Food of the Day -- Chicken Tenders

Why the inner pectoral muscles of chicken for food of the day? It's just white meat. Yes, it is just white meat, but it happens to be very good white meat. Breaded and fried (with tater tots on the side), it is my default lunch when eating at my work cafeteria. I'm repeatedly surprised how good it is. It also presents a conundrum for some restaurants and butchers.

I've resolved to be my own butcher . . . sort of. Not a primary, slaughterhouse butcher, not the grocery store role, but a tertiary level where I handle some of the finer ("value-added") cutting and trimming. First I need to, pardon the pun, bone-up on the craft. My wife reminds me of how her mother flirted with their butcher,

"Hey Mrs. Nichols, I've got some good-looking lamb chops for you."
"Oh Mike. . ." [spoken in goofy, never-heard-at-home voice]

I'm not persuing the romantic opportunities as much as the practical: It's not just that meat is expensive. Beef is confusing. At the risk of stating the obvious, cows are big. In addition to the major cuts (chuck, rib, loin, sirloin, round, flank, short plate, brisket and shank), there are dozens of sub cuts, many with multiple names. The confounded consumer (me) wastes time and money with poor choices. Why? Because the recipe I stuck in my pocket before shopping recommends something too pricey or the butcher used a different name for the same cut. Unavailable, concealed under an unrecognized label or too pricey -- I often need a substitute. Unfortunately, there is more to beef than "slow and low" versus "fast and high." Cooking techniques are destined to fail when you can't recognize the product. My food education continues.

I've been buying and carving whole chickens for years. The simplicity is incomparable -- a wing is a wing, a leg is a leg (thigh or drumstick), a breast is a breast. If you're having trouble figuring out the anatomy, stand it up, flap the wings and dance it around the kitchen. Even a city boy knows what a chicken looks like. For the butcher's apprentice, there isn't much nomenclature to master with poultry. There is an exception to this poultry simplicity -- chicken tenders. The USDA describes the inner pectoral muscle, tenderloin or strip closest to the bone, but doesn't provide a standard name.

Terminology aside, the chicken tender is a clumsy piece of muscle when dealing with a boneless breast. It hangs loosely and is difficult to contain for breading or cooking a neat split, boneless breast. Include them and the breasts look bulbous and huge, separate them and the portions appear reasonable and rest easily on a plate. Separately, they don't add up to much. Two tenders make a modest serving. What does the chef or butcher do? In a family restaurant, those clumsy, but tender pieces are separated and wind up on the kids menu as chicken fingers, tenders or nuggets. Despite their high quality, most consumers aren't sure how to cook just tenders, though they're increasingly sold separately. They haven't reached the status of beef tenderloins in the grocery stores, but their price suggests they're catching up (last check $6.39/lb).

I learned how to make Wiener Schnitzel from my days as an at-large employee of a German restaurant. The basic technique of breading and frying was an invaluable lesson. The veal in Wiener Schitzel is pounded flat (and thereby tenderized). No such flattening or pounding is necessary with tenders. The small, tube-like tenders don't require the large quantities of cooking oil necessary for deep-frying breasts, and they cook quickly. The keys to good breading technique are using the right oil temperature, i.e. hot enough to sear immediately, and using a breading you like. The technique is fairly simple: cover with flour, dip in beaten egg and bread crumbs (in that order). I have seen recipes recommending soaking in a buttermilk and crumb mixture overnight, which produces a heavy coating. The method I learned and just described was recently described on The Splendid Table. Lynne's stamp of approval is good enough for me. Season the breadcrumbs with a little pepper, Parmesan and Italian seasonings. They cook very fast.

Food of the Day -- Mustard

I like to play Dr. Science. I recently came across a spice experiment: take a teaspoon of powdered mustard and mix it with a few ounces of ice water. In a separate dish mix a teaspoon of mustard with a few ounces of boiling hot water. Give both mixtures a few minutes to come close to room temperature. Taste each. If you don't feel like trying it, I'll tell you what happens later.

