The Impatient Chef and the Art of the Martini

The Impatient Chef and the Art of the Martini

James Bond has it wrong.

All Great Martinis Have Halos, Really.

The Impatient Chef is right.

The Impatient Chef loves martinis, that's why he had to quit drinking.  But, still, the art of the martini is unchanging, and if done right, is absolutely delicious.  I want to begin by saying that if your shaken, vodka martini floats your boat, you have my blessing to keep doing what you love.  I merely seek to bend your ear to the joys of gin, vermouth and olives, and, hopefully to broaden your horizons.

Stirring vs. Shaking.

There is a rule about clear drinks versus cloudy drinks with a fruit juice base.  Clear equals stirred, cloudy equals shaken.  Some mythology exists about why this is necessary.  I have heard folks say that one doesn't shake the martini because it "bruises" the gin.  Methinks the scientific method was not employed for this hypothesis.  There is, however, a taste difference between a shaken martini and the stirred martini.  The shaken martini tastes slightly harsher.  I did a comparison a couple years ago where I used the same amounts of gin, vermouth and ice by weight.  I shook one, and stirred one.  There was a definite difference in taste.  I have to say that I liked the stirred drink better.  Shaking aerates the drink, and adds more water.  To me, it tastes slightly harsher.  These are the only differences.  I weighed both drinks after mixing.  And then I drank them both.

Vermouth.

I like a dry martini.  A "dry" martini is not named for dry gin, which usually comes in the form of London Dry Gin, but a Portland Dry Gin style has emerged as of late, which is quite tasty.  "Dry" or "wet" martinis are based on the amount of vermouth in the drink.  Winston Churchill was famous for his love of the martini.  Apocryphally, he said once upon a time that he liked a very dry martini, where you fill a glass with gin, show it the bottle of vermouth, and drink the gin.

I prefer a small amount of vermouth in a martini.  I just fill a bar spoon high enough to let it drip over the edges just a tad.  That's enough.

I use(d) good vermouth.  If it costs less than $15.00 per bottle (give of take a couple), it tends to be a why bother.  My vermouth of choice was Dolin dry.

Gin.

This is where I plant my feet.  If you use vodka, it's not a martini.  You may drink it, and you may love it, but it's a different drink.  Your martini will only be as good as the gin you buy.  Here are some of my favorites:

Tanqueray London Dry
New Deal Gin 33
New Deal Gin # 1
Brokers London Dry
Joe Penney's Gin (McMenamin's)
Aria Gin
Boodles
Tanqueray 10
Big Gin
Small's Gin
Beefeater 24
Gomper's
Big Bottom

I like a hit of juniper, and botanicals that don't overpower everything.  If you don't like a gin martini, try a better gin.  If you want to drink one at a bar, never let them use the well gin.  If you really like vodka, start with New Amsterdam gin, or even Hendricks if you have deep pockets, and branch out from there.  New Amsterdam is a "smooth" gin.  It's goes light on the juniper, and has a clean taste.  It's like gin with training wheels.

Beware of gins called "genever" if you are just starting out.  These are a case of old-style gins.  The best known of these are Bols, and Aviation.  If you are trying a martini for the first time, or switching from vodka, genever gins won't be your friends.  They work best in fruity drinks.

Old Tom Gins are another acquired taste.  They work well in certain drinks, but not in martinis.

Olives.

A martini is garnished with olives.  They will have pimentos.  

Dirty Martinis

Ew.

Discovery

Martinis can be multi-faceted drinks with a variety of flavors based on the gins and vermouths you choose.  If you don't like one gin, or the one the bartender used because his boss wants him or her to cheap out, try a few more.  It took me a long time to settle on my favorites, and I ran into some duds along the way.

My introduction to the martini happened in Port Townsend, Washington about 8 years ago.  I ordered one at a restaurant because I wanted to know what was all the fuss.  I wouldn't say I was enamored by it, but I was intrigued.  There was a hint of something more in there, and I wanted to discover what that was.  It turned out that the gin they used was Gordon's.  First bought Bombay Saphire, then Beefeater, and then Boodles.  I liked Boodles more than the rest.  Then I started trying local gins from Portland.  New Deal Distillery stands out as an early favorite.  I often made a martini where I mixed both Boodles and New Deal Gin 33 with the vermouth.

