I've only been writing about food recently. That seems odd, and yet unsurprising. There's a reason I look like this.
I made a trip to the nearest Williams-Sonoma recently (in Bellevue!). I had to pick up a couple specialty kitchen gadgets, so Williams-Sonoma was the obvious choice. Why is it the obvious choice? Let me share a little experience of ours...
Ames had a cookie press. It was a gift 4 or 5 years ago; the press was from Williams-Sonoma. So we took it out, and realized it wasn't working. There was a problem with the spring in it, so there was no tension on the plunger. As a result, it was totally worthless.
Ames called Willy-Sono, and they told her to bring it in. So in we go, taking a four-year-old defunct cookie press and no receipt.
"Yep, that's one of ours," the sales guy says. He looks it up in the book and tells us they don't carry it any more, but the sale price on it was $35. He gives Ames $35 store credit.
Then he shows us the model that replaced Ames' defunct press, explains why it's better and tells us it cost in the neighbourhood of $10 more. But of course, he assures us, it's a store credit so we can use it on anything.
If we had brought in a receipt, he tells us, he could have given us a refund.
That's for a four-year-old cookie press that's stopped working, with no receipt.
Where am I going to spend my kitchen budget from now on?
So I bought a pizza stone and a french bread pan this week. Are they a little spendy? Absolutely! But they both include a slip that tells me to take them back at any time if I decide I don't like them. I didn't pay extra for the quality (although they're obviously of superior quality to other offerings I've both purchased and researched). I paid extra so I can deal with people who treat me like I matter.
I'm sold.
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Saturday, December 26, 2009
That's Amore! (Reprise)
I had previously posted a pictorial step-by-step to how we've been making pizza. The pictures Ames took were fabulous. But two things have made me decide we need a follow-up:
So here's an update of our step-by-step pizza making guide:
The Crust
The place to start is with the crust. I originally used a recipe I found online, but I've adjusted it to our taste. My recipe uses sourdough: I have a starter that took some sweat and tears to get to its current maturity. If you're in a hurry, you can make a starter that works by just throwing a tablespoon or so of dry yeast into two cups of flour and two cups of water; put them all into a jar and put it into the fridge. Feed it once a week. If you want something more authentic, you can check out some recipes on sourdough.com, Accidental Scientist, or S. John Ross. You can also buy a starter from Sourdoughs International, among other places. My own starter is an adulterated biga, as I mentioned before.
So here's the crust:
Put the water, yeast, salt, and sourdough starter into your kitchen machine (or bread bowl) and let it sit for 20--30 minutes. Then start kneading. Knead it wet for 10--20 minutes, then add enough flour to make a sticky ball of dough. Turn it onto a floured board and shape it into a ball. Refrigerate this overnight.
That's enough dough for six 16-inch pizzas or 8 12-inch pizzas. Always make the biggest pizzas you can handle! the best pizzas I've ever eaten were 20-inch monsters from Luigi's Pizza in Charlotte, NC. Larger pizzas have better sauce-to-crust ratios, and more manageable slices. I make 16-inch pies, because that's all I can fit into my oven.
The Sauce
The crust is the heart of your pizza: the sauce is its soul. I made horrible pizza for years, until I learned my sauce was too complex. To make truly great pie, use the simplest possible sauce.
Rinse your tomatoes in running water, pour off all the liquid. Put all the ingredients into a food processor or blender and pulse until it is a fine sauce. Don't puree!!! there needs to be some texture to your sauce. This is pizza sauce, not ketchup. I use a hand blender and a measuring cup. This picture is old, I use a lot less oregano now. But you get the idea.
Assembling the Pie
Shaping the pie takes some practice. I can describe it to you, but you need to make a bunch and learn the feel.
First, take the dough out of the refrigerator and let it warm a couple hours.
Preheat your oven to 500F.
Put some flour on the counter, put the dough ball on it, and gently pat the ball into a disc. Turn it over several times so both sides are well floured. You don't want to dry out your dough by over-flouring, but you need to ensure it's not sticking. Once you get a fat disc, it's time to start stretching it.
So lift the dough, and start to gently stretch the edges. The middle will begin to stretch to fit the edges. Once it gets loose, toss it hand to hand. The trick here is to gently tease it into a more or less uniform disc about 16 inches in diameter.
If you feel adventurous, you can toss it overhead. I have had only small success actually tossing dough. Sometimes it works, more generally it doesn't. Be careful catching it, if you catch it on your fingers, you might well puncture your crust.
Once your dough is more or less the right size, place it on a well-greased pizza pan. Now's the hard part: gently shape it to the pan. Whatever you do, don't push the dough down onto the pan, lift and stretch. Using gentle lifting and teasing motion to shape the dough. If you keep upward motion, the pizza will be looser in the pan.
Once the pizza is in the pan, sauce it. Cover the crust, but don't overdo the sauce. Less is more.
Over the sauce, sprinkle some dried (ground) parmesan. This will add a hint of salt to the pie that's very subtle.
Over the parmesan, sprinkle mozzarella generously. It's easy to overdo the cheese, so use caution. But cover the pie up to the edges.
Baking
I put my pizza stone on the bottom rack and but the top rack on the second-highest level.
The pizza goes on the top rack until the crust and cheese begin to brown. I used to put the pizza pan right on the stone, but I found I get better spring in the crust if I let it cook to firmness on a higher rack with more airflow.
Once the crust is starting to brown, I move the pan down to the stone. From this point, I check it every minute. When it's almost done, the pie will release from the pan. As soon as it releases, I slide the pan out from under the pizza and let the pizza finish on the stone. It only takes a minute or two, but the final couple minutes on the stone crisp up the crust and let the cheese caramelize a little.
