with the open a can, semi-homemade style of learning to cook (curse you, Sandra Lee!) so anything that involves totally fresh ingredients is an improvement.

I always approach recipes with a skim-it-over-how-can-I -improve-this approach, or “this-does-not-sound-authentic” assumption, which is directly related to my skepticism about this book’s approach. But, as I said, I’m not the core audience here. The core audience just wants to learn when to put the chicken in the stir fry, not whether the sauce ingredients are authentically szechuan.

The format is fairly simple: the book is broken out into sections, such as pastas, stir fries, curries, roasts, veg, sweets. The front of the book is pretty genius: it gives a basic list of what tools you should have in your kitchen (I agree with all except the food processor), and best of all, a list of ingredients to keep in your pantry to always be able to do some spur-of-the-moment cooking. This is so brilliant: removing the barrier you experience when you come home from work dead-tired, don’t want to go to the store and are about to pick up the phone for takeout. But look! I can make a classic tomato pasta faster than they can deliver that horrible pizza!

This leads me to my latest rant: the general cultural attitude seems to be changing from a perspective of “anyone can cook”, to cooking as an increasingly specialised niche. Everyone has that crazy foodie friend who cures their own salumi or raises bees to make lavender-infused ice cream. (And yes, I do recognise the irony of me writing this.) It’s become this macho, Momofuku-fueled, bacon-jam-infused culture that frankly, is intimidating to the person who can’t even get past making boxed mac and cheese. This goes for ingredients too: if you constantly hear that eight dollar tomatoes and foraged chanterelles are the only way to go, you may end up sighing, start putting away the pans and call in the Chinese takeout. Remember, it’s just cooking. Baby steps.

I had Kyle pick out a recipe, shop for it (of the ingredients we did not have in the house) and follow the recipe to the letter, only asking me for clarification if he didn’t get something. He basically didn’t need to ask me for help. The stir-fries came out beautifully. (Although I had him note my one adjustment: oyster sauce. If you are searching for the secret sauce, look no further.)

I tried a recipe for Moroccan lamb and found it, not authentic by any means, but easy and with really nice fresh flavors. Again, the point of this book exactly.

From the newbie cook perspective, my only big complaints have to do with the book’s design. First, the binding is terrible. This book is really positioned to be a staple, a reference, probably sitting on the shelf right next to your stained copy of Joy of Cooking. After a few times of sitting it open on the counter and paging through it, that sucker is already falling apart. Secondly, the recipe format is fairly atrocious for beginning cooks. There is no numbering, just a single paragraph style with bullet points for the steps (in non-list format!) This made it almost impossible to follow. Design over readability– I’m sorry, totally unacceptable for something like this. Please, next edition, fix this!

I love Jamie Oliver’s philosophy: fresh and from scratch equals healthy (I thought the TV series related to this book was pretty cheesy, but at least it got people thinking about this). I find Jamie himself a little over the top, but I completely admire his sincerity on this issue, and I think he’s a voice that can create real change. This is the book I would give to the student leaving home for the first time, or that person you know who uses their oven to store cookware. They may not whip up a croquembouche, but they’ll make a killer stir-fry.

Chicken Chow Mein
adapted from Jamie’s Food Revolution
The only changes I made to this recipe was to add oyster sauce, make the water chestnuts optional, added optional baby corn, and double the ingredients to serve 4 people (I don’t agree with the book’s assessment about making stir fry in two batches, especially if you have a fairly large wok).

Ingredients
Thumb-sized piece of fresh ginger
2 cloves garlic
1 fresh red chile
2 large skinless chicken breast fillets
sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 scallions
a small bunch fresh cilantro
1 bok choy (we used baby bok choy. Gai laan is also good in this)
8 ounces (250g) chow mein noodles
1 heaped teaspoon cornstarch
1 8-ounce can water chestnuts (optional)
a small handful of fresh baby corn (optional)
3 tablespoons soy sauce (I like soy superior)
3 tablespoons oyster sauce
1 small lime

Prepare your stir-fry

1. Put a large pan of water on to boil.
2. Peel and finely slice the ginger and garlic. Finely slice the chile (remove the seeds if you don’t want too much heat). Finely slice the scallions.
3. Pick the cilantro leaves and put aside, and finely chop the cilantro stalks.
4. Halve the bok choy lengthwise.
5. Slice the chicken into finger-sized strips and lightly season with salt and pepper.