Then, I discovered McMenamin's Joe Penney's Gin.  It completely revolutionized my view of the martini.  It has a massive flavor, and isn't for the faint of heart.  It, along with New Deal Gin 33, and Small's, is a style known as Portland Dry.  These tend to be juniper forward, and rich with botanicals. After trying Joe Penney's, I began seeking out bigger flavors.  I tried Tanqueray, finally ignoring early-on advice to avoid it, and liked it a lot.  It too has a big flavor, although not quite as big.

Should you choose to branch out into martinis as they were meant to be, be adventurous.  Seek out new gins, and new vermouths.  Go boldly.  Sip with gusto.

Cheers!

The Impatient Chef.

The Impatient Chef Recipe: Grandma's Pumpkin Pie

Grandma's Pumpkin Pie

This, ladies and genlemen, is literally, with the exception of the crust, my grandmother's pumpkin pie recipe.

The Pie!

Ingredients:

Pumpkin Mixture:

2 Cups Cooked Pumpkin  – cooked until soft, pureed.

1 Cup Granulated Sugar

1 Cup Brown Sugar

5 Eggs

1 Tbsp Ground Cinnamon

3 Tbsp Flour

1/4 Cup Butter

1/2 Tsp Salt

1 Qt milk

16 oz Whipping Cream

I like to use Pennsylvania Dutch Crookneck Squash when I can find it in the wild west, which is exactly twice in 27 years.  Cut it, de-seed it, cube it, butter it, bake it until fork tender.  Cool.  Cut away the rind, and puree it.  Done.  You can use other pumpkins, of course.  

Pie Crust: 

10 1/2 oz All-Purpose Flour

1/4 cup Vegetable Shortening (I substituted lard)

1 1/4 tsp salt

10 tbsp unsalted butter, chilled

6 to 8 tablespoons ice cold water.  

Make the Pie Crust First.  

Which One Doesn't Fit? 

The Crust:  I used King Arthur Flour’s stand mixer recipe.  It’s very good.  

Since the pumpkin recipe makes 3 pies, you can make this recipe twice, and keep a dough ball for later. 

A note about the above picture:  The chicken is there purely for humor.  There are no chickens in the pie.

Directions: 

Cube the butter, and stow it in the freezer.  I start with refrigerated butter.  In a 1 cup measure, add ice and water.  You want 8 tablespoons of ice-cold water when the dough is ready.  

Add the flour, the shortening, and the salt to the mixer bowl.  Mix the ingredients on the 2 setting using the beater attachment.  You are trying to get an evenly crumbly mixture.  

Mixin' It Up.

When the right crumbly is achieved, add the chilled, cubed butter.  Beat on speed 2 again until the mixture is crumbly, this time unevenly (the recipe calls for dime-sized chunks of butter).   Then, add the water, one tablespoon at a time until the mixture becomes a cohesive dough ball.  The last time I made this, it only took 3.  Don’t mix it more than necessary!  For more nuance on this crust, visit the site I linked above.  

Divide the dough into two balls.   Roll them out until they’re about 3/8 inch thick.  Place them on parchment paper in the fridge.  Cool them while you mix the pumpkin ingredients.  

Rollin' Rollin' Rollin'

Once ready, roll them out, and cover the pie pans.  Pre-bake them for 10 minutes at 350º.  It’s a good idea to use parchment paper and pie marbles, or beans to weigh them down during the pre-bake.

Next, make the pumpkin mixture.  Note: the squash in the picture is not a crookneck.  Consarnit!  

The Surrealist Chef?

Simply beat all ingredients together, saving the milk and cream till last.  I use hand mixture, but an immersion blender would work as well.  

Mixin' it Up

Fill the shells with the pumpkin mixture.