If you do it right, you end up with a pie that's a little brown on the top, browned on the edges, and puffy on the edge, thinning in the middle.
So that's it. Let me know how this works for you.
- a couple people have asked me about the technique, and seemed to think what I posted before wasn't too clear
- we've made a couple recipe and technique adjustments.
 |
| From Pizza Reprise |
So here's an update of our step-by-step pizza making guide:
The Crust
The place to start is with the crust. I originally used a recipe I found online, but I've adjusted it to our taste. My recipe uses sourdough: I have a starter that took some sweat and tears to get to its current maturity. If you're in a hurry, you can make a starter that works by just throwing a tablespoon or so of dry yeast into two cups of flour and two cups of water; put them all into a jar and put it into the fridge. Feed it once a week. If you want something more authentic, you can check out some recipes on sourdough.com, Accidental Scientist, or S. John Ross. You can also buy a starter from Sourdoughs International, among other places. My own starter is an adulterated biga, as I mentioned before.
So here's the crust:
- 2 C. sourdough starter
- 4 C. water
- 2 tsp dry yeast
- 3.5 tsp salt
- 8--14 C. flour
Put the water, yeast, salt, and sourdough starter into your kitchen machine (or bread bowl) and let it sit for 20--30 minutes. Then start kneading. Knead it wet for 10--20 minutes, then add enough flour to make a sticky ball of dough. Turn it onto a floured board and shape it into a ball. Refrigerate this overnight.
That's enough dough for six 16-inch pizzas or 8 12-inch pizzas. Always make the biggest pizzas you can handle! the best pizzas I've ever eaten were 20-inch monsters from Luigi's Pizza in Charlotte, NC. Larger pizzas have better sauce-to-crust ratios, and more manageable slices. I make 16-inch pies, because that's all I can fit into my oven.
The Sauce
The crust is the heart of your pizza: the sauce is its soul. I made horrible pizza for years, until I learned my sauce was too complex. To make truly great pie, use the simplest possible sauce.
- 8 whole peeled tomatoes from a can. I find S&W is the best, but Hunt's are good too. Don't buy crushed tomatoes or tomato sauce your pie depends on getting this right!
- 1/2 tsp. salt
- 1/4 tsp. white sugar. I like to use berry sugar, but granulated sugar works just fine.
- a hint of oregano. I used to use 1 Tbsp., but I've come to believe that's vastly too much. I now use just enough to see.
Less is more, in this case.
Rinse your tomatoes in running water, pour off all the liquid. Put all the ingredients into a food processor or blender and pulse until it is a fine sauce. Don't puree!!! there needs to be some texture to your sauce. This is pizza sauce, not ketchup. I use a hand blender and a measuring cup. This picture is old, I use a lot less oregano now. But you get the idea.
 |
| From That's Amore |
Assembling the Pie
Shaping the pie takes some practice. I can describe it to you, but you need to make a bunch and learn the feel.
First, take the dough out of the refrigerator and let it warm a couple hours.
Preheat your oven to 500F.
Put some flour on the counter, put the dough ball on it, and gently pat the ball into a disc. Turn it over several times so both sides are well floured. You don't want to dry out your dough by over-flouring, but you need to ensure it's not sticking. Once you get a fat disc, it's time to start stretching it.
 |
| From That's Amore |
So lift the dough, and start to gently stretch the edges. The middle will begin to stretch to fit the edges. Once it gets loose, toss it hand to hand. The trick here is to gently tease it into a more or less uniform disc about 16 inches in diameter.
 |
| From That's Amore |
If you feel adventurous, you can toss it overhead. I have had only small success actually tossing dough. Sometimes it works, more generally it doesn't. Be careful catching it, if you catch it on your fingers, you might well puncture your crust.
Once your dough is more or less the right size, place it on a well-greased pizza pan. Now's the hard part: gently shape it to the pan. Whatever you do, don't push the dough down onto the pan, lift and stretch. Using gentle lifting and teasing motion to shape the dough. If you keep upward motion, the pizza will be looser in the pan.
Once the pizza is in the pan, sauce it. Cover the crust, but don't overdo the sauce. Less is more.
Over the sauce, sprinkle some dried (ground) parmesan. This will add a hint of salt to the pie that's very subtle.
Over the parmesan, sprinkle mozzarella generously. It's easy to overdo the cheese, so use caution. But cover the pie up to the edges.
 |
| From That's Amore |
Baking
I put my pizza stone on the bottom rack and but the top rack on the second-highest level.
The pizza goes on the top rack until the crust and cheese begin to brown. I used to put the pizza pan right on the stone, but I found I get better spring in the crust if I let it cook to firmness on a higher rack with more airflow.
Once the crust is starting to brown, I move the pan down to the stone. From this point, I check it every minute. When it's almost done, the pie will release from the pan. As soon as it releases, I slide the pan out from under the pizza and let the pizza finish on the stone. It only takes a minute or two, but the final couple minutes on the stone crisp up the crust and let the cheese caramelize a little.
If you do it right, you end up with a pie that's a little brown on the top, browned on the edges, and puffy on the edge, thinning in the middle.
 |
| From Pizza Reprise |
So that's it. Let me know how this works for you.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Lasagna
I have a sort of sehnsucht for good lasagna. On Vancouver Island, pretty much any restaurant that advertises lasagna serves a wonderful concoction of pasta, rich brown meat sauce, and toasted cheese in a small casserole dish. What people cook and serve in their homes is more like the traditional lasagna you might find anywhere: a tomatoey, tangy sauce between somewhat dry layers of cheese and pasta.
