Cape Cod Almighty!

Well, Arthur threatened to spoil our glorious return to Cape Cod, but, when the storm had finally passed and the winds had settled, the skies cleared up beautifully and things got back to normal.

 fig. a:  summer off the Cape

Our 2013 trip to Cape Cod had been such a hit that we were eager to get back and do it all over again.  And because we were there for the same stretch of time, and we'd loved the way our last trip had played out, we were happy to basically replicate our 2013 itinerary.

This meant that there were a few major priorities to our trip:

1.  bookstores, book sales, thrift shops & flea markets

 fig. b:  books al fresco

We probably should commission a custom bumper sticker for our car that reads "I brake for bookstores, book sales, thrift shops, flea markets, particularly promising-looking garage sales, farm stands, pie shops, jam stores, sustainable seafood markets, well-curated wine shops, and discount beverage stores," because we do--we make frequent stops at all these kinds of enterprises, especially when we're on Cape Cod.

We started making such stops almost immediately after we crossed the Sagamore Bridge and began following the 6A (a.k.a., the Old King's Highway) east across the northern edge of the Cape.  These stops included the Parnassus Book Service in Yarmouth Port, which specializes in many things (Americana, Cape Codiana, etc.), but is especially notable for its extensive collection of the work of local legend Edward Gorey.

The most important stop on our Cape Cod Collectibles tour was without a doubt a return visit to the Wellfleet Flea Market,

 fig. c:  magic carpets

which takes place on the grounds of the Wellfleet Cinemas drive-in theater, on the very southern edge of town, just north of North Eastham, and a few miles from the center of town.

 fig. d:  virtual windows

You've got to head up closer to the screen to get to "the good stuff" (the stuff that's actually old and/or holds real value, as well as the true Cape Cod characters who are selling it).  This is one of our favourite flea markets anywhere, and both times we've visited we've scored plenty of great finds, but our absolute favourite stand is the "Local Folk Art" stand (formerly known as the Cape Recycled Art Project, or C.R.A.P.)

 fig. e:  C.R.A.P.

where we bought the beach plums and the wild apricots last year.  We had a longer conversation with Mike (a.k.a., the Man From C.R.A.P.) this time around, and we thanked for him for his foraged fruit and told him about the preserves we made with them.  Turns out his fruit foraging prowess has earned him the nickname "Beach Plum Mike."  Of course, he didn't have any plums or apricots when we saw him, because it wasn't quite the season, but he did have a lot of whales, mermaids, narwhals, fish, and birds, and his style ranges from American Primitive to Folk Whimsy.  Either way, he's one of the best folk artists I've come across over the years, and we made a point of making some new acquisitions.

 fig. f:  whale

And you'll be happy to know that our Cape Cod bird instantly befriended our Kamouraska eel.

 fig. g:  bird & eel

2.  Wellfleet Center

 fig. h:  we grow 'em bigger!

Speaking of whimsy:  there's a fair bit of it in Wellfleet Center, both in the heart of town, and out by the town pier.

 fig. i:  book nerds

They also know how to put on a great book sale (see #1) in Wellfleet,

 fig. j:  French psychedelia

and you never know what you might find, like this bizarre collection of 52 semi-psychedelic "jumbo-size recipe playing cards" featuring the cuisine of France (?).

Sample recipe card:  the 10 of spades is "Poulet aux Amandes (Chicken in White Wine with Almonds)."

Not clear on the concept?  Here, let me explain:  "Winning luncheons and dinners are in the cards!  Deal from this complete deck of delicious hors d'oeuvres, light luncheon dishes, entrees, vegetables, salads and desserts.  French Recipe Cards are a pack of fun!  Use them for games... as hostess gifts... for party favors."

 fig. k:  window shopping

The Wellfleet Market is an anchor of the community, and their meat department has provided me with all the quality spare ribs I've required over the last couple of years.  They also know how to decorate their windows.

But our very favourite place in Wellfleet Center is Hatch's, a small operation just off the Town Hall that consists of two halves:  Hatch's Produce, a green grocer, which carries a lot of locally grown fruits and vegetables (in season),

 fig. l:  Hatch's Produce

and Hatch's Fish Market, which may very well be our favourite place for seafood.

 fig. m:  Hatch's Fish Market

We were just blown away by the selection, the freshness, and the affordability of Hatch's seafood last year, and this year we were just as impressed.  Once again, we didn't hold back, and, once again, we treated our hosts to a seafood feast on Sunday night, featuring local littleneck clams, wild shrimp, local scallops, and local flounder.

If you don't have access to a kitchen, you can always just pay a trip to Mac's on the pier.  There you'll find lobster rolls and other types of seafood sandwiches, oysters on the half-shell, and steamed littleneck clams that are worth waiting on.

 fig. n:  waiting for my clams

And when you visit Wellfleet, be sure to pay a trip to one of the stunning local beaches, preferably oceanside (see below).