Cook your stir-fry

1. Preheat a wok on high heat and once it’s very, very hot, add a good lug of peanut oil and swirl it around.
2. Stir in the chicken strips and cook for a couple of minutes, until the chicken browns slightly.
3. Add the ginger, garlic chile, cilantro stalks, and half the scallions. Stir fry for 30 seconds, keeping everything moving around the wok quickly.
4. Add your noodles and bok choy to the boiling water and cook for 2 to 3 minutes, no longer.
5. Meanwhile, add the cornstarch, water chestnuts and baby corn (if using) to the wok and give it another good shake to make sure nothing sticks to the bottom.
6. Remove from the heat and stir in the soy sauce.
7. Halve the lime, squeeze the juice of one half into the pan and mix well.
8. Stir in the noodles and bok choy, with a little of the cooking water to loosen if necessary, and mix well.
9. Have a taste and season with more soy sauce if needed.

To serve your stir-fry

1. Use tongs to lift everything into a large serving platter.
2. Spoon any juices over the top and sprinkle the rest of the scallions and cilantro leaves. Serve with lime wedges.

Mais con hielo

We’ve been having a bit of a heat wave here in NL. (Keep in mind that ‘heat wave’ here means ‘perfect weather’ anywhere else.) It was the perfect opportunity to bust out our hidden-way-back-in-the-cabinet ice shaver for some cold treats. Tonight I decided to make a Filipino classic, mais con hielo, and it’s also my entry for this month’s corn-themed Beets N Squash.

When it comes to Filipino cold desserts, halo-halo is the undisputed king. Halo-halo is basically shave ice with milk, then topped with almost anything under the tropical sun: sweet beans, pandan jelly, leche flan, ube (purple yam) jam, ube ice cream, pinipig (crispy rice), jackfruit. If it’s sweet, you’ve probably seen it on halo-halo. It’s like the Vegas of desserts.

One of many halo-halos I ate during my recent trip to the Philippines

Mais con hielo (literally meaning ‘corn with ice’) is just the opposite. It’s like halo-halo’s humble cousin. It’s the simplest summer dessert ever: sweet corn, shave ice, and whatever milk floats your boat. Some prefer fresh milk, some like evaporated milk, others like to sweeten it with some condensed milk. In the summer, we would eat this all the time at home — I mean, seriously, I loves me some halo-halo, but who has the fifty ingredients lying around to make it?

Although this dessert often makes use of canned corn, you can make it with fresh sweet corn, which has the added benefit of adding a bit of corn ‘milk’ to the mixture when you take it off the cob. (You may want to cook it just a bit in its own liquid after removing from the corn cob).

For the dairy element, I use a neutral ice cream, such as sweet cream rather than vanilla, but if vanilla is what you have, it’ll still taste great, and it also sweetens the mais con hielo so you don’t need to add sugar. I also add a splash of whole milk.

In terms of the shave ice, I think a proper ice shaver is a must. It makes the ice light and fluffy. I’ve never tried crushing it in a food processor (I don’t own a food processor large enough, so it’ll have to remain a mystery to me). If anyone out there uses something else, let me know. A bit more shave ice than the other ingredients, then equal parts corn and ice cream work beautifully, and you’ll be wondering why you haven’t been eating corn for dessert all your life.

