The joy of a well-stocked spice cabinet

Some of my friends and I recently had a conversation about the cost effectiveness of cooking. There is a prevalent belief out there that cooking at home saves you oodles of money. Yes and no.

The major expense comes in the upstart costs of stocking your kitchen cabinets, especially when you have a palette for exotic dishes from dozens of different ethnic styles.

There is a distinct satisfaction, however, when you start accumulating so many of these ingredients - namely spices - that you have them on hand and don't have to be buying new ones with every recipe. That's when your grocery bills really start to plummet.

Even just two months into this little game, I am finding that I have built myself a sturdy arsenal of spices and am getting to the point I don't need to buy any. Take, for example, the pho I made this week. I had most of the spices I needed, along with the onions, garlic and some other veggies. I ended up spending just $25 at the grocery store - most of that on meat - and will likely get five days worth of dinners.

Now that's what I call cost efficient.

Appreciation

One of the things about cooking is that it really helps you appreciate the art of coming up with a good recipe.

Take, for example, cooking something out of From Emeril's Kitchen, which features recipes from his restaurants. Most of the recipes are extremely nuanced and complex. Not difficult, per say. Just extremely detailed, right down to making a veal stock for the Creole Meuniere Base that goes with a number of recipes.

Same goes for Bobby Flay's Mesa Grill cookbook. One recipe for a habanero duck pancake requires three different sauces, at least one of which requires you to make a completely different sauce. Oh. And the duck recipe also calls for chicken stock. But no worries. The recipes for all of these sauces and stocks are in the cookbook.

To think these guys have people doing this every day at their restaurants.

I have had several moments of zen appreciation preparing some of the recipes for this blog, particularly when it comes to the detail that goes into working with certain ingredients. The pho was definitely an example of this.

I mean, come on. Simmering a broth for 10 hours? Who ever thought of that?

There were a few things with the pho recipe I found suspect, so while I was waiting for the broth to finish I did some research. It seemed as far as basic technique goes, and ingredients for the most part, Emeril was right on.

The big thing that kept tripping me up was the accumulation of what seemed to be copious amounts of fat in the broth, especially after I put it in the fridge. A thick, jelly-like substance layered across the top of it.

It seemed like my takeout from Vietnamese restaurants had done the same thing, but it still bothered me. I thought maybe using the short ribs was a bad idea. Other recipes I found suggested ox tail, which might have been leaner. I had also skipped draining the broth through the cheese clothe the first night, so I reheated it to do this and that did seem to skim some of the stuff out of it.

Some more research indicated that there might not be anything wrong with my broth. Apparently the gelatin-like substance is not actually fat, but collagen from the bones you boil. That made sense. Some Vietnamese people will let their pho broth sit over night and then scrape the layer off the top before serving. Others apparently keep some of it on hand to add in extra for flavor.

Either way, at some point there was clearly a lot of thought put into this issue, which I can appreciate.

Vietnam: Pho, Part II

The first time I ate Vietnamese food I was a freshman in college.

A group of us from the college newspaper, The Daily Orange, had driven down to Washington, D.C. to cover some protests at the IMF and World Bank. This was on the heels of the big World Trade Organization protests that year in Seattle.

We traveled a lot at The D.O., and those trips are among some of my best college memories, despite the fact you always ended up with an eclectic mish mosh of personalities with nothing in common except for a passion for journalism.

It seems like there were five of us on that trip, driving the five or so hours together from Syracuse, NY and crashing at a Super Eight motel just outside of Washington. We packed so many people in those rooms that somebody always got the floor. I'm not sure how I got through my four years there never having that privilege.

We registered as credentialed members of the media and met up with some kids from SU, spending the better part of the day traipsing around Washington following these peace-loving activists.

The most vivid memory I have of that day was walking with this group of 20 or so protesters as they stopped outside of the World Bank building. All of the sudden, about three times as many police in riot gear appeared and came charging at us. Protesters started running everywhere and the riot police went after them.

For some reason it seemed like a good idea to pull this reporter I was with into a little alcove of a building we were standing in front of to get out of the fray. But one of the riot police saw us there, came up and pointed his gun of pepper spray right at us.

"We're with the media," I yelled, holding up my press credentials.

"I don't care," he said, dousing us with pepper spray.

I guess it could have been worse. I watched one of the guys we were with get clubbed by another officer. But the thing that really sucks about pepper spray is that after the initial sting, it calms down, but reactivates when it gets wet.

Then it started raining.

We kept moving forward though, tired, wet and burning, following the protesters around Washington and covering the story. I don't remember how we did it or when, but at some point we must have filed something.

I don't think we ate all day, and at the end of many hours out and about we all agreed to meet up on M Street. Somehow we ended up at this Vietnamese buffet.

It was a small buffet, no bigger than a typical kitchen table. I don't remember what I ate. All I remember is that everything was amazing. There was just something about the the wholesome warmth of the flavors that I found so comforting after all this drama. Besides, I was really hungry.

I fear my pho pales in comparison to my memories of this first Vietnamese experience. The broth seems to greasy, despite my efforts to skim the fat from it. The short ribs were probably a bad call. Some other recipes called for ox tail.

Still, for some reason as I sat on the patio last night smelling the aroma of the beef stock brewing with the scent of the onions and anise it brought back all these memories.

I guess it's one of those things I may never know whether that Vietnamese place was really that good, or if it was the moment that made the memory.

Vietnam: Pho

So I cheated again this week, but for good reason. As previously noted, I've been feeling a little under the weather and was craving a hot, soothing, yummy soup to make me feel better.

