I got so caught up with writing up the rye bread recipe (see previous post) that I forgot about dinner. Since I just finished reading a book on medieval cooking [1], I took a look to see what I could throw together quickly, and decided to adapt a calamari recipe [2] to pan fry some frozen whiting that I had in the freezer. I prepped the seasoning as it defrosted in the microwave.
Ingredients
2 fish fillets
2-3 TB flour for dredging
2-3 TB oil for frying
2 TB chopped parsley (I didn’t have any so used cilantro instead)
1 tsp chopped fresh mint (or 1/2 tsp dried)
1 tsp ground coriander seed
1/2 scant tsp ground cinnamon
1/2 tsp freshly ground black pepper
1 lemon
1 small orange
1 TB olive oil
salt
Directions
If fish is frozen, defrost in microwave. Pat dry with paper towel.
Season the fish lightly on both sides with salt, and lightly dredge in flour. I sprinkled on some Wondra flour, which I find works better for this than regular all-purpose flour.
Heat a pan over medium heat and add 2-3 TB oil, enough to generously coat the bottom.
Cook the fish skin side down until lightly browned, then flip and cook other side for a minute or two until cooked through.
While the fish is cooking, prepare the sauce: zest the lemon and orange into a small bowl, along with the chopped herbs and spices and a pinch of salt. Mix well to combine, then squeeze in the juice of both fruits, and add a glug of fruity olive oil.
Relocate the fish from the pan to a plate and spoon on a healthy dollop of the sauce.
Notes
[1] “Pleyn delit: medieval cookery for modern cooks”, by Sharon Butler et al
[2] A 14th century Italian recipe by Platina in Bartolomeo Sacchi’s “On Right Pleasure and Good Health.”
The original recipe calls for the spices to be applied while the fish cooks, and then the juice added after it cooks, but I decided to cook the fish plain, then mush everything else together. This is not only easier, but prevents the spices from burning and the herbs from cooking so they stay fresh.
This recipe from the Modernist Bread book uses both a rye sourdough starter as well as active yeast, so it gets the flavour but is quick and easy. Prepare the levain the night before. If your starter isn’t fresh, feed it the day before that to get it ready. Otherwise it’s a fairly simple and straightforward recipe, considering how good it is. It tastes just like the rye bread from a NYC Jewish bakery, but with a lighter and fluffier texture, while still retaining that rye chewiness.
Makes 1 large (~1100 g) or 2 small loaves.
Ingredients
190 g cold whole milk
160 g cool water
9 g SAF instant yeast
550 g King Arthur bread flour
220 g liquid rye levain (60 g liquid sourdough starter, 65 g rye flour, 95 g water)
30 g canola oil
12 g salt
12 g caraway seeds
Method
The night before, make the liquid rye levain. It should be ~25% liquid starter, 100% flour, 120% water.
Combine 60 g mature liquid sourdough starter, 65 g rye flour, 95 g water in a small container.
Stir well to combine, cover, and allow to ferment at cool room temperature overnight.
In stand mixer bowl, combine the water, milk, and yeast, and stir to dissolve.
Add the other ingredients except the caraway seeds, stir on low speed 2 for 2 minutes to shaggy mass.
Scrape down sides of bowl to incorporate, then mix on medium speed 4 for 6-7 minutes until medium gluten development. The dough should coalesce into a single ball that doesn’t stick to the bowl.
Add caraway seeds and mix on low speed 2 for 2 minutes to fully incorporate.
Transfer dough to a lightly oiled container and cover.
Bulk ferment for 1 hour, with 1 book fold after 30 minutes, then a 30 minute rest.
Shape into a bâtard, brush with oil, and let rise for 1 to 2-1/2 hours (depending on temperature, etc.) on a lightly oiled silicone mat on a cookie sheet/sheet pan.
Check the progress after an hour and preheat the oven to 385°F.
When ready, score with 3 diagonal slashes across the top.
Bake on the middle shelf for 30 minutes, then vent the oven by propping open the door a smidge (I use a folded potholder) and bake for another 5 minutes.
Transfer to wire rack and allow to cool before slicing it.
Notes
The recipe calls for 14g each of salt and caraway, but I reduced it a bit because I wanted to taste the rye and not just salt and seeds.
The recipe calls for baking in loaf pans, but I wanted more of a bakery look so tried it free-form. At 65.7% hydration it’s a fairly wet dough for that and spread out a little as it proofed, next time I’ll try to prop up the sides of the silpat to keep it from oozing too much.