The ice shaver at our house, courtesy of my mom

Mais con hielo
serves 4

Ingredients:
About 2 cups shave ice
A pint of vanilla or sweet cream ice cream
2-3 cobs of sweet corn (or a can of crunchy corn kernels)
Whole milk

1. If you are using fresh corn, scrape the corn kernels off the cob, also catching the liquid. Heat until warm in a saucepan. Cool in the refrigerator.
2. Assemble the mais con hielo in tall drinking glasses: a half cup of shave ice, followed by a few tablespoons of corn, a scoop of ice cream, then a few more tablespoons of corn. Pour a bit of milk over the whole thing. Crush it all together with a spoon while eating. Hopefully it’s a hot and humid day because this is the best way to enjoy it!

Links:
Gourmet Fury: Beets N Squash

Chicken inasal (inasal na manok)

For this month’s Kulinarya Cooking Club barbecue theme, I decided to tackle the mother of all Filipino chicken barbecue traditions: chicken inasal.

Inasal chicken is the traditional grilled chicken from Negros, an island in the Visayas. The place with legendary inasal is Bacolod, where chicken inasal is practically a religion. It’s so popular that it has spurred all sorts of chain restaurants, many of which I understand don’t do the ‘real chicken Bacolod’. (I’ve had it, and I have to say it tasted pretty good to me, but then again, I’ve never been to Bacolod. Oh well, next time Visayas!)

In my quest to perfect my version of inasal, I barbecued it — to the delight of my family — three weekends in a row, adjusting and changing the technique of the flavorings and marinade times. Somehow the weather seemed to disagree with me every time, raining on me twice and most recently, having me shivering — in late June, mind you — in 12 C degree weather while turning pieces of chicken for 45 minutes. Holland is definitely not Bacolod when it comes to the weather.

That said, it was well worth the effort in trying to bring a little bit of the Philippines here, despite the crap weather. The first time I prepared the chicken, I only marinated it for an hour, per Marketman’s instructions (you can find his great post on chicken inasal on his website, Market Manila. He also links to a great article about Bacolod chicken originally run in the Philippine Star.) The flavor on the skin was quite good, but I found the meat to be a bit bland. I decided to compensate the next time by brining the chicken in water, sugar and salt overnight, then marinating for the last two hours. Somehow the sugar/salt combination created really strong flavor, but overwhelmed not just the chicken, but the marinade itself.

So, it turned out, third time’s the charm. I marinated the chicken for 6 hours (the same day I was grilling), and this seemed to strike the perfect timing of flavor. I normally marinate overnight, but the vinegar is pretty strong and can overwhelm a mild meat like chicken (as well as ‘cook’ it with acid) so I think same-day marinating hits the sweet spot. The other trick that was well worth the effort was taking the lemongrass and garlic (garlic is an essential component of an inasal marinade) and pounding it, with the salt, into a paste. This extracted flavor from both, without getting the woody bits of lemongrass in the grilled chicken. (my daughter was not a fan of the lemongrass chunks in earlier versions.)

Also essential to inasal is a native vinegar (I used an Ilocos-style cane vinegar, but palm vinegar is also nice), calamansi juice, and a basting sauce with achuete. My big problem is that there seems to be absolutely nowhere I can get calamansi where I live, and I once found achuete, but can’t remember where, so that was out of the picture. I squeezed in a bit of lime in place of the calamansi (blasphemy, I know), and skipped the achuete, just adding a bit of pimenton to the butter/oil basting sauce. (I know Marketman says to use Star margarine for basting, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it).

My last tip is to use all dark meat if you can. It won’t dry out, and it tastes worlds better on the grill than chicken breasts, which seem to instantly evaporate their juices on the grill and end up tasting like marinated cotton. A whole bunch of chicken thighs and drumsticks would be perfect, especially drumsticks because they have a nice meat-to-surface-area ratio. And by the way, the skin is amazing. But how could it not be? You’ll have spent 30 minutes basting it with butter.