Bake for 10 minutes at 450º, and then at 350º until brown on top, and a toothpick comes out clean.  

Serve.  Top with whipped cream.  

Enjoy!

The Impatient Chef.

The Impatient Chef Cocktail Recipe: The Scuzzy Navel

Cocktail Recipe: The Scuzzy Navel

One evening a few years ago, I turned a Tragedy into a Comedy (as in greek theater) while  mixing a cocktail.  I started making a gin & tonic, which was becoming a favorite evening sip due to having found a couple decent tonic waters.  In the days when Schweppes and Canada Dry were the only ones around, the venerable G&T was a ho hum.  I use either Fever Tree (not named after the 1960’s San Francisco one-hit wonder), and Q (which you have to pronounce as though you are Captain Jean Luc Picard calling out a pesky omnipotent alien on Star Trek: The Next Generation).  The Tragedy occurred when I realized that I had no tonic water after having added the lime juice to 2 shots of Aria Gin.  

Notes on Tragedy: 

Webster’s Unabridged New Twentieth Century Dictionary (1967 Edition) defines Tragedy as “A serious play having an unhappy ending brought about by characters or central character impelled, in ancient drama,  by fate or, more recently, by moral weakness, psychological maladjustment, or social pressure.”  Now, there is one aspect of tragedy that Webster’s left out.  The tragic figure, be it Oedipus, King Lear, or any one of a king named Henry, is often hoisted by his own petard.  In other words, he, and sometimes she, is the author of his undoing due to a character flaw.  My tragic flaws are that I am impatient, and forgetful.

So, not feeling like a Lear, Henry, or (egad) Oedipus, and necessity being the brother of invention, I set off to salvage my gin.  This is where Tragedy turned to Comedy.  A short perusal of the medicine closet led me to concoct the following:

3/4 oz fresh squeezed lime juice,

2 oz gin (Portland Dry style or a juniper forward gin),
1/2 oz Cointreau,
2 dashes Peychaud's Bitters,
2 dashes Benedictine,
1/2 oz white rum (I used Cannon Beach Distillery's rum),
Shake with ice.  Serve in a chilled cocktail glass.

Notes on Gin:

Seek out local spirits if you have a craft distillery scene in your area.  In Oregon, we are blessed with some really outstanding distilleries: New Seal, Ransom, Eastside Distilling, Clear Creek, McMenamin's, and Martin Ryan to name a few.

The Peychaud’s Bitters turned this drink pink.  Supposedly, men don’t like pink cocktails.  Personally, I don’t care, but I needed a name that would overcome the pinkness, and yet seem familiar.

Tragedy became Comedy, and my new drink became The Scuzzy Navel.  The rest is history.

Notes on Comedy:  

The Oxford English Dictionary defines Comedy as “A play characterized by its humorous or satirical tone and its depiction of amusing people or incidents, in which the characters ultimately triumph over adversity.”  Perhaps Carol Burnett said it best: “Comedy is tragedy plus time.”

Time, of course, triumphs over everything, so enjoy the moment.  Have a cocktail.  

A list of good gins for this drink:

Aria Gin

Joe Penney’s Gin by McMenamin’s Edgefield

Big Gin

New Deal Gin 33 (my top choice)

The mocktail version for those who don't drink:

Juice of 1 lime
5 dashes Peychaud's Bitters
3 dashes orange bitters
1 oz simple syrup (or to taste).
Shake with ice. Add 3 oz tonic water, and swirl briefly.  Serve in a chilled cocktail glass.

Cheers! 

The Impatient Chef.

The Impatient Chef's Anatomy of a Salad

Not much can really be said about salads that hasn't already been said.  So I won't say much.  Just get good ingredients.  Don’t be afraid to experiment with the dressing.  This time I used a Middle Eastern    herb mixture called za’atar.  Lemon juice, of zest is good as well.  For oil and vinegar dressings, use good olive oil, and vinegar.  You don’t want to use Wesson and Heinz.  Pickled veggies also go well.  Intrepid readers may remember my PA Dutch Red Beet Eggs post.  I often employ them in a salad or ten. Most of all, use fresh ingredients.  Enjoy.