I'd been reading about and playing around with mustard lately, and since we'd be in Madison for a few days, I suggested squeezing in a side trip to the Mustard Museum in Mount Horeb. There's a sign on the front door warning about bad puns. Clearly, this was not going to be a Smithsonian-like learning experience. The museum carries a collection of prepared mustards from dozens of countries and all 50 states. Besides mustard, the store sells mustard-related novelties such as the "Poupon U" cap perched on the author's head. I'm the paunchy one standing next to the Mini Chef. I needed a cap, just a cap and if it said, "Mount Horeb Mustard Museum" that would have been fine. It wasn't until the "curator" rang it up that the true colors of my purchase dawned on me [if you haven't caught on say, "Poupon U" out loud to yourself a few times]. I won't wear an "Old Fart" cap as a codger. Mysteriously, the Poupon U cap was left behind on that trip.

As an adult, I like mustard better than ketchup, especially on hot dogs and sausages. But not as a kid. The Mini Chef doesn't care for mustard. The corn syrup sweetness of ketchup is her condiment of choice for hot dogs, fries and burgers. For me, the limited selection of prepared condiment mustards in the seventies may have been a component of my early anti-mustard bias. I knew about French's, but not much else. I hadn't had any sweet honey mustard. I doubt I would have been enthusiastic about a sinus-clearing horseradish or wasabi mustard had I tried them.

The dry, unprepared mustard powder and seeds that have been part of my spice selection for years have been rarely used. That started to change with a few Indian dishes, one with potatoes and cumin (Aaloo sabzi), another with chicken. Those jars were like Lyle the Crocodile's friend Hector who put his hat in the fridge along with "a lonely jar of mustard."

It turns out that mustard is only as powerful as you want it to be. The lighter, yellow seeds are less sharp than the brown or black seeds, but the preparation is the ultimate determination. If you conducted the experiment at the beginning of the article you will have noticed that the cold water preparation retained most of its heat. The hot water preparation lost some. Throwing mustard seeds in hot oil will (eventually) diffuse the spice's effect.

Food of the Day - Tamarind

Tamarind is new to me. Unknowingly, I had it many times in Thai and Indonesian food (and Bloody Mary's -- it's a component in Worcestershire sauce), but its role is subtle. What did it contribute? I decided to investigate. I bought raw tamarind pods in the produce section, a liquid tamarind syrup from the Caspian Market, and a seeded gummy block at the "world foods" section of Cub Foods. I am a kinesthetic learner, I must learn by doing. In this case, learn by cooking.

As part of my reckless-spending-on-things-I-can't-afford week, I purchased some used cookbooks recently: The Korean Kitchen, George Lang's Cuisine of Hungary, and The Around the World Cookbook. The Around the World Cookbook was the hardest sell. I don't like general, all-purpose cookbooks. I have lots of topical cookbooks and regional or national cookbooks, but a book on THE WHOLE WORLD'S CUISINE? I looked hard. I read specific recipes. I perused the index. A Thai recipe for pork satay caught my eye: peanuts (peanut butter), pork and tamarind. All ingredients I had at home. I spent the thirteen dollars for an opportunity to experiment with tamarind, and provide an excuse to add to my cookbook collection.

The amount of curry (2 tablespoons of powder and another of paste for 4 servings) was too much for the Mini Chef's seven year-old palate, so I cut it down to a third and boosted both the coconut milk and peanut butter. A lesson from cooking with peanut butter - don't overcook it. While marinating the meat, I prepared the coconut milk and peanut butter sauce. The sauce needlessly spent more than half an hour on the stove during which several tablespoons of oil from the peanut butter and coconut milk separated. Cook recipes two or three times to avoid these timing issues!

