On cucumber salad

Summer days call out for cucumbers.

The simplest way to serve them is sliced and plain, though a little bit of an infused olive oil and/or vinegar and/or fancy finishing salt rarely hurts. When I feel like putting in a little more effort, though, I turn to one of two cucumber salads.

If I'm making something particularly spicy, I peel, seed and chop two cucumbers and one mango, mixing them and tossing with chopped mint and squeezing the juice of half a lime over the whole collection. The sweetness tends to counteract whatever chili pepper-laden meat I'm serving this with.

The rest of the time, though, I go instead with a mixture of cucumber, oranges, minced red onion and mint. I keep meaning to try swapping out the mint for come cilantro, but there is no cilantro in my garden right now and the mint is storming across the lawn like the German Army through Belgium.

Both of these are quick to make, delicious, and, if you care about such things, free of carbs and fat. The organge version went well with cheeseburgers over the weekend and wouldn't be a bad accompaniment for London broil, while the mango version will pair extremely well with anything you make using the tandoori paste I posted last week.

Coffee-braised short ribs (again with pictures)

If you're like me, you'll probably think it's a bit warm out for this dish, and you'll want to hold on to this recipe for when it's a little colder. I'd call this the perfect Sunday lunch for mid-February, as the richness of the braised meat would fortify you against the cold while the coffee gravy would help carry you through the afternoon.

If you're like my wife, you're perfectly happy eating this in warmer weather, because you find the acidity of the coffee cuts the richness of the meat, making what would otherwise be a heavy dish perfectly balanced for a warm day.

(Photos by Kammie Dritschilo)

Either way, take note, there's going to be a full pot of coffee in your gravy boat. Caffeine's boiling point is 352 degrees, so you won't be cooking any of it off. The first time I made this, my wife and I were wide awake well into the evening.

I've been serving this over couscous, but rice or mashed potatoes would also do the job. For a vegetable, I'd recommend sliced cucumbers in the summer and, in the winter, perhaps glazed carrots.

Coffee-braised short ribs

• 5 pounds beef short ribs (give or take -- eight good-sized ribs will feed four)
• 1 pot of coffee
• 2 large or 4 small onions, peeled and thinly sliced
• about half a cup of heavy cream
• oil
• salt and pepper to taste
• water

Preheat the oven to 250

Pat the short ribs dry with paper towels and season them with salt and pepper. Brown the short in oil and set aside.

Sweat the onions in the pot, and add a splash of water, using a wooden spoon to scrape up and dissolve any brown crusty bits. When the onions are translucent, return the ribs to the pot with enough coffee to to come about halfway up the sides of the meat.

Bring to a boil, cover, and slide in the oven for six hours. If you want these done faster, you can cook them at 300 for about four hours.

When the time is up, remove the meat from the pot and set aside. The onions will have more or less dissolved. Add enough heavy cream that the liquid takes on a tan color, then cook on high, stirring, until it thickens and darkens again. I decided it was done when it looked like this:

Put the ribs atop the couscous (or rice or mashed potatoes) and drizzle some of the sauce over them.

Put the remainder of the sauce in a gravy boat (and save some for leftovers) and serve. Here's another look at the finished product:

Tandoori Paste

Tandoori chicken is one of my most favorite things ever. For years, if I was at an Indian restaurant with tandoori chicken on the menu, you would have a hard time convincing me to even think about ordering anything else.

When I first encountered commercial tandoori paste, it was barely a drive home later before I was making my own tandoori chicken, tandoori beef and tandoori whatever else was in the freezer.

I should probably say "tandoori-style whatever else was in the freezer," because "tandoori" does not actually refer to the spice mix. Well, it sort of does... Lemme explain.

A tandoor is an incredbily hot clay oven which is used in much of Asia, though I'd bet most Americans have only heard of them because of tandoori chicken. "Tandoori" means "of or pretaining to the tandoor" and generally refers to food cooked in one. "Tandoori masala" is a spice mix devised specifically for use in a tandoor, coming in regional and individual variations the same way barbecue rub does.

So, until the day I build a clay oven in the backyard (which is on my list of retirement projects somewhere between raising ducks for foie gras and starting one of those gourmet food trucks) when I call something "tandoori," I shall justify doing so because even though I'm not cooking it in a tandoor, I'm using a spice mix made for tandoors.