Note: Using an Irish Coffee cup for the dressing, as I did, could lead to a big surprise.  It’s best to not sit your tea next to it.  

The Impatient Chef, and The Quest for Wings

The Quest for Wings, Scene 1, Rivertap 

The Fish & Chips were good, so why not.

On the heels of some disappointing chicken wings at a most ignoble national chain, I set off with Lady Gaia to attempt recompense in yonder The Dalles, which resideth in Columbia-in-Gorge, upon the most high Oregon, whereupon the we sateth down for what we hoped would be true Buffalo Wings of the most high order.

And order we did!

I reviewed Rivertap's fish and chips a short while ago, and readers may remember that I recommended them as being a 7 on the Rose and Thistle scale.  So, I wanted to see how good their wings were.  Since we were heading that way for other business, why not give the wings a try?

Rivertap's food is generally decent.  There are some standouts, as well as some navel-gazing dishes that cause a cocked head, mouth hanging open, "whut?" kind of response upon first reading them in the menu, but turn out to be pretty tasty as well.

Needless to say, we ordered the wings as an appetizer.  We also ordered the heavenly (I'm salivating, can't help it) Bacon-Wrapped Yukon Golds, and the soup and salad.

So, what about the wings?

Buffalo, Here We Come!

At first blush, the wings looked a little dry.  I usually find that the best wings gush with the sauce, which oozes all over the plate.  My first test was to tap on one with a fork.  I don't mind the skin being a little soft, but I don't go for rubbery.  The skin was firm.  Okay.  I'll take that as long as the meat is tender.  I then picked one up, and, as one must, dunked it in the dressing, and took a bite.  I was pleasantly surprised at the robust flavor for so little sauce.  Would I have liked more sauce?  Yes.  There was a little depth missing with the light touch.  Still, there was certainly some garlic, and hot sauce in the mix.  Also, the meat was indeed tender.  All in all, we both felt that the previous day's descent into the Seventh Circle of Wing Inferno (without Dante as a guide) left a little less sting on the palate after the napkins were exhausted.

Next came the Spuds.

You want these.  

I talked about these in my Rivertap Fish & Chips review, so I will say merely that they are to appetizers what Plato's description of the male and female's need to reunite in one body was to stone-age porn.  Once you have eaten of the fruit, you will claw your way across burning coals to get more.

The rest seems anti-climactic.

Pun intended.

The soup and salad came last.

Zoop!

Zalad

The soup was chicken noodle.  The use of shells for noodles was unique, and the flavor was chickeny.  It wasn't a standout, but it wasn't bad.

The salad was a salad.  It was fresh.  The dressing was balsamic.  It was good.  Who can ask for more?

And so, as the sun set quite literally on the first leg of our Quest for Wings™, I can report that the day's journey came to a goodly end, and Lady Gaia and Sir Chef (The Impatient) arrived at the inn, and stabled the coconuts.  All was well.

The Impatient Chef Should Have Known Better

The Impatient Chef Should Have Known Better

'Twas a Saturday in the town of Portland in the state of Oregon that my wife and I were in need of Buffalo Wings, and a fateful, and rueful, decision was made. More on that in a bit.  First, a few words about Buffalo Wings.

1.  Buffaloes don’t have wings.  
2.  The word “wings” in large, illuminated letters on the restaurant is no guarantee of deliciousness.
3.  Buffalo Wings are messy.  Bathroom paper towels on rolls don’t cut it.   

We were heading out of town when the subject of lunch was broached.  Gaia wanted wings. I tried to remember a nearby place that had them, and all I could think of was a place in Gresham, which is a suburb of Portland (but don't tell them that) which I will call “Wing Slop” so as not to use their actual name.  A place that specializes in wings must have at least passable wings, right?  This is an assumption that you, dear reader, may already have guessed, put the “terror” back into terrible. 

Really, Impatient Chef?  You can do better than "Wing Slop."  