My adjustments to the curry worked well for the Mini Chef, but left me unsatisfied. She got a Thai kid's meal: chunks of peanut buttery pork on a stick with basmati rice for dinner. But I hadn't resolved my question -- what role does tamarind play in cooking? I bought a can of an uncarbonated tamarind drink just to get the unadulterated taste -- it's essentially tamarind iced tea. I can imagine how the savory, tanginess would appeal on a hot humid Thai day far more than a syrupy, fizzy Coke.

Tamarind is not a show-stopper ingredient. It adds depth of taste, but not a strong taste by itself. I adore figs. The tamarind juice and gummy blocks remind me of them. Initially, I thought satay had not been the ideal vehicle for exploring tamarind, but as a supporting actor, it have been as appropriate as any recipe.

Below is a Pork Satay recipe similar to the one in the world cuisine cookbook (without the small kid adjustments). The recipe has two components, the marinade and the dipping sauce.

Marinade
2 Tablespoons Curry powder
1 Teaspoon Turmeric
1 Tablespoon Brown sugar
1 Tablespoon Fish sauce (nam pla)
2 Tablespoons Lime juice
1 Tablespoon Vegetable oil
1/4 Cup Unsweetened coconut milk
1 Pound Boneless pork loin - cut into 3" long x 1" wide- 1/4-inch-thick strips

24 8-in bamboo skewers - soaked in water for 1 hour

Peanut Dipping Sauce
1 Tablespoon Tamarind*
1 Tablespoon Sugar
2-3 Tablespoons Peanut butter
3/4 Cup Unsweetened coconut milk
1 Tablespoon Red curry paste

*If you are using a gummy block of tamarind, cut off about a 3/4 " cube and soften/dissolve it in a few ounces of hot water before adding to the sauce.

1. In a medium sized bowl, mix the marinade ingredients.
2. Cut the pork into 1/4-inch thick, rectangular slices approximately 2-3" x 1"
3. Coat the pork with the marinade and set aside for at least 20 minutes.
4. In a small sauce pan (1 qt) add the red curry paste and slowly mix in the coconut milk.
5. Heat on medium low while incorporating the peanut butter, sugar and tamarind (see comment above about overcooking sauce).
6. Thread the marinated meat through the skewers. Roughly three chunks per skewer.
7. On a hot grill, or medium high corrugated pan cook the pork approximately two minutes per side.
8. Serve with basmati or jasmine rice and cucumber salad.

Food of the Day -- Salt

"That's silly," was my response the first time I saw salt marketed as something other than table salt. For years I relegated "special" salts to a category more egregious than $+1,000 bottles of wine and exclusive caviars - the latter may be indulgences based on tenuous taste differences or special occasions, but salt is salt for crying out loud!

Or is it? My first insight that maybe salt was not just salt came from a simple recipe. I was vexed because I couldn't get the amount of salt right. Rosemary red potatoes had a simple enough ingredient list (potatoes, butter, olive oil, rosemary and kosher salt), but I managed to screw it up half the time -- and it was always the amount of salt I would get wrong. My family would look like they just took a hit of rot gut whiskey. Trying to substitute table salt for kosher salt messed up the measurement (table salt has smaller crystals and is denser). Lesson: If the recipe calls for kosher salt and you don't have it, use less. The figure I've heard is approximately 25%, i.e. 1 T kosher = 2 1/4 t table salt.

My reference on issues like this is Cookwise by Shirley Corriher. She goes into more technical detail than I care to repeat here, but the lesson I take away from her is that all salts are not equal. Chemically, salt is salt, but how it is handled and refined leads to two important differences. First, the size and shape of the crystal will change how it adheres. The shape of the crystal may be different. It may just bounce. If it doesn't stick - your salt will be less salty because there is less of it.