Which is probably like calling a braised pork shoulder "barbecue" because I coated it in Sweet Baby Ray's, but this is my blog and I'll do what I want!

The whole point of this post, though, is to talk about tandoori paste. While I'm not above using commercially prepared pastes, I can't get my hands on it as often as I'd like. So, when I have a tandoori hankering and no paste at hand, I turn to the following recipe. Readers of yesterday's post will already know where it came from.

The proportions were calculated to give you enough paste to coat a butterflied leg of lamb, and I have halved these amounts when cooking less ambitious meals. Lamb chops and duck breasts have both carried this paste to the grill with pleasing results.

Be warned, though, it is on the hot side -- probably hotter than you're used to if you have used commercial pastes. Adjust the cayenne as necessary.

Tandoori Paste

• 1/2 cup chopped fresh cilantro
• 1/4 cup minced ginger
• 1/4 cup minced garlic
• 1/4 cup ground cumin
• 1/4 cup cayenne pepper
• 2 tablespoons ground coriander
• 2 tablespoons ground cardamom
• 1 tablespoon ground cinnamon
• 1 tablespoon ground cloves
• 1/4 cup kosher salt
• 1/4 cup olive oil
• 1/2 cup plain yogurt

Combine all ingredients in a bowl and mix well.

Rub the mix all over whatever you're cooking in it and place in the refrigerator, covered, for one to three hours before cooking.

My Favorite Book on Grilling

"License to Grill" by Chris Schlesinger and John Willoughby (not to be confused with a similarly titled TV series starring Rob Rainford and accompanying books by Chris Knight) has what I like in a cookbook: a broad treatment of its subject and thorough attention to technique rather than simple lists of recipes.

I have mentioned the work of Schlesinger and Willoughby before (although, looking at that post now, I realize I need to make a correction: the tandoori paste is in License to Grill, not How to Cook Meat) and own several volumes by them, all of which I still consult. How to Cook Meat is their book that I use the most, but License to Grill definitely comes in second.

The book starts with an informative but easy-to-read rundown of fundamentals -- working with fire, tools, fuel, different grilling techniques.

The recipes get you thinking about the range of possibilities in grilling. Grilled food can find its way into soup -- such as a grilled corn chowder or a grilled gazpacho -- and an entire chapter is devoted to serving grilled food with pasta.

They even have a couple grilled desserts, though most of the recipes in the desserts chapter will send you back into the kitchen. Indeed, like any good book on grilling, they look beyond what you are grilling to discuss what to have with what you are grilling.

If you are into spicy food, you'll find kindred spirits in Schlesinger and Willoughby, who did an entire book on spicy recipes from around the world and titled a chapter in this one "Way Hot." They also suggest the occasional walk on the wild side -- I'd make the Grilled Buffalo Chicken Hearts without telling my wife what they were if I thought I could get away with it.

If all that sounds too weird, don't worry, there are plenty of tips for getting the most out of more familiar cuts of meat and fish.

If you want me to recommend one book on grilling and barbecuing, this is my pick.

Mushroom Tartelettes (now with photos!)

I don't know why savory pies aren't more of thing in this country, but they should be.

This particular creation grew from my increasing appreciation of mushrooms. I still don't much care for their texture, but really like the flavor when they get all minced up.

I cooked these, originally conceived as an hors d'oeuvre for a get-together my wife told me I was catering for, in a muffin tin with two-inch holes. The get-together did not happen, but I was so in love with the idea that I made them as an appetizer for dinner that weekend.

I used two kinds of fancy dried mushrooms, but you can make this dish alot more economical and cut out a step by using baby portobellas. Filling and dough may both be made in advance.

Here's a look at before they went into the oven, staggered in the tin to keep the crusts from overlapping:

...and here's the finished product, served with a hastily assembled baby spinach and bosc pear salad:

(photos courtesy of Kammie Dritschilo, who very sweetly put up with me going "Ooh! Ooh! Can you get it from this angle? What if we turn the plates this way? No, not like that!")

Mushroom Tartelettes

• 1/2 ounce dried porcini mushrooms
• 1/2 ounce dried chanterelle mushrooms
• 4 large shallots, peeled and minced
• 2 sprigs thyme
• butter
• Madeira
• balsamic vinegar
• salt and pepper
• one recipe of pie dough

Reconstitute and mince the mushrooms.