When I left the Island, I realized that those lasagnas of my youth were in fact somewhat rare. I launched on a long quest to find lasagna, and ended up eating many cubes of layered tomato and pasta. I ordered lasagna in good Italian places, and got a very tangy, creamy, cheesey pile of noodles. The best lasagna I had of that sort was at Fontanella in Charlotte, NC.
But I was longing for the lasagnas of those elder days. The greatest of those is the lasagna of Romeo's Place in Nanaimo, Duncan, and Victoria.
But the key to my search was when I discovered Julianna Pizza and House of Pizza in Charlotte, NC. It was at Juliana that I first recognized a very important correlation, "Say, everywhere I find that makes the kind of lasagna I like is owned by Greeks..." And so I added a criterion to my list of lasagnas: only order lasagna where there is at least one picture of the Parthenon on the walls. I have yet to find a Greek-owned restaurant without at least a picture of the Parthenon on one wall and an ikon of the Theotokos on another.
When we moved back west, I took the opportunity of being back on the Island to revisit my lasagna haunts. Memory hadn't exaggerated the goodness: the lasagnas and baked ravioli were every bit as good as I had remembered.
So a couple months ago, I went out on a limb and googled "Greek meat sauce recipe". I was curious what I'd find. What do you know, I found some recipes for kima. It looked interesting, and got me to thinking...
For a couple months now, I've wondered if I'd been the victim of marketing. Although all the lasagnas I'd truly enjoyed were listed as "Italian Fare" in the menus of those Greek restaurants, what if they were actually Greek fare?
So yesterday, I googled "Greek meat sauce recipe" again, and picked what looked like a winner: http://www.grouprecipes.com/3403/greek-meat-sauce.html. It looked possible, so I decided to try it.
And while I was at it, I spent some time doing some "research" online, and found some interesting articles about Greek pasta dishes (here's one: http://www.in2greece.com/english/food/greek-pasta-dishes.html). And lo and behold, they claimed that pasta with meat sauce is extremely popular in Greece: they're eaten baked and steamed... like the pasta menu items at my favourite lasagna joints.
By now I was pretty sure I had figured it out: places like Romeo's were serving Greek pasta dishes and calling them "Italian Fare."
So last night I made the kima from that recipe. It ended up looking like this:
That's promising. And the smell... it smells just like Romeo's...
Tonight we assembled it into some crocks we had bought to make onion soup (a story for another time). We used a mixture of cheddar and mozzarella, as we had asked one time what Romeo's uses to top their pastas:
And we baked them long enough to put a little toast on that cheese:
The verdict? It's not Romeo's or San Marcos'. But it's very, very close. Like, we figured out how they make it and just need to tweak the recipe to taste.
This is a major breakthrough for me.
When I left the Island, I realized that those lasagnas of my youth were in fact somewhat rare. I launched on a long quest to find lasagna, and ended up eating many cubes of layered tomato and pasta. I ordered lasagna in good Italian places, and got a very tangy, creamy, cheesey pile of noodles. The best lasagna I had of that sort was at Fontanella in Charlotte, NC.
But I was longing for the lasagnas of those elder days. The greatest of those is the lasagna of Romeo's Place in Nanaimo, Duncan, and Victoria.
But the key to my search was when I discovered Julianna Pizza and House of Pizza in Charlotte, NC. It was at Juliana that I first recognized a very important correlation, "Say, everywhere I find that makes the kind of lasagna I like is owned by Greeks..." And so I added a criterion to my list of lasagnas: only order lasagna where there is at least one picture of the Parthenon on the walls. I have yet to find a Greek-owned restaurant without at least a picture of the Parthenon on one wall and an ikon of the Theotokos on another.
When we moved back west, I took the opportunity of being back on the Island to revisit my lasagna haunts. Memory hadn't exaggerated the goodness: the lasagnas and baked ravioli were every bit as good as I had remembered.
So a couple months ago, I went out on a limb and googled "Greek meat sauce recipe". I was curious what I'd find. What do you know, I found some recipes for kima. It looked interesting, and got me to thinking...
For a couple months now, I've wondered if I'd been the victim of marketing. Although all the lasagnas I'd truly enjoyed were listed as "Italian Fare" in the menus of those Greek restaurants, what if they were actually Greek fare?
So yesterday, I googled "Greek meat sauce recipe" again, and picked what looked like a winner: http://www.grouprecipes.com/3403/greek-meat-sauce.html. It looked possible, so I decided to try it.
And while I was at it, I spent some time doing some "research" online, and found some interesting articles about Greek pasta dishes (here's one: http://www.in2greece.com/english/food/greek-pasta-dishes.html). And lo and behold, they claimed that pasta with meat sauce is extremely popular in Greece: they're eaten baked and steamed... like the pasta menu items at my favourite lasagna joints.
By now I was pretty sure I had figured it out: places like Romeo's were serving Greek pasta dishes and calling them "Italian Fare."
So last night I made the kima from that recipe. It ended up looking like this:
 |
| From Lasagna |
That's promising. And the smell... it smells just like Romeo's...
Tonight we assembled it into some crocks we had bought to make onion soup (a story for another time). We used a mixture of cheddar and mozzarella, as we had asked one time what Romeo's uses to top their pastas:
 |
| From Lasagna |
And we baked them long enough to put a little toast on that cheese:
 |
| From Lasagna |
 |
| From Lasagna |
The verdict? It's not Romeo's or San Marcos'. But it's very, very close. Like, we figured out how they make it and just need to tweak the recipe to taste.
This is a major breakthrough for me.
Friday, November 27, 2009
Great steak
I'm very, very late with this review. It's been over a year since I ate at Fleming's Steakhouse in Charlotte, NC and I really ought to have written this last fall. But on the theory of better late than never, I'm going to post this now.