The second difference is the refining. Unpleasant tasting trace minerals, particularly calcium and magnesium, are removed through successive stages of brining and evaporation. Counter intuitively, the lack of refinement has become a big part of marketing of special salts today - the presence of trace minerals are tauted for their health benefits. Those trace minerals will also lead to subtle differences in taste. If you want to capture the attention of a roomful of aspiring chefs, whisper "subtle differences." A not-so-new twist is to sell salt infused with seasonings and flavorings. Winning the prize for most ridiculous is Salt Works' Fusion "Lime Fresco Sea Salt, $11.99 for a 3.5 oz. jar of sea salt with lime. You better be using some nice tequila with those margaritas if your blowing 12 bucks on salt!

I finally broke down and bought a jar of sea salt with claims of better taste and beneficial trace minerals. I haven't found a use for it that made it stand out. I'll keep you posted. I am happy with the kosher salt I've been using for a few years. The consensus I've seen from a Cooks Illustrated survey, a Culinate article and others I've spoken with puts me in good company -- kosher is the best buy for the kitchen.

About Writing

The hazard of writing about food is everyone has immediate food experience, and thousands are writing about it. About an hour after I started writing this piece, I saw an article in Culinate (linked above) by an engineer, attorney and I guess chef writing about salt. About the same time the New York Times covered children getting wigged out about "good" vs. "bad" food, featuring salt as a major culprit. I felt I got scooped.

Food of the Day -- Kellogg' s High School Musical

No Comment.

Food of the Day -- Za'atar

I rarely get a chance to say, "We might as well eat Persian tonight." The other evening I had to pick up the Mini Chef and had such an opportunity. Mom was at the Minnesota Textile Center on University doing something interesting. MC was an unofficial classroom assistant. We were in the neighborhood of the Caspian Bistro & Market. It was late, thought we'd stop by and . . .

In Hungary the salt and pepper shakers are salt and paprika shakers. At the Caspian Bistro there is S&P but there is also a larger shaker of a dark tart powder, sumac. The sumac used in sumac powder is related to the stuff you're not supposed to touch while hiking and the less toxic bright red berry bushes I found in the undeveloped acres of small town Minnesota. It is a common condiment in Persian and Central Asian cooking.

Sumac is quite tart. It is used wherever you might expect to use lemon, e.g. fish and hummus. It is more broadly common as a component in the herb and spice mix Za'atar (زعتر ). Za'atar is the Arabic word for wild thyme or marjoram, but this term doubles for a mixture (powder or paste) that is used on roast meat and on flat bread, even in yogurt.

Za'atar and sumac have a reputation for improving health and even sharpening the mind. I can't say whether this is mumbo jumbo or not, but sumac does contain tannins, that like wine are supposed to be healthy.

Scouring the internet for recipes, I discovered there is little agreement on what comprises za'atar - aside from thyme. Some recipes call for predominantly sumac, others none at all. I've included my finds and links. I also recommend two sites for information, the blog Desert Candy has a more complete and competent discussion of Za'tar (plus recipe) and for an almost scary dedication to the study of herbs and spices, Gernot Katzer's Spice Pages. I'm including only the ingredients below:

Syrian Za'atar (from Jewish Recipes)
1/4 cup ground sumac, dry
2 teaspoons dry thyme leaves
1 teaspoon cumin seed
1/2 teaspoon paprika
1/4 teaspoon salt

From RecipeZaar
1/2 cup excellent-quality Mediterranean savory or thyme
1/4 cup sumac
1/2 teaspoon sea salt
2 tablespoons sesame seeds

From About.com
1/4 cup sumac
2 tablespoons thyme
1 tablespoon roasted sesame seeds
2 tablespoons marjoram
2 tablespoons oregano
1 teaspoon coarse salt

Food of the Day -- Toasted Sesame Oil

A co-worker told me that her BMW was the best thing to come out of her failed marriage. I didn't get that lucky. Toasted sesame oil was about all I got out of my first marriage. And a couple old cats.

