…culinary chronicles of taking that final moment to “taste for seasoning.”

Monday, May 25

Rhubarb Chutney

I made this recipe last summer. I remember it well because it was the weekend in July when I had just purchased an ice cream maker and was preparing to freeze the canister so I could get started with this cherry gelato recipe - and my freezer failed. It turned out that it had been melting down for a while, and the hot-as-heck weather that weekend just accelerated the liquification process. All this is just to say that I didn't trust my frozen rhubarb chutney, because it had been sitting in the door shelf of the freezer and sat there, never really freezing, for a couple of weeks. We had it once on the day I made it, but I ended up throwing the rest out.

I'm determined that this year will be different! We had this stuff over lamb last summer. Last night, I made it again and we had it over chicken breasts. I've got some lamb shanks in the fridge, and we will put the chutney to good use again with them tonight.

This recipe makes me think of Easter eggs, for two reasons: the color (bright pink - no lamb accompaniment has the right to exhibit such a flashy hue) and the smell (hot vinegar - you just don't smell that except when dyeing eggs at Easter).

I will say that although the recipe tells you to cook the rhubarb, green onions, and currants for only 4 minutes (before the rhubarb falls apart), you will also get fine results if you choose to just have the stuff simmer on the stove forever while you do other things, treating the chutney as more of a jam. That's what I did last summer, and I remember us saying, "Ooh, this is good." However, you do end up with a more beautiful and chunky mixture if you stop cooking when the recipe tells you to - that's how I did it this time.

I got the recipe from Epicurious - originally published in Bon Appetit in April 2003. A couple of modifications:
-It calls for 1 3/4 pounds rhubarb. This year, I only had three (long and slender) stalks, totalling about a pound, so I cut back on all the other ingredients a bit. The measurements seem very flexible.
- It calls for 1/2 teaspoon "(scant) ground cardamom." I love cardamom, and I had smoky black cardamom pods (further discussed in this posting) just burning a hole in my spice cabinet, so I threw a black cardamom pod into the mixture and discarded it when I took out the cinnamon stick. Here's a picture of the black cardamom. Just imagine a lovely smoky smell.


-Oh, also - you might notice in the picture below that my cinnamon stick is an Andre the Giant among its peers. I got it from one of those bags in the Hispanic foods section at the grocery store. They are very economical and seem to work well for savory foods that call for a little cinnamon flavor. Normally they have a heavenly scent of Mexican cinnamon, although this one seemed a little dried out at the beginning.

So, the recipe.

Ingredients:
-1 cup plus 2 tablespoons sugar
-1/2 cup red wine vinegar (you could also use apple cider vinegar - I looked at another recipe, very similar to this one, that uses apple cider vinegar instead)
-1 1/2 cinnamon sticks
1 1/2 tablespoons minced fresh ginger
1 1/2 teaspoons grated orange peel
1/2 teaspoon (scant) ground cardamom
4 1/2 cups coarsely chopped rhubarb (from 1 3/4 pounds rhubarb)
3/4 cup dried currants
4 green onions, chopped

Stir first 6 ingredients in heavy large saucepan over medium heat until sugar dissolves and mixture boils.


Add rhubarb, currants, and green onions; bring to boil. Reduce heat and simmer until rhubarb is tender but not falling apart, about 4 minutes.

Cool to room temperature. Discard cinnamon. Cover and refrigerate chutney until cold, at least 1 hour. [Carrina's note: or if you are impatient, just spoon out whatever portion you are going to use right away into a separate container, and stick it into the freezer until it is sufficiently jelly-fied for your taste. I think I put ours - about 1 cup's worth - in the freezer for about 15 minutes. It was fine.]
(Can be made up to 2 days ahead. Keep refrigerated.) Bring to room temperature before serving.

The chicken is slightly overexposed here, but you can still see the beautiful pink of the chutney.

Spumoni! (from Staccato Gelato)


Now granted, the only spumoni experience I have for comparison is that sweet spumoni that comes in the metal mini-goblet thing at the Old Spaghetti Factory. I even found a picture through Google Images confirming that my fond childhood memories of the "metal mini-goblet thing" are accurate. Behold:

"Old Spaghetti Factory: We treat you like mafia royalty."

Photo from blogtown.portlandmercury.com, 3/2008 review of the Old Spaghetti Factory's lunch menu - direct link to the review was taking five minutes to pull up, so I have given up on it. I will try back later to see if I can cite my source properly.

Anyway, I always loved the Spaghetti Factory's spumoni, and I still do. I'm so glad that my parents never told me (or that I never listened when they told me) that the three members of that alluring tri-color swirl were chocolate, cherry, and pistachios. Pistachios - most definitely a member of the nut family, and I declared war on that family around age 12 (Mom?) Pistachios got a brief early childhood exemption from this war because my cool aunt and uncle always had them hanging around, but eventually I lumped them in with all the other nuts I hated. Even now, I won't seek them out although I have no problem with them. But in spumoni, they're another story...

We used our Staccato Gelato 2-for-1 Chinook Book coupon yesterday. I can think of many sweets that I prefer to ice cream/gelato/sorbet, simply because ice cream is cold and hurts my teeth unless I eat it sideways. Staccato Gelato, however, has different flavors every time we go there, which means that while Mike goes to get his ice cream fix, I go to try out new flavors (past winners: Honey Lavender, Mojito, Rose Petal, Thai Iced Tea - yes, I am partial to the girlie foodie flavors. Check out their full list of flavors here, although you'll notice Spumoni isn't even listed, which implies that there may be other sleeper flavors that don't make it onto the official list).

We each got the second-smallest size, which still gets you up to three flavors if you so choose. Mike got Cherry Chocolate Chip, Creamsicle (tasted exactly like an Orange Julius if you ask me - not that I'm complaining), and something else. I got Spumoni, Spumoni, and Spumoni. And since I am writing this post about it, you already know that I loved it. The chocolate - oh so chocolatey - and not too sweet. The cherry - sweet and light, with little candied cherries mixed in every so often. And the pistachio - meaty and delicious.

The picture below is all melty, since we drove home with our gelato. Next time, I'll try to bring the camera along.


YUM! That is all.

Saturday, May 23

Noodle Bowl #4 - brown sugar-roasted green beans and celery

I don't feel like I've been in the kitchen any less than usual, but it seems like every time I reach for the camera to record the haps, it's either out of juice or MIA. Nevertheless, I've accumulated some acceptable pictures over month since my last posting, so here's my plan for hopping back on the weblog-wagon: immediately post 4 or 5 things that I made back in April, then rest on my laurels for another week until I feel like posting again (unless my camera is magically within reach and charged when I make this rhubarb chutney tomorrow - mmm... so good on lamb!)

So, here's another episode of "Pimp My Ramen" (hey, I kind of like that...). This time around, I had some old leathery green beans and just a teensy bit of baby celery, from the very inside of the group of stalks.

I smashed the heck out of some ginger, as is my routine... (mainly sharing this picture because my Ikea meat mallet looks like something out of one of my husband's role-playing games):

I tossed the celery and green beans in some vegetable oil, brown sugar, salt, and five-spice powder... (green beans not shown here)


...and roasted them at 450 for a few minutes - until I could tell that they'd been roasted, but they weren't blackened or anything.

...Stuck them in with the already-simmering water/chicken broth combo (the smashed garlic, ginger, and a star anise have already made it into the broth at this point as well)

...And from here, it's just a matter of following the instructions of Maruchan or Top Ramen, depending on who was on sale last time I stocked up: Boil noodles for three minutes, and serve!


No, we don't actually eat on the windowsill. It's just the only place in the apartment with good light.