Someone from Fleming's contacted me when he read about my experiences at Capital Grille on my blog, and told me there was a Fleming's coming to Charlotte. Sadly, Fleming's came about the time I left; but I ended up in Charlotte a couple months later for three weeks, so two friends and I went to check out the new restaurant.
Fleming's is hitting a hard market in Charlotte: there are already several very good steak houses in a mid-size city. But I don't think they'll have trouble.
I ordered my usual: "French" onion soup, a ribeye cooked medium, scalloped potatoes, and a "Chocolate Lava Cake" for desert. There were also asparagus and their macaroni & cheese on the table, ordered by my companions.
I love onion soup. In fact, I think I might like it better than I like the steak I often eat with it. The onion soup at Fleming's was very good. Salivatingly good. Good enough to make me wonder whether I really needed the steak. You need to order the onion soup at Fleming's. It's good.
The steak deserves notice: it was the most consistently cooked steak I have ever had the pleasure of eating. I always order my steaks medium, but the fact is, I can eat meat from medium-rare to well done. I'm not that picky on steak: as long as it's cooked enough not to have that raw-meat mouth feel, I can eat it.
But a medium steak is actually fairly hard to cook right. In general, they come to the table either medium-well or medium rare. And in almost every case, the meat is medium-well near the edges and medium-rare at the bone. The steak at Fleming's was perfectly medium from the edge to the bone. It was remarkable: I stopped eating just to stare at the done-ness several times. It was literally 100% consistent.
I found the lava cake didn't thrill me too much, but that's frankly not the restaurant's fault. The cake itself was good, I've just gotten burned out on it. The first three or four times I had lava cake, I thought it wonderful. When I was at Fleming's, I suddenly thought "you know, I'm bored with lava cake." I shall probably never order it again anywhere---I've just gotten tired of it.
What really struck me about Fleming's was the remarkable atmosphere. I noticed it first in my correspondance with the person who contacted me because of my blog. Here was a guy who essentially cold-called me to invite me to a restaurant. He was neither obseqious nor condescending: he simply talked (well, emailed me) as a fellow food-enthusiast. And I had no idea he was going to send me a gift certificate to try the restaurant. The first mention was the envelope that arrived in the mail.
The restaurant itself had the same atmosphere: there's no question it's fine dining; but it felt much more relaxed than their competition. The waiters were not in any way unprofessional, but they were frankly much more friendly and enthusiastic than I've come to expect from that sort of establishment. One might almost accuse some of those steak houses of a pretentious atmosphere. Fleming's is nothing like that. The presentation is expert and professional, but there is a personable friendliness that I've just not seen in many places.
In fact, Fleming's reminded me of Bistro 100, which is sadly gone forever. It was fine dining, but with a relaxed, friendly, enthusiastic staff.
I like to eat out. I don't do it so much anymore, but it's still something I look forward to and enjoy. I like to eat in the fine-dining establishments, but a high price tag alone isn't worth it to me. Good service and good food are at least as important. And when I can find something "almost as good" for significantly less money, I tend to go to those places again and again. So the question I ask about any restaurant is, "why would I eat here?" That's not meant to be impertinent or disrespectful: it's meant to help me clarify what makes that restaurant unique.
At Fleming's, the food was very good, but it wasn't head and shoulders above Capital Grille or Morton's. They're all first-rate establishments, and the food is excellent in each of them. (In fact, for my money, the best steak in Charlotte is at Manzetti's.) What Fleming's does offer is the high-end steakhouse experience in an excellent environment. A waiter who is both knowledgeable and efficient and capable of relaxing me and my companions: that's what differentiates Fleming's in my mind. And on that score, it was second to none.
I've had some memorable evenings in steak houses. The night at Fleming's was one of them. All in all, Fleming's is a winner.
Someone from Fleming's contacted me when he read about my experiences at Capital Grille on my blog, and told me there was a Fleming's coming to Charlotte. Sadly, Fleming's came about the time I left; but I ended up in Charlotte a couple months later for three weeks, so two friends and I went to check out the new restaurant.
Fleming's is hitting a hard market in Charlotte: there are already several very good steak houses in a mid-size city. But I don't think they'll have trouble.
I ordered my usual: "French" onion soup, a ribeye cooked medium, scalloped potatoes, and a "Chocolate Lava Cake" for desert. There were also asparagus and their macaroni & cheese on the table, ordered by my companions.
I love onion soup. In fact, I think I might like it better than I like the steak I often eat with it. The onion soup at Fleming's was very good. Salivatingly good. Good enough to make me wonder whether I really needed the steak. You need to order the onion soup at Fleming's. It's good.
The steak deserves notice: it was the most consistently cooked steak I have ever had the pleasure of eating. I always order my steaks medium, but the fact is, I can eat meat from medium-rare to well done. I'm not that picky on steak: as long as it's cooked enough not to have that raw-meat mouth feel, I can eat it.
But a medium steak is actually fairly hard to cook right. In general, they come to the table either medium-well or medium rare. And in almost every case, the meat is medium-well near the edges and medium-rare at the bone. The steak at Fleming's was perfectly medium from the edge to the bone. It was remarkable: I stopped eating just to stare at the done-ness several times. It was literally 100% consistent.
I found the lava cake didn't thrill me too much, but that's frankly not the restaurant's fault. The cake itself was good, I've just gotten burned out on it. The first three or four times I had lava cake, I thought it wonderful. When I was at Fleming's, I suddenly thought "you know, I'm bored with lava cake." I shall probably never order it again anywhere---I've just gotten tired of it.
What really struck me about Fleming's was the remarkable atmosphere. I noticed it first in my correspondance with the person who contacted me because of my blog. Here was a guy who essentially cold-called me to invite me to a restaurant. He was neither obseqious nor condescending: he simply talked (well, emailed me) as a fellow food-enthusiast. And I had no idea he was going to send me a gift certificate to try the restaurant. The first mention was the envelope that arrived in the mail.