We ordered 3 types: Original Hot, Garlic Parmesan, and Spicy Korean BBQ.  Of the first type, Original Hot, the taste was the best of the bunch.  They were spicy, and seemed almost like Buffalo Wings.  The Bleu Cheese dressing wasn't bad, either.  They weren't the best wings, but they weren't he worst I've had, but everything went downhill from there.  

I would suspect that Spicy Korean BBQ (given its name) should actually be spicy, and should not be cloyingly sweet.  I've had Korean BBQ.  I like Korean BBQ.  Korean BBQ these things ain't.  I can picture LLoyd Benson saying that to Dan Quayle right now.  You of tender years won't get that, but Google is your friend.

The last was the Garlic Parmesan.  There was parmesan cheese on it.  That, at least, they got right.  The garlic was sorely missing, as to be absent, and NOT THERE AT ALL.  The nugget-like exterior concealed a tasteless interior, that masked (just barely) a half-hearted attempt to produce lackluster food-rocks that an eight-year-old me with a sling shot would have really enjoyed.  

So, why am I telling you this?  To introduce "The Quest for Wings™."  In the coming months, I will attempt to find The Holy Grail of wings in Northwestern Oregon.  My search has already begun at Rivertap in The Dalles.  Stay tuned as Lady Gaia, and Sir Chef (The Impatient) bang our coconuts together, carry plenty of napkins, and seek the most holiest of morsels.  Onward!

The Impatient Chef Makes Real Fruitcake for the Holidays.

The Impatient Chef Recipe: Dark Fruitcake.

Fruitcake has been a perennial Favorite around the Christmas holiday for a very long time.  One can imagine 10th century knights in Britain defending their castles from the invading Normans by lobbing these dense, oversized hockey pucks from the ramparts. One can imagine Marco Polo using one to weight down his pasta recipe as the guests gather in the Plaza, or even Queen Victoria bashing her Viceroy aside the noggin with one to teach him a lesson.  But to eat one?  Surely you jest.  The fruitcake has made the rounds, quite literally, as Christmas presents, being regifted year after year until some poor schmuck finally turns the thing over and sees the worn printing on the box "Best if enjoyed before 10/1/1963."

And yet, here we are.
There is fruitcake, and then there's FRUITCAKE!  We will make the latter.

The Real Deal

The recipe is called Dark Fruitcake because long ago, when elves and hobbits roamed the earth...  No, wait.  Wrong story.  The recipe is called Dark Fruitcake because it uses very little flour as a percentage of the mix, and it is soaked in brandy.  This leads to a darker, fruitier, moister, less brick-like cake.  So, set aside the preconceptions, and especially the candied cherries, and follow along.

This recipe comes from my wife's family from waaaaaaaay upstate New York, so far upstate that it's practically Canada.  We have modified it slightly to fit a more modern palate.

The Recipe

First decide how many cakes you want to bake, and start by gathering the ingredients.  You can use different fruits and nuts if you like.  Just retain the same weights.  This year we used dried dates, figs and plums, and omitted the pineapple and currants.  We also used less raisins and added some dried blueberries and cranberries instead.  Finally, we used mixed nuts instead of only almonds and pecans.

Ingredients: 

Ingredient	5 cakes	15 cakes	30 cakes
Seeded Raisins	1 cup	1 lb	2 lb
Seedless Raisins	1 cup	1 lb	2 lb
Currants	1 cup	1 lb	2 lb
Dates	3 oz	8 oz	1 lb
Dried Apricots	3 oz	8 oz	1 lb
Dried Cherries	14 oz	1 1/2 lb	3 lb
Dried Pineapple	14 oz	1 1/2 lb	3 lb
Pecans	1 cup	1 lb	2 lb
Almonds	1 cup	1 lb	2 lb
Flour for Dredging	1/3 cup	1 cup	2 cups
Sifted Flour for Mixing	1 1/3 cup	4 cups	8 cups
Baking Soda	1/2 tsp	1 tsp	2 tsp
Salt	1/4 tsp	1 tbsp	2 tbsp
Cinnimon	1 tsp	3 tsp	6 tsp
Allspice	1 tsp	3 tsp	6 tsp
Nutmeg	1/2 tsp	3/4 tsp	1 1/2 tsp
Butter	2/3 cup	1 lb	2 lb
Brown Sugar	2/3 cup	1 lb	2 lb
Eggs (separated)	4	12	24
Molasses	1/3 cup	1 cup	2 cups
Fruit Juice	3 tbsp	1/2 cup	1 cup
Brandy	3 tbsp	1/2 cup	1 cup
Strawberry jam or preserves	2/3 cup	1 pint	1 qt, or 2# jar
For Glaze
Brown Sugar	1/2 cup
Honey or maple syrup	1/3 cup
Water	1/3 cup
Lemon Juice	2 tbsp