I only had 1% milk instead of whole milk, so added a teaspoon of butter to make up the difference in fat content.
Since rye flour is very low in gluten, it is important to use a good high gluten bread flour, or else add some gluten flour if you must use all-purpose flour.
I used King Arthur medium rye flour, which provided just the right amount of greyish tint to the bread.
Despite the appearance of “rye” in the name, this is technically a white sandwich bread. After writing up the recipe, I noticed that there should be a total of 100 g of rye flour, but I only used 65 g. That’s because I started with a regular wheat sourdough starter to make the levain, as opposed to maintaining a second rye one. Next time I will substitute 35 g of the bread flour with rye to make up the difference.
The loaf lacked the burnished sheen of bakery bread. Next time I will try an egg white wash just before scoring.
Shaped and ready to proof:
Almost ready to bake:
Cooling (it smells so good!):
It’s hard to convey in photos, but this is truly one of the best loaves I’ve ever made.
I’ve mentioned using schmaltz (rendered chicken fat) several times, but in case I neglected to do so, here are the specific instructions to make your own. It’s quite easy and economical, as it uses scraps that would otherwise be discarded, and a great alternative to lard, shortening, and butter for kosher cooking and baking, and so tasty that it’s worth using regardless. For instance, in mofongo instead of chicharrones (pork crackling).
As a bonus of the rendering process, we get gribanes, the crispy fried bits of skin and fat that are leftover after the fat is strained out. For the ultimate chef’s treat or indulgent savory midnight snack, take a slice of rye bread, dip (or shmear) in a bit of schmaltz, and sprinkle with the gribanes. A small glass of Italian amaro is a non-traditional but wonderful accompaniment.
I prefer to make my schmaltz unsalted, and usually without the onion, making it more versatile in baking. Also, that way I can control the amount of salt in the recipe, and onion flavour is easily added as needed by sauteing a diced onion in schmaltz and adding it just about any savory recipe.
Ingredients:
chicken skin and fat [see note 1 below]
kosher salt
small onion (optional), finely diced
2 slices rye bread (optional, for snack)
Directions
Cut the skin and fat into small pieces. If you only have a little bit, freeze it and wait until there is enough to bother with, roughly the amount from a whole chicken or 2-3 pounds of thighs. If it’s dirty looking, rinse and dry on a paper towel. Don’t worry if there are small pieces of meat or connective tissue attached, but any dark material (e.g. blood vessels) or gristle should be removed.
Spread out the skin and fat in a small pan (large enough to hold it in a single layer), and add a splash of water (1-2 TB, no need to measure). The water will help prevent the skin from sticking as it heats up.
Heat the pan over medium heat for 5-10 minutes until the water evaporates. Stir everything, scrape up any bits that are starting to stick, and spread back out into a single layer. If there are overlaps, not a problem, but you’ll have to stir more frequently to make sure that it all cooks evenly.
Reduce the heat to very low, and cook for at least an hour, stirring occasionally. As the fat renders out, carefully pour it out into a separate container [see notes 2, 3 below] to keep it from getting too dark. Or leave it for a more ghee-like product and strain it out at the end. If desired, add the chopped onion, the ratio is personal preference but I would say 2:1 chicken:onion is a good starting point.
Once all the fat is rendered and the solids are crispy, strain the rest of the liquid fat into the container, drain the gribenes on a paper towel and salt to taste.
Optional snack: Dip/shmear the bread into the schmaltz left in the pan (and/or use it instead of the paper towel in the previous step), cover with a layer of the warm gribenes, and indulge.
Notes
Although I’ve only mentioned chicken here, other poultry works great too. Goose is traditional in Eastern Europe, but I’ve never cooked one. Everyone knows about duck fat these days, the process is identical. And I’ve made a lot of turkey schmaltz, it is a bit more strongly flavoured so I wouldn’t use it for baking, but otherwise works fine wherever a meaty taste is desired.
The container should have a tight fitting lid. Tupperware works fine, but I tend to use empty Grey Poupon mustard jars, they are about the right size and fit nicely into the meat drawer of my refrigerator. If kept clean, it should keep for weeks if not months in the fridge, and it also freezes well.
If using a glass container, allow the schmaltz to cool slightly before pouring to avoid the chance of breakage. Or you can preheat the glass, but make sure that it’s dry inside. Too much trouble in my opinion, it will stay liquid for quite a while as it cools to a safe temperature.
Although rye bread is best, sourdough (as pictured below), Challah, or other hearty bread works fine too.