The restaurant itself had the same atmosphere: there's no question it's fine dining; but it felt much more relaxed than their competition. The waiters were not in any way unprofessional, but they were frankly much more friendly and enthusiastic than I've come to expect from that sort of establishment. One might almost accuse some of those steak houses of a pretentious atmosphere. Fleming's is nothing like that. The presentation is expert and professional, but there is a personable friendliness that I've just not seen in many places.
In fact, Fleming's reminded me of Bistro 100, which is sadly gone forever. It was fine dining, but with a relaxed, friendly, enthusiastic staff.
I like to eat out. I don't do it so much anymore, but it's still something I look forward to and enjoy. I like to eat in the fine-dining establishments, but a high price tag alone isn't worth it to me. Good service and good food are at least as important. And when I can find something "almost as good" for significantly less money, I tend to go to those places again and again. So the question I ask about any restaurant is, "why would I eat here?" That's not meant to be impertinent or disrespectful: it's meant to help me clarify what makes that restaurant unique.
At Fleming's, the food was very good, but it wasn't head and shoulders above Capital Grille or Morton's. They're all first-rate establishments, and the food is excellent in each of them. (In fact, for my money, the best steak in Charlotte is at Manzetti's.) What Fleming's does offer is the high-end steakhouse experience in an excellent environment. A waiter who is both knowledgeable and efficient and capable of relaxing me and my companions: that's what differentiates Fleming's in my mind. And on that score, it was second to none.
I've had some memorable evenings in steak houses. The night at Fleming's was one of them. All in all, Fleming's is a winner.
A piece of pie
Today we braved the crowds to pick up a couple things we needed to buy. We decided to eat out, and went to check Pizzeria Fondi. This is one to watch.
If I were to open a restaurant, it would be a lot like Fondi. The menu is sparse: two pasta dishes, several pizzas, some salads, a couple appetizers, and some desert. Some might look at that and see a lack of selection, I look at it and see focused effort.
The pizza is good. I'm afraid nothing will replace Luigi's in my estimation, but the pizza was very good indeed. The crust was excellent: light and chewy, slightly charred and thin. The sauce was a little too sweet for my taste, but still very good. They advertise house-made mozzarella on their pies: I can't speak to whether that's true, but the flavour was certainly not lacking.
Of course I ordered a cheese pizza: that's always my first choice. They've earned a second visit with their efforts today, so next time I'll order a pizza with sausage and onions.
Fondi's restaurants are all in the Puget Sound area, but if you're ever here, you really need to check them out.
If I were to open a restaurant, it would be a lot like Fondi. The menu is sparse: two pasta dishes, several pizzas, some salads, a couple appetizers, and some desert. Some might look at that and see a lack of selection, I look at it and see focused effort.
The pizza is good. I'm afraid nothing will replace Luigi's in my estimation, but the pizza was very good indeed. The crust was excellent: light and chewy, slightly charred and thin. The sauce was a little too sweet for my taste, but still very good. They advertise house-made mozzarella on their pies: I can't speak to whether that's true, but the flavour was certainly not lacking.
Of course I ordered a cheese pizza: that's always my first choice. They've earned a second visit with their efforts today, so next time I'll order a pizza with sausage and onions.
Fondi's restaurants are all in the Puget Sound area, but if you're ever here, you really need to check them out.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Smoky Chook
My favourite smell is chicken fat burning on charcoal. The slightly sweet smoke is an aroma that always makes me breathe deeply and salivate.
There's a kinda-sorta restaurant supply store in Tacoma, not too far from where I work. A co-worker and I drove over there at lunch last week and poked around. It was actually pretty cool: this is the first place I've seen in the NW with meat that's right for BBQ. They have pig shoulders, Boston butts, and St. Louis cut ribs.
I was drooling.
Perhaps best of all, I found 40-pound bags of mesquite lump charcoal for $15. That's an incredible buy: I've paid as much as $1/lb for good lump charcoal. This is definitely the best price I've ever seen.
I'm no great fan of mesquite smoke: I don't dislike it, but I don't see why people rave over it either. But I have to say I really like cooking on it. It holds a steady temperature, burns long, and burns clean. I still like Wicked Good Charcoal the best, but lump mesquite has become quite a favourite here.
I realized Friday that we had a couple chooks in the freezer, and I thought "What a great opportunity to try out my new charcoal!" So out they came.
I thawed them out, put them in a pan, and sprinkled them generously with salt, black pepper, and garlic powder.
I chopped up and onion and stuffed it into their little bottoms
Then they went onto the grill
You've heard me say it before: 90% of barbecuing is keeping a steady temperature. you want it to stay at or around 200F. The weather was windy and damp yesterday, and temperature was a slight challenge. But I gotta say, the mesquite really keeps a steady burn. Once I got it into the groove, it held a very steady temp for most of the six hours they were on the grill.
In this shot, the grill had just been open, so the thermometer's showing a little low. It caught back up quickly.
We brought them in after dark. The one on the right was a little torn up, as I managed to tear the skin when flipping them (I cooked them partly on their backs, partly on their breasts).
All in all, I'd call it a success.
There's a kinda-sorta restaurant supply store in Tacoma, not too far from where I work. A co-worker and I drove over there at lunch last week and poked around. It was actually pretty cool: this is the first place I've seen in the NW with meat that's right for BBQ. They have pig shoulders, Boston butts, and St. Louis cut ribs.
I was drooling.