1. Cut the larger fruits into smaller pieces, about the size of the dried cherries.  
2. Soak the dried fruits and nuts in brandy a week before baking, but reserve about 1/4 of the nuts for baking day.  I use gallon jugs.  Turn the jug(s) over, or stir them every day.  To stir, you will have to put them in a large bowl. 
3. On the baking day, first drain the fruit and nuts into a bowl, or large measuring cup.  It takes a lot of brandy to completely cover the fruit if you are making 15 or 30 cakes, so have a big container to catch the brandy.  Save the fruit-infused brandy, you will use it to soak the cakes while they age.  
4. In a large mixing bowl, add the dredging flour to the fruit and nuts.  Mix them well.
5. In another bowl, mix sifted flour with baking soda and spices.
6. In yet another bowl, cream sugar and butter.  I use a stand mixer.



Speed Helps 

7. Add egg yolks, and beat well.  Add molasses, fruit juice, brandy, and strawberries (or jam).  Blend thoroughly.  Fold in dry ingredients, 1/3 at a time.  

8. The larger size recipes can get quite large.  Be creative in how you solve the dilemma of getting a container large enough.  I used a plastic tub this year.  
9. Beat egg whites until stiff, but not dry.  Fold them into batter.  Don't fold too much, because the whites give you all the rise you're going to get.  
10. Turn the batter into pans which have been greased, and lined with parchment paper cut to fit smoothly.  Fill the pans about 3/4 full.  Chop the reserved nuts coarsely, sprinkle the tops with a small handful, and cover the cakes with parchment paper, to extend about 1” over the edge of the pan.  Tie tightly.  
11. Bake at 250 degrees for 1 1/2 hours for cakes weighing 5 pounds or less.  2 or 2 1/2 hours for over 5 pounds.  Use a toothpick to check for doneness.  If it comes out clean, the cake is done.  

    

    Baked and Cooling

12. While still warm, brush tops and bottoms with brown sugar glaze.  
13. Make Glaze.  Mix sugar, syrup, water and boil for 2 minutes.  Add lemon juice, and spread on the warm fruitcake. Set aside.  
14. Remove the cakes from the tins and the parchment paper, and wrap the them in cheese cloth.  Tear aluminum foil into pieces big enough to wrap entirely around the cake.  Place the cakes, one by one as you go, on a piece of the foil.  Use a ladle to lightly soak the cakes with the reserved fruity brandy, then wrap them with the foil, and seal them in air-tight containers.  
    
    

    

    On the Cheese Cloth

    

    On the Foil, and Adding the Reserved Fruity Brandy

    

    Wrapped in Foil

    

    All Stacked Up and ready for Storage

15. Put the cakes in a cool place to age.  Turn them once a week to get the juices to soak through.  Add more reserved brandy as necessary to keep them moist (although this is rarely necessary).  They should be aged for at least a month.  The tins may leak, so put something under them.  

Tip:  We use decorative tins in which to bake the cakes.  Starting in August, we keep an eye on the thrift stores for tins.  We inspect them thoroughly, and then wash and sterilize them before using them.  For the larger tins, when filling them, we place tomato paste cans wrapped in aluminum foil, and then greased, in the centers to help them bake faster.

There's a Hole in the Cake, Dear Liza.