Melissa Clark (NY Times) has a variation of cooking in the oven instead of the stovetop, which may be easier for larger batches, but I’ve never tried it that way. [See https://cooking.nytimes.com/recipes/1017054-schmaltz-and-gribenes for details] I have one of my mother’s old pans with steeper sides than a standard skillet/frying pan that prevents splattering that is just about perfect, although I can’t recall if she ever used it for this. Pretty much the only other things I use it for is cooking hot dogs (they fit perfectly) and poaching eggs.
Despite the fancy sounding name, this is basically a quick version of chicken soup with hominy. To speed things up we use canned hominy, jarred recaito, and a box of broth, rather than the homemade versions. But there are enough fresh ingredients that you won’t mind at all, and will hardly notice. Absent is any grinding, roasting, parboiling, pureeing, or other time-consuming fancy-sounding steps like mis en place. Everything gets chopped up on the fly and added to a single pot.
Ingredients
1 TB olive oil
2 chicken thighs (or drumsticks, if you prefer those)
1 onion
1 poblano or Anaheim green pepper, seeded and diced
1 Serrano pepper (or jalapeno), seeded and coarsely chopped
2 TB Goya green recaito (optional)
1-2 bay leaves
1 black cardamom pod
2 green cardamom pods
2 cloves garlic, minced
1-2 tsp ground coriander seeds
1-2 tsp oregano
1L box of low sodium chicken broth
12 oz tomatillos
1 large can (29 oz) hominy
1 jalapeno pepper (or Serrano), seeded and finely diced
1 scallion (or 2 TB minced onion), finely diced
2-3 radishes or 1 small cucumber (optional), finely diced
cilantro (about 1/4 cup)
Directions
In a Dutch oven or other soup pot, heat the olive oil over medium heat and add the chicken thighs, skin side down. Season the exposed flesh with salt.
Finely dice the onion and add to the pan, stir to coat with oil, and cook for a minute or two until translucent. While the onion starts to cook, prep the poblano and Serrano and add to the pot.
Flip the chicken over, add the whole spice and sofrito and cook for another minute or two, then add the garlic and coriander and stir to distribute.
Pour in the broth, and bring to a boil, then lower heat, cover, and simmer for 5-10 minutes.
Add the hominy along with its juices from the can, bring back to boil, cover, and simmer for another 5-10 minutes.
While the hominy cooks, de-husk, wash, and dice the tomatillos. Add to pot and simmer for another 5-10 minutes, until the hominy starts to soften and the chicken is cooked (about 15-20 minutes total, but more time doesn’t hurt).
Garnish: While the soup simmers, prepare the topping. If you already have some pico de gallo, congratulations you are done. If not, might as well make something green. Finely dice the radishes (I didn’t have any so used a mini (aka “Persian) cucumber instead, the scallion (or onion, which can be reserved from the one in the soup), and the jalapeno (or Serrano if you want it hot), and a good amount of chopped fresh cilantro. Mix well in a small bowl and season to taste with salt and pepper and oregano, and perhaps a squeeze of lime juice.
Fish the chicken out of the pot, and shred or chop into bite sized pieces. Discard the whole whole spices.
Put a few pieces of chicken into the bottom of a bowl, and ladle some soup over it. Sprinkle with some oregano, and add a spoonful of the green garnish on top.
Notes
As per usual, ingredients were chosen based on what was in the fridge/pantry. For instance, pepitos (green pumpkin seeds) are tradional, but I didn’t have any. Instead I added some cardamom and coriander for some smokiness and earthy vegetal nuttiness. But I would make it like this again, even if I had the seeds, maybe with a sprinkle of cumin.
The peppers used can vary, both in type and quantity, depending on how hot you want it, but stick to green rather than red.
Taste the canned hominy liquid before adding it. Mine wasn’t too salty and had a nice earthy flavour, so I added it. But if it’s too salty or tastes too “canned”, then rinse off the hominy and add a can of water instead.
If you want the soup to be thicker/creamier, use an immersion blender to partially/completely puree the soup after removing the chicken and whole spices. Or transfer some/all to a blender. Personally I like it this way, a thin broth with lots of stuff floating in it. With the added advantage that it’s a lot quicker and easier and less messy.
Pozole verde is often served with shredded cabbage and sliced avocado, and warm corn tortillas. But I think those all work better with the pork version, and overpower the milder chicken. And with the hominy, there’s already enough corn.
Aardvark Eats & Drinks 