Perhaps best of all, I found 40-pound bags of mesquite lump charcoal for $15. That's an incredible buy: I've paid as much as $1/lb for good lump charcoal. This is definitely the best price I've ever seen.
I'm no great fan of mesquite smoke: I don't dislike it, but I don't see why people rave over it either. But I have to say I really like cooking on it. It holds a steady temperature, burns long, and burns clean. I still like Wicked Good Charcoal the best, but lump mesquite has become quite a favourite here.
I realized Friday that we had a couple chooks in the freezer, and I thought "What a great opportunity to try out my new charcoal!" So out they came.
I thawed them out, put them in a pan, and sprinkled them generously with salt, black pepper, and garlic powder.
 |
| From Smoky Chook |
I chopped up and onion and stuffed it into their little bottoms
 |
| From Smoky Chook |
Then they went onto the grill
 |
| From Smoky Chook |
You've heard me say it before: 90% of barbecuing is keeping a steady temperature. you want it to stay at or around 200F. The weather was windy and damp yesterday, and temperature was a slight challenge. But I gotta say, the mesquite really keeps a steady burn. Once I got it into the groove, it held a very steady temp for most of the six hours they were on the grill.
In this shot, the grill had just been open, so the thermometer's showing a little low. It caught back up quickly.
 |
| From Smoky Chook |
We brought them in after dark. The one on the right was a little torn up, as I managed to tear the skin when flipping them (I cooked them partly on their backs, partly on their breasts).
 |
| From Smoky Chook |
All in all, I'd call it a success.
Monday, October 19, 2009
That's Amore!
There's been some interest about our pizza-making adventures. When we moved out here, we quickly realized this isn't really pizza territory. We finally decided we needed to make our own. So at least once a week we whip up some pizzes. Ames took some photos of our pizza-making session last night, and I thought I'd sort of walk through how we did it, and what came out.
First a quick note. There are many styles of pizza, and there are excellent pies in every style. My personal favourite is "New York" style: the pies are large, but thin. The crust is thin and chewy, not crispy. This is the style I've been trying to perfect in our kitchen.
Start with the dough. Pizza crust needs to ferment at least overnight before trying to use it; so I always make the dough as early as I can. This weekend I used dough Sunday that I had made on Saturday, but I prefer to let it sit longer than that.
As I documented previously, I originally started with a recipe supposedly from Peter Reinhart. That works pretty well, but we've tweaked it a bit. So here's what I used this weekend:
It was raining on the weekend (in Washington? really?), so I used more flour than I normally do. Just for reference, I generally don't measure the flour. You need enough to make a sticky dough.
The dough was split into six pieces and put into plastic containers in the fridge.
The next day, I had to grate cheese, make sauce, and prepare toppings before cooking. I started with the cheese. Nothing special, just whatever was cheap at the store. I grated it in my Bosch Universal.
After the cheese came the sauce. Pizza sauce is best as simple as possible, at least for how we're using it. It shouldn't be cooked prior to the actual baking of the pizza, and should contain as few ingredients as possible. So here's my recipe:
This was a double batch:
I put all that into a tub and frap it with a hand blender until it's all mixed, but not totally pureed. It should still have some texture.
After the sauce, I prepared some simple toppings. I like cheese pizza best, but not everyone agrees with me. So last night we used pepperoni, Italian sausage, red onions, and mushrooms.
Now to make the pies...
We let the dough warm an hour or so before cooking. I shape it on a floured counter.
I used to cook the pizzas directly on the stone in the oven, but I've found it's very easy to mess them up, and the size of the pizza is limited to the size of the peel. So we got a couple 16-inch pans, and we've started to use this technique:
So here's a crust spread out on a 16-inch pan:
Once the dough's been spread, time to build the pizza:
We cook the pizza at 500F.
Having cooked the pizza thoroughly, we pull it out and slice it:
This crust wasn't quite right. The colour is a little pale on the edges. But the bottom looked great:
The next pie was a half-n-half: pepperoni on one side; pepperoni, sausage, onions, and mushrooms on the other. That's what Mama Lena's calls a "Coney Island":
And being 16-inch pies, they can be eaten properly: folded and eaten "taco style":
So that's how we do pizza here. Ames got some good pictures, didn't she?
First a quick note. There are many styles of pizza, and there are excellent pies in every style. My personal favourite is "New York" style: the pies are large, but thin. The crust is thin and chewy, not crispy. This is the style I've been trying to perfect in our kitchen.
Start with the dough. Pizza crust needs to ferment at least overnight before trying to use it; so I always make the dough as early as I can. This weekend I used dough Sunday that I had made on Saturday, but I prefer to let it sit longer than that.
As I documented previously, I originally started with a recipe supposedly from Peter Reinhart. That works pretty well, but we've tweaked it a bit. So here's what I used this weekend:
- 2 cups of sourdough starter
- 4 cups water
- 3 1/2 teaspoons salt
- 14 1/2 cups flour
It was raining on the weekend (in Washington? really?), so I used more flour than I normally do. Just for reference, I generally don't measure the flour. You need enough to make a sticky dough.
The dough was split into six pieces and put into plastic containers in the fridge.
 |
| From That's Amore |
The next day, I had to grate cheese, make sauce, and prepare toppings before cooking. I started with the cheese. Nothing special, just whatever was cheap at the store. I grated it in my Bosch Universal.
 |
| From That's Amore |
After the cheese came the sauce. Pizza sauce is best as simple as possible, at least for how we're using it. It shouldn't be cooked prior to the actual baking of the pizza, and should contain as few ingredients as possible. So here's my recipe:
- 4 whole peeled tomatoes from a can
- 1/4 teaspoon of sugar
- 1/4 teaspoon of salt
- enough oregano to see... I typically use 1 tablespoon
This was a double batch:
 |
| From That's Amore |
 |
| From That's Amore |
I put all that into a tub and frap it with a hand blender until it's all mixed, but not totally pureed. It should still have some texture.
 |
| From That's Amore |
After the sauce, I prepared some simple toppings. I like cheese pizza best, but not everyone agrees with me. So last night we used pepperoni, Italian sausage, red onions, and mushrooms.
 |
| From That's Amore |
 |
| From That's Amore |
Now to make the pies...