Chicken Inasal
serves 6-8 people

Ingredients
4 pounds (2 kg) chicken thighs and legs
3 stalks lemongrass, chopped
8 cloves garlic, minced
1 tablespoon salt
1/4 cup native Philippine vinegar
3 tablespoons calamansi juice (or in my case, lime juice)
freshly ground black pepper

For the basting sauce:
1/4 cup (50 g) salted butter
freshly ground black pepper
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 tablespoon achuete oil (if you don’t have it, you can add 1 teaspoon pimenton or paprika for color)

1. Combine the lemongrass, garlic and salt in a mortar and pestle, and pound into a paste. Add the vinegar, calamansi juice and several grinds of black pepper to the paste and mix well.
2. Set the chicken pieces in a large ziploc bag and pour the marinade over them. Marinate (shifting around after a few hours) for about six hours.
3. When you are ready to grill, get the grill ready and prepare your basting sauce. Melt the butter in a saucepan, add the oils and plenty of black pepper and mix well.
4. Set the chicken on the grill over a fairly high heat, turning so they don’t burn, but brown on all sides. Set the chicken on a cooler part of the grill and baste with the butter sauce every ten minutes or so. The chicken should be cooked through after about 30 minutes. To make sure it’s cooked through, the meat should be 170 degrees F (76 C) internally when tested with an instant-read thermometer.
5. Serve with lots of rice.

Links:
Kulinarya Cooking Club
Market Manila: Inasal chicken
Article: Fowl play in “Manokan” country

My past barbeque posts:
Crispywaffle.com: Barbeque pork skewers
Crispywaffle.com: Grilled chicken with pineapple marinade

Wordless Wednesday: Rural
Philippines edition

In the Philippine countryside, May 2010.

Vanilla malt polvoron

This is my first post for Kulinarya Cooking Club, a group of Filipino bloggers dedicated to sharing Filipino recipes. This month’s theme is polvoron, one of my favorite sweets.

Polvoron is powdered milk candy, so named for its crumbly texture (polvo meaning powder or dust in Spanish). In this way, it resembles the classic Spanish polvorones, which are a sandy biscuit made flavored with almonds and lard. The main ingredients for Filipino polvoron are toasted flour, powdered milk, sugar and butter.

I had this idea of incorporating vanilla bean, which complements the milky flavor. As I was toasting the flour, I then thought about one of my favorite ingredients for milk: malted milk powder. The result was addictive: like a malted vanilla shake in candy form.

I’ve learned a couple of techniques to prevent frustration while making polvoron, which is a really fragile candy. (It’ll literally crumble in your hand if you’re not careful!) After combining all the ingredients, chill it in the fridge for an hour or two. This will keep it from sticking to the polvoron mould or biscuit cutter. After shaping them, set them in the freezer. If you want to wrap them in tissue paper, or stack them in containers, this step will keep you from pulling your hair out. For me, polvoron moulds are the way to go — I haven’t tried to use a biscuit cutter. If you live somewhere where there’s a Filipino grocery, these should be relatively easy to find.

One more tip: my mom swears by Nestle KLIM for the powdered milk, so it’s the only powdered milk I will use for polvoron. Even if you don’t swear by a specific brand, do make sure you use a full-fat (definitely not non-fat) powdered milk. For the malted milk powder, I used Horlicks, which is unsweetened and has a strong malt flavor.

Vanilla malt polvoron
makes about 40 candies

Ingredients
1-1/2 cup (190g) all-purpose flour
1/2 cup (60g) Horlicks malted milk powder
2 vanilla beans, split and scraped
1/4 teaspoon salt
1-1/2 cup (160g) powdered milk
1 cup (200g) granulated sugar
8 ounces (200g) melted butter

1. In an medium-sized pan, toast the flour over medium-low heat, stirring constantly with a heat-proof spatula or wooden spoon. The flour will become fragrant and should become the color of sand. Remove from heat and cool to room temperature.
2. Add the vanilla bean, malt powder, salt, sugar and powdered milk to the flour. Pour in the melted butter and stir until the mixture resembles wet sand. (My son calls polvoron “sand sweeties”) Set in the refrigerator for at least an hour.
3. Using a polvoron mould, shape the candy and place them in a container or baking sheet in a single layer. Freeze for several hours. I like to eat them straight from the freezer, but they can also be wrapped in tissue paper and eaten at room temperature.