Cook the shallots in the butter until they begin to turn translucent, seasoning with salt and pepper to taste. Strip the thyme leaves from the stems and stir them in, then add the mushrooms and cook for another three or four minutes, stirring.

Add a generous splash of Madeira and a much lighter one of balsamic vinegar and continue to cook until the liquid is gone. Remove from the heat and set aside to cool.

Preheat the oven to 425.

Roll out the pie dough and use a coffee mug to cut six circles out to serve as crusts. Press the circles into the muffin tin, making sure to press the dough into the corners and to press down around the edges to make a lip. Spoon the filling into the shells and put in the oven.

I took these out after 12 minutes, but the bottoms weren't quite done. They were close enough, though, and 15 minutes will probably close the gap next time.

I found I had just enough filling and dough left over to make a pie pocket much like the leek and potato ones I recently posted about. My wife enjoyed that for lunch the next day.

Mustardy Cabbage and Leeks

I need to plant leeks this spring, because they have gotten entirely too expensive, and I'm not going to stop eating them.

This was a side-dish to go with some bratwurst during the Champions League final this weekend. Yes, I am one of those people who caters soccer matches based on the nationalities in play -- normally this is confined to drinks, but every now and then it extends to food. The brats were for Bayern-Munich, and I figured if I cooked cabbage (because what else do you serve with bratwurst) with leeks and Coleman's Dry English Mustard, I had Chelsea covered.

It came out exactly as I hoped (the cabbage -- I had mixed feelings about the game) and the leftovers were fabulous at lunch the next day.

Mustardy Cabbage and Leeks

• Three quarters of a very large head of cabbage (or all of a smaller one -- I'd already used one quarter for taco toppings and what I had left looked like plenty), cored and cut into ribbons
• Three leeks, white and tender green part only, roughly chopped
• 1 bottle of beer -- I used Warsteiner, which I would describe as a mild lager a bit on the hoppy side. I know, I probably tainted the Englishness by using German beer.
• 1-2 tablespoons dry mustard (like I said above, I used Coleman's)
• 2 cubes of pork stock
• 2 sprigs of thyme
• 2 cloves of garlic, peeled
• Butter
• Salt and pepper to taste
• Wine vinegar

Melt the butter in a wide, deep pan. Cook the leeks, seasoning with salt and pepper, until translucent. Add the mustard and thyme, grate in the garlic and then stir in the cabbage. Add the beer, stock and a splash of vinegar and stir well. Bring to a boil and then reduce heat to low, cover, and simmer for about an hour.

Uncover, discard the thyme and cook on high, stirring, until the liquid is almost gone.

Serve with grilled bratwurst, a nice hunk of bread and some good beer.

Take note of this and hang on to it for Halloween

Are you a "Game of Thrones" fan? If so, definitely read on. If not, you should really watch "Game of Thrones." You may still enjoy this, but there will be a big honkin' spoiler for the first season in it.

Do you have a taste for the macabre? If so, read on. If not, well, this post might not be for you. Continue at your own risk...

Still with me?

Cool!

I have recently discovered Not Your Momma's Cookie, where I could easily waste an entire afternoon. What brought me there, though, and what I cannot resist sharing with all of you, is the Ned Stark's severed head impaled on a spike cake pops.

Still with me?

Now, even if you don't give two hoots about "Game of Thrones," I see here the concept for the most awesome Halloween party treats ever. I can picture it now, the severed heads of my enemies distributed around my living room as a delicious warning to my party guests. Who's laughing, now, eh? BWAHAHAHA-

Er, um, anyway. I thought it was cool. Check out the rest of the blog, too.

Leek and potato pie

Have I really not posted since Monday?

Really, I have not. And, let's be honest, given the way the last couple weeks have gone I'd probably be dry now if I had posted over the last two days. So, now for a burst of activity to carry us through to the weekend.

I love a good meat pie, and was thinking along those lines a couple weeks ago when my dad was coming over for breakfast and to watch the Manchester United-Everton game, which should have sewn up the title for United, but no, they couldn't hold on to a two-goal lead...

Anyway, I had promised a large pile of bacon with whatever I came up with for breakfast. Meat pies and bacon seemed excessive, even for me, so this was my final plan. I made an individual pie pocket for each of us, but you could also put the dough and filling into a pie pan and have it by the slice.