At some point this week I found myself craving Vietnamese soup, the spicy liquid being a perfect remedy to clear your sinuses. I hit Pho Cali on Main Street and had the beef stew (which is actually more like a soup) that I love. It made me feel so much better that I decided this weekend I would make my own version of the national dish of Vietnam, Pho.

I searched Food Network and found this recipe for "Emerilized" Banh Pho Bo, Vietnamese beef noodle soup. Emerilized sounded pretty good to me, so I figured I had a winner.

I went back and forth a few times on whether to actually try this today, given that it would take six hours to cook the broth. Would it really be worth the wait to eat it? Please reference "Emerilized." Yes. Yes I decided it would be.

The recipe calls for a meaty bone, and I decided to go with short ribs. I also don't have a grill, so I just stuck the onion stuffed with anise under the broiler until it got blackened. The best thing about this dish is the smell of the anise as it boils on the stove for six hours. It made my kitchen smell amazing!

I threw a few serrano peppers in as the broth cooked just to, well you know, kick it up a notch.

But I got a late start to all this, and with three hours left to simmer the broth at 6:30 I started to come to the realization that this wouldn't be ready for dinner. Once the broth is done, there's all sorts of other things that needed to get done. And quite frankly, I was pretty tired.

So the plan at this point is to let the broth boil some more, and then finish the pho off for dinner tomorrow.

To be continued ...

Hungary: Goulash

I cheated again this week. I just picked a country that I felt like, instead of pulling one out of the wine bag of fun. This weekend, I felt like a tasty goulash. There was just something about the lure of a meat and pasta one pot dish that I found enticing.

The last time I made Hungarian goulash someone asked me how it is different from regular goulash. I don't think it is. Goulash originated in Hungary, where it was traditionally prepared by herdsmen (gulyas in Hungarian ... thus the name goulash). So I guess that's why some people call their goulash Hungarian. I suppose it's like saying Italian pasta. Perhaps unnecessary...

Either way, goulash is a soup or stew typically made with beef, veal or lamb, vegetables and paprika. The paprika is the distinguishing ingredient. Some variations have it served over pasta.

I poked around the Internet for new recipes and they all looked pretty similar so I decided to go with this Rachael Ray recipe I had made before. It seems to have all of the traditional elements and when I tried it the last time it was, as Rach might say, delish.

Traditionally, the goulash may be made with tougher cuts of meat, like the shank or shoulder. I guess that gives it a richer flavor. This one calls for ground meats, which are a little easier and quicker to work with.

I followed the recipe for the most part, with a few exceptions. I added an extra onion, and cooked the onion in the pot before adding the meat to give the meat extra flavor while cooking. I also seasoned the meat with the salt, pepper and paprika - about twice as much as the recipe called for - before cooking because I thought it gave it more flavor. Oh, and I added about a tablespoon of cayenne pepper to give it some heat.

I also probably used about half the macaroni and a fraction of the sour cream. The last time I made it the sour cream flavor kind of overpowered everything else, so this time I just gradually added it in to the mix, probably using about half as much. Same goes for the macaroni.

After I mixed everything together I let it sit on the stove for a while so the macaroni could absorb the juices and flavor from the stew. The garnishes may seem odd, but I do recommend the gherkin pickles and radishes. The crunchy texture is a nice contrast to all of the softness of the goulash.

Coming to terms with reality ...

I've made the executive decision this week to officially change the name of the blog to reflect the reality I won't get through all of the countries in 80 days. You may notice it now says "80-Some."

The whole Jules Verne thing was clever and all, but just not realistic. The characters in the book must not have had full-time jobs or friends to hang out with. Who knows. I never read it.

Either way, the point of the project was to be fun, not stressful. Besides, don't we all have enough deadlines anyway? And, being in a deadline driven industry, I know exactly how you really handle one that can't be met. You push it.

So who knows when this will all wrap up. I'm hoping I'll still finish within a year of when I started. But you just never know what will happen ...

A day without a recipe

If you're one of those people constantly glued to the Weather Channel, you probably know that it's been really freaking hot in Florida. Hot and humid. The kind of heat that makes you sweat as soon as you step out of your apartment. The kind of humidity that just weighs down your body and soul, making you feel worn out and tired.

The kind of weather that you can put up with for a few months, but that you're ready to see break around the time everyone else in the country is out looking for pumpkins.

Well, thank God for FINALLY sending some relief to Florida.

This weekend we're experiencing what we Floridians call a "cold front." I don't think the temperature dropped below 70 all day, but that's cold after months enduring temperatures upward of 90. (Although not cold enough that I couldn't go for a little swim ... quite lovely because I was the only one there. Apparently the children who usually inhabit the pool on the weekend aren't so hardy).

Either way, I was having such a lovely time drinking my morning coffee on the patio, looking out over my little retention pond without breaking a sweat I thought "Wouldn't it be great to just spend the whole day like this?"

So I did. Well minus some time for the workout and the swim.

Maybe it was also the universe's way of getting me to slow down a little. As I sat on the patio, I thought back on the past few months and realized not a weekend day has passed that I didn't spend much of my time in the kitchen, quite often much of the day pursuing ambitious recipes under a tight deadline of expecting company.

So today I relished in the art of just laying low, catching up on some magazines and chilling on the patio. Besides, it was also a good opportunity to finish off one of the backlog of dishes in my freezer - the Comoros chicken from a few weeks ago.