When I was in my twenties, I ate a lot of cheap ramen, the five-for-a-buck gutfill kind. I wasn't sophisticated enough to get beyond the foil MSG packets, though my Vietnamese college roommate got me to try duck sauce (no thanks). When I met my first wife, she introduced me to the magic condiment - toasted sesame oil. A few drops of toasted sesame oil, soy sauce and a bead of Vietnamese chili sauce and my ramen evolved into a respectable dish. The unopened MSG packs piled up. You never know when you might need MSG.

I don't eat much ramen these days. But I always have toasted sesame oil around. I buy large bottles of sesame oil for Korean dishes like bulgogi or the spinach side dish as described by Maangchi. But I never need more than a few drops at a time of toasted sesame oil. The rich, nutty almost oaky smell fixes bland fried rice or other leftover-motivated dishes.

I started playing with Microsoft Movie Maker today. I thought a little demonstration of the easiest thing in the world to cook (with a few drops of the magic ingredient) was in order. Let me know what you think.

Food of the Day -- Ting Ting Jahe Ginger Candy

Since I rarely plan more than a meal or two in advance, my trips to Asian groceries combine prospecting for serendipity with practicality. There are two Asian groceries in St. Paul that I favor. When I'm looking for Korean foods, I go to Kim's Oriental Market on Snelling (689 Snelling Ave N). For nearly everything else, I go to Shuang Hur on University (654 University W.). Shuang Hur is a more broadly Asian Foods store. It is not a little ethnic market, by such standards it is an enormous store with a butcher, a large produce section, and aisles of canned and packaged foods. Some people go to Target to shop for recreation. I'd rather wander the fishy smelling aisles to Shuang Hur or Kim's.

I don't have much culinary literacy with Asian foods. I wind up blankly staring at cans with strange crayfish-like creatures and directions in four languages and as many scripts. But occasionally I see something not too inscrutable, too complicated to prepare or too expensive and I drop it in my basket. Candy matches this criteria well. A recent favorite is Ting Ting Jahe ginger candy from Indonesia.

I usually see these chewy, intensely gingery candies in cigarette pack-sized boxes for less than a dollar, though I've seen them sold in larger quantities in clear bags. The individual candies are wrapped in a coated paper with a second thin edible rice paper wrapper inside. The boxes are cool. I'm tempted to roll one up in my shirt sleeve. They've become popular enough to show up in the Asian foods sections of Cub Foods.

Ginger is commonly considered a digestive aid. Next time the Mini Chef has a tummy ache, I'll see if a chewy ginger candy goes over better than a couple chalky Rolaids.

Food of the Day -- Cheetos

Waiting for a bus, a car pulled up near me, rolled down the window on the passenger side and a twentysomethingish head offered me Cheetos in a giggly stoner voice. I declined. They enticed me further with the information, "they're the fluffy kind."

That was a few years ago. I turned down this generous offer from strangers, but this weird puffed extruded cornmeal coated with miscellaneous oils, salt, msg and cheddar cheese became more than an occasional favorite. For a while, they were a daily addiction and I attributed some weight gain directly to Earl's (a locally produced Cheetos knock-off). I was constantly running to the men's room to scrub my brightly orange-tinted fingers before they stained accounting reports. I've heard if you don't lick your fingers this isn't an issue, but any degree of moisture creates the problem (the stains, not the addiction).

I considered modifying a hot air popcorn popper and loading it with a soggy cornmeal paste and the cheese popcorn salt you can find in the grocery store. Cut out the Middlemen! DIY all the way! I decided it also had a lot of potential for an electrical fire, but what a way to go!

I've managed to kick the Cheetos/Earl's monkey and spared myself 340 calories a day. I rarely fall off the brightly colored cheese wagon, but my work vending machine has been taunting me. Snacks low in something bad for you merit a "Heart Healthy" sticker. Jalapeno Crunchy Cheddar Cheetos somehow meet this vague distinction.



The Jalapeno flavor is actually hot (to me). But the real problem is they are crunchy. The guys in that car really knew what they were peddling. The puffy kind really are better.