Both pie dough and filling may be prepared the night before, which makes pre-meal assembly significantly faster and less stressful.

Leek and Potato Pie

• 1 recipe of pie dough
• 4 medium/smallish Russet potatoes, peeled and roughly chopped
• 4 leeks, white and tender green part only, trimmed and sliced
• 1 tablespoon dry mustard (I'm partial to Coleman's, which you can find at most grocery stores.)
• butter
• milk
• salt and pepper to taste

Saute the leeks in butter, seasoning with salt and pepper, until they begin to color.

Boil the potatoes until tender and drain. Add the leeks, a splash of milk, a bit more butter and the mustard and blend with a mash together. Toward the end, I used my hand blender to break up and more evenly distribute the leeks, but I made sure there were still some decent-sized leek chunks among the potatoes.

Taste and adjust seasonings, if necessary.

Let the filling cool before trying to form the pie pockets.

Roll out the pie dough. I used one of my smaller plates as a template and cut four circles out of the dough.

(What size? I don't know! Eight or nine inches, maybe?)

Prehead the oven to 425.

Put a large spoonful or two (eyeball it -- I wound up not using all the filling, so don't overstuff them trying to use it all up) of the filling in the middle of each circle and fold them over, pressing the edges together to make a seal.

Use a fork to press down on the seal and make those nice little marks along the edge. Then take a knife and cut three slashes in the top -- I went for a pattern where it looked like they were shooting out from the center, but it's up to you.

Put the pie pockets, cut-side up, on a lightly greased baking sheet and slide it into the oven. I started checking after 10 minutes and judged them done after 15.

Let cool and serve.

I ate the leftover filling a day or two later with a hunk of kielbasa.

This is my pie dough. There are others like it but this one is mine.

Well, not mine per se, but it's the one I use. It's going to come up now and then (and soon) so I thought it best to have a post to refer back to.

The recipe comes from "Au Pied De Cochon - The Album," which is the official cookbook of Montreal restaurant Au Pied De Cochon. It is a cookbook of the coffe-table variety, oversized with glossy pages and lavish illustrations, but still very useful. It supplied me with my formula for pickled tongue.

Pie Dough

• 1 stick (8 ounces) cold butter, cut into one-inch cubes
• 1 2/3 cups all-purpose flour
• 1/3 cup cold water
• 1 pinch fine salt

Mix the flour, salt and butter. I like to use a hand blender at first and then my Kitchenaid mixer with a paddle attachment, but you can also do it by hand or with a food processor. You want some tiny chunks of butter to remain in the flour, which will help make for a flaky crust.

Add the water and form a dough roll without working it too much. Let it rest in the refrigerator for at least two hours. This can also be frozen.

When you are ready to use the dough, roll it out to about an eighth of an inch and cut or form into desired shape. 

Eight ways to use leftover London broil

I almost like leftover London broil more than I like it freshly cooked. As promised, here are a few of the things I like to make with it:

1. As I have mentioned before: steak salad. Take three or four slices, cut into bite size chunks, and toss with your favorite salad stuff. My preference is baby spinach, sliced shallots and sun-dried tomatoes topped with whatever dressing I have on-hand -- last summer there was a peppercorn parmesan that I really liked.
2. Make a more Asian steak salad by using cabbage, bean sprouts and sesame seeds, dressing it with soy sauce, the juice of half and orange and just a tiny bit of fresh grated ginger.
3. Make steak tacos by chopping up some of the meat, tossing it with taco spices and heating it up in a little oil using a small pan or skillet.
4. Steak burritos are also quick and simple. Chop the London broil, wrap it up with whatever combination of cheese, beans, salsa, cabbage and/or guacalome appeals to you. You can eat it cold or heat it in the microwave or on the stove.
5. Hash
6. Sliced in a pita pocket with cucumbers and hummus. (And olives, if you're in to olives, which I'm not, but you might be.)
7. Chop up two or three slices and throw them into a bowl of beef ramen. Some bean sprouts wouldn't be out of place here, either.
8. Steak fritters. Substitute steak for the ham in this recipe and maybe add a little horseradish, you can call them roast beef and swiss fritters. If you want a Philly cheesesteak-esque fritter, use provolone instead of Swiss and maybe add a small amount of caramelized onions, peppers and/or mushrooms.