We let the dough warm an hour or so before cooking. I shape it on a floured counter.
|
| From That's Amore |
|
| From That's Amore |
I used to cook the pizzas directly on the stone in the oven, but I've found it's very easy to mess them up, and the size of the pizza is limited to the size of the peel. So we got a couple 16-inch pans, and we've started to use this technique:
- put the pie in the oven on a pan
- half-way through, when the crust is cooked enough to hold its shape, we slide the pie off the pan to finish on the stone
 |
| From That's Amore |
 |
| From That's Amore |
So here's a crust spread out on a 16-inch pan:
 |
| From That's Amore |
Once the dough's been spread, time to build the pizza:
 |
| From That's Amore |
 |
| From That's Amore |
|
| From That's Amore |
 |
| From That's Amore |
We cook the pizza at 500F.
Having cooked the pizza thoroughly, we pull it out and slice it:
 |
| From That's Amore |
 |
| From That's Amore |
This crust wasn't quite right. The colour is a little pale on the edges. But the bottom looked great:
 |
| From That's Amore |
 |
| From That's Amore |
The next pie was a half-n-half: pepperoni on one side; pepperoni, sausage, onions, and mushrooms on the other. That's what Mama Lena's calls a "Coney Island":
 |
| From That's Amore |
 |
| From That's Amore |
 |
| From That's Amore |
And being 16-inch pies, they can be eaten properly: folded and eaten "taco style":
 |
| From That's Amore |
So that's how we do pizza here. Ames got some good pictures, didn't she?
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
A grip on life
So my experiments with pizza have led into the wider realm of sourdough.
The offspring and I decided to get a good sourdough going after we realized that great pizza just might require sourdough. Our first attempt was to capture wild yeast on the counter. We tried to work with it, but it was a constant disappointment.
Our second attempt was a grape-based starter. The grape-based starter appears to be working. We made pizza first. This was our first no-dry-yeast pizza attempt, and it worked admirably.
(I know the first pizza picture is blurry: we had some camera issues that night, and I salvaged what I could.)
I decided to try bread after that, but my starter was sluggish. I ended up making a few loaves, but I cheated and spiked the dough with dry yeast. Still, they were decent:
I used a slight variation on the Berkeley Sourdough I found online. I found the recipe made an extremely dry dough, so I use more starter than they recommend, add the water and salt to it, and then knead in flour to form a decent consistency. The results seem pretty good.
I fed my sourdough again this weekend, and it got really foamy. So I started a new batch tonight. In fact, the sponge I made to get the bread going was foaming nicely enough that I made it into a dough much earlier than I had planned. I'm leaving the dough out on the counter overnight to rise. I'll see how it's doing in the morning.
I must admit I've been intrigued with the catalogue Sourdoughs International has online. I'm more than a little tempted to drop some cash on a starter from them. But frankly, I'm out $20 or so in flour and $5 in grapes right now, and that's produced a good deal of pizza and bread already. Part of my interest has been that this hobby is so cheap; I'm going to keep seeing what I can hack together in my kitchen before I start ordering more exotic starters online.
The offspring and I decided to get a good sourdough going after we realized that great pizza just might require sourdough. Our first attempt was to capture wild yeast on the counter. We tried to work with it, but it was a constant disappointment.
Our second attempt was a grape-based starter. The grape-based starter appears to be working. We made pizza first. This was our first no-dry-yeast pizza attempt, and it worked admirably.
(I know the first pizza picture is blurry: we had some camera issues that night, and I salvaged what I could.)
 |
| From Grip on Life |
 |
| From Grip on Life |
I decided to try bread after that, but my starter was sluggish. I ended up making a few loaves, but I cheated and spiked the dough with dry yeast. Still, they were decent:
 |
| From Grip on Life |
 |
| From Grip on Life |
I used a slight variation on the Berkeley Sourdough I found online. I found the recipe made an extremely dry dough, so I use more starter than they recommend, add the water and salt to it, and then knead in flour to form a decent consistency. The results seem pretty good.
 |
| From Grip on Life |
I fed my sourdough again this weekend, and it got really foamy. So I started a new batch tonight. In fact, the sponge I made to get the bread going was foaming nicely enough that I made it into a dough much earlier than I had planned. I'm leaving the dough out on the counter overnight to rise. I'll see how it's doing in the morning.
I must admit I've been intrigued with the catalogue Sourdoughs International has online. I'm more than a little tempted to drop some cash on a starter from them. But frankly, I'm out $20 or so in flour and $5 in grapes right now, and that's produced a good deal of pizza and bread already. Part of my interest has been that this hobby is so cheap; I'm going to keep seeing what I can hack together in my kitchen before I start ordering more exotic starters online.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
The First of September
Wow... we're already at the Ber Months! This year is speeding past far too quickly for me to keep up with it.
But regardless of my personal ineptitude, Happy Ber Months everyone!
But regardless of my personal ineptitude, Happy Ber Months everyone!
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Well, I'm back
I'm back on Vancouver Island. Again.
I never come to Canada, but I have to talk myself into going back across the border.
I never come to Canada, but I have to talk myself into going back across the border.
Friday, July 3, 2009
Pie!
It's no secret I love pizza. I tend to take Jeff Varasano's view of things: "Pizza is the most sensuous of foods."
North Carolina is not really a pizza state, but in the last decade a number of refugees from New York have brought good pizza with them. In fact, I had the pleasure of introducing at least three New Yorkers in Charlotte to good pizza. That is, I had the priviledge of pointing out that there was pizza in Charlotte made by a fellow ex-New Yorker. It was always a pleasure to see someone's face light up when they tasted "the first real pizza since I came here."
My three favourite pizza places in Charlotte were Luigi's Pizza in Steele Creek, Tony's Pizza in the Galleria, and Brooklyn Brothers in Concord. All three made amazing pies. At one time Mama Lena's would have topped the list, but since their move to Waxhaw, the quality seems to be lacking. Perhaps I got them on an off night: I hope so, because Mama Lena's used to be a thing of rare and exquisite beauty.
But since moving to the Northwest, we've been in a pizza wilderness, in einem trocken und duerren Land, da kein Wasser ist. I hear there is excellent pizza here, but I haven't found it. In fact, I took the trouble of visiting the one place in Seattle I had heard really made perfect pies, only to find out they're closed on Sundays. That was disappointing. Like journeying to Mecca only to find they've moved it.
To exacerbate the situation, there are a few foods I cannot prepare for the life of me. I can't make pancakes or pizza, among others.
So I finally realized no one else could save me, I had to save myself (how very Council of Trent of me!). I bit the bullet, googled some pizza dough recipes, and Ames and I have been trying to learn to make a good pie.
We started with a recipe ostensibly by Peter Reinhart. This recipe is a good one, but not perfect. We've been tweaking it a bit, largely inspired by Jeff Varasano's excellent pizza-making tutorial.
We followed Varasano's lead on the pizza sauce, and we've started to produce some decent pies. We're limited by an electric oven that only gets so hot and can only hold so big a pie, but we've made some that aren't too shabby.
It took a few to start getting them the right shape, so the first few were sort of ugly:
But Ames started making them nice, and was kind enough to give me some tips, so they got more and more round:
But she definitely still holds the record:
Our pizzas still aren't perfect, but we're working on it. Here are some of the tricks we've learned so far, which seem to have made some real difference in the quality of the finished product:
We'll never be able to fake the years of experience that Luigi and Tony have, but we're making better pies than we can get through Domino's or Papa John's. That's enough to make us want to make it again, every time.
Here's to good pie!
 |
| From Pizza |
North Carolina is not really a pizza state, but in the last decade a number of refugees from New York have brought good pizza with them. In fact, I had the pleasure of introducing at least three New Yorkers in Charlotte to good pizza. That is, I had the priviledge of pointing out that there was pizza in Charlotte made by a fellow ex-New Yorker. It was always a pleasure to see someone's face light up when they tasted "the first real pizza since I came here."
My three favourite pizza places in Charlotte were Luigi's Pizza in Steele Creek, Tony's Pizza in the Galleria, and Brooklyn Brothers in Concord. All three made amazing pies. At one time Mama Lena's would have topped the list, but since their move to Waxhaw, the quality seems to be lacking. Perhaps I got them on an off night: I hope so, because Mama Lena's used to be a thing of rare and exquisite beauty.
But since moving to the Northwest, we've been in a pizza wilderness, in einem trocken und duerren Land, da kein Wasser ist. I hear there is excellent pizza here, but I haven't found it. In fact, I took the trouble of visiting the one place in Seattle I had heard really made perfect pies, only to find out they're closed on Sundays. That was disappointing. Like journeying to Mecca only to find they've moved it.
To exacerbate the situation, there are a few foods I cannot prepare for the life of me. I can't make pancakes or pizza, among others.
So I finally realized no one else could save me, I had to save myself (how very Council of Trent of me!). I bit the bullet, googled some pizza dough recipes, and Ames and I have been trying to learn to make a good pie.
We started with a recipe ostensibly by Peter Reinhart. This recipe is a good one, but not perfect. We've been tweaking it a bit, largely inspired by Jeff Varasano's excellent pizza-making tutorial.
We followed Varasano's lead on the pizza sauce, and we've started to produce some decent pies. We're limited by an electric oven that only gets so hot and can only hold so big a pie, but we've made some that aren't too shabby.
It took a few to start getting them the right shape, so the first few were sort of ugly:
 |
| From Pizza |
But Ames started making them nice, and was kind enough to give me some tips, so they got more and more round:
 |
| From Pizza |
But she definitely still holds the record:
 |
| From Pizza |
 |
| From Pizza |
Our pizzas still aren't perfect, but we're working on it. Here are some of the tricks we've learned so far, which seem to have made some real difference in the quality of the finished product:
- The dough needs to ferment at least 24 hours before use. We're following the Reinhart method of fermenting it cold in the refrigerator, but I'm toying with the idea of an on-the-counter ferment.
- Varasano's auto-lysing advice is good: I've taken to throwing all the dough ingredients into the bowl and walking away for 20--30 minutes while they get to know one another.
- I've taken oil out of the dough: the dough is now flour, water, yeast, and salt. The oil makes the dough too brittle.
- We're making the dough a little wetter every time. We don't use the cake-batter-like dough that an 800F brick oven uses, but it's a lot more like custard everytime we make a batch. We have yet to get it too wet.
- We've thrown out all the fancy pizza sauce recipes and gone with Varasano's advice: we just blend some whole canned tomatoes, add some sugar, salt, and enough oregano to see, and spread it on. We never cook the sauce, and we make it as simple as we can.
We'll never be able to fake the years of experience that Luigi and Tony have, but we're making better pies than we can get through Domino's or Papa John's. That's enough to make us want to make it again, every time.
Here's to good pie!
 |
| From Pizza |
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