3.  Ice Cream

The motto of Sundae School, our favourite Cape Cod ice cream shop and soda fountain, is "Don't skip Sundae School," and, believe me, we wouldn't dream of it.  Sundae School in Harwich Port is one of our favourite ice cream shops of all-time, and, for us, Bass River Mud is their showstopper.  Rich coffee ice cream, roasted almonds, chocolate chunks, and fudge swirl--it's a flavor that lives up to its evocative name,

 fig. o:  Bass River estuary

and it's hard for us to imagine a better combination, or a more successful version of this combination.  I meant to take a photograph of it immediately after receiving my cone, but I literally couldn't wait long enough to fire off a shot.  This is what a regular serving of Bass River Mud looks like after it's half eaten.

 fig. p:  Bass River Mud

4.  Barbecue

Monday in Harwich Port has become our barbecue day.  I pick up a mess of ribs at the Wellfleet Market on Sunday.  I rub them with my special blend

 fig. q:  special blend

and let the flavours infuse in the refrigerator overnight.  And on Monday afternoon, between swims, I put the 3-2-1 method to work.  Monday night we have ourselves a good old-fashioned rib-pickin', with all the trimmings, and we wash it all down with bourbon and rye.

5.  Swimming

We go swimming as often as we can.  That's the rule:  get it while you can.

The waters you find off the "tricep" of Cape Cod, facing Nantucket and Martha's Vineyard, get pretty nice and warm and the waves tend to be smaller and choppier.

The waters you find off the "forearm" of Cape Cod, facing the ocean, are bracing, but they're also a remarkably beautiful blue-green, the waves tend to be bigger and better-formed, and the dunes that line the coast are often monumental.

 fig. r:  this way to paradise

This year, it was Marconi Beach, near Wellfleet, that took our breath away.  But, believe me, every single swim, on both coasts of Cape Cod, was a great swim.

6.  Souvenirs

It's important to commemorate a summer beach vacation with souvenirs.

 fig. s:  s is for souvenirs

T-shirts, jam, used books, collectibles, bourbon--whatever it takes.  A trip like this can be such a dream come true, such a wonderful blur, that when you get back home you might find yourself needing tangible evidence that you were actually there.

Our favourite souvenirs are edible ones, and the thing we knew we'd miss the most when we left Cape Cod was the seafood, so we made a point of scooting up to Wellfleet and popping into Hatch's again before we headed back to Montreal.  Once again, we picked up a bunch of local specialties, like shrimp, scallops, and cod (natch), but the treat we were most excited about were our two dozen littleneck clams.  Those Wellfleet littlenecks had been one of the highlights of our trip, and we were determined to extend the good tidings all the way back home.  We weren't exactly sure what we were going to do with them, but on the drive back I had a flash of inspiration:  clam pizza!

So the day after, that's exactly what I did:  I made a couple of clam pies using the Roberta's method.

Once you've got your two pizza doughs ready to be baked...

Clam Pizza 

24 littleneck clams
2 x 125g buffalo mozzarella or fior di latte
parsley, minced
chives, minced
red pepper flakes
reserved clam juice
extra-virgin olive oil
lemon wedges 

Place a pizza stone in your oven, and preheat it as high as your oven will go.  I recommend doing so at least an hour before you plan on baking. 

Wash and scrub your littleneck clams, rinsing them several times.

 fig. t:  raw

Place them in a medium pot with 1/2" of salted water and cover the pot.  Bring the pot to a boil, turn the heat down to medium-high, and steam the clams until all the shells have opened.  Generally 6-10 minutes is how long it's going to take, but these super-fresh Wellfleet littlenecks only took about 4 minutes.  The common wisdom is to discard those clams that don't open.  

Scoop the clams into a bowl, 

 fig. u:  cooked

making sure to reserve the clam broth in the pot. 

When your clams have cooled enough to handle, remove the clam meat from the shells and mince them on a cutting board.  Divide the minced clam meat into two equal portions.   

Slice both portions of mozzarella as thinly as possible and gather together your other ingredients. 

Add about a tablespoon of your clam broth to about two tablespoons of extra-virgin olive oil and stir well.  This will be your drizzling oil.  (Save the rest of the clam broth for another use, like making spaghetti with clam sauce, but make sure to use it while it's still fresh.)

When your oven is ready to go, stretch and form your pizza dough into a 12" round with a properly shaped lip to it.  Spread half your mozzarella slices over your dough, placing the larger pieces closer toward the rim and the smaller pieces closer toward the center.  (Buffalo mozzarella gives off a considerable amount of liquid.  When you're baking a thin-crust, "white" pie like this, you want to try to avoid having liquid pooling in the center as much as possible.) 

Scatter half your clam meat evenly over the pie.  Sprinkle minced parsley, minced chives, and red pepper flakes over top.  Grind some black pepper overtop and sprinkle a pinch of sea salt.  Drizzle the pie with your olive oil/clam broth concoction.  Place it in the oven and bake following the Roberta's method. 

Remove your pie from the oven when it's baked to perfection and allow it to cool for about a minute.  This will allow the molten cheese to set and make it easier for the pizza to be sliced.  It will also make it easier for the pizza to be eaten, and help you to avoid law suits.

 fig. v:  clam pie 1

Serve with lemon wedges and encourage your guests to squeeze a little lemon juice over their slices.

 fig. w:  clam pie 2

Repeat instructions with dough #2.

The AEB Clam Pizza was a tribute to the clam pie we had at Motorino back in April, but it was also a pretty tasty tribute to Wellfleet and Cape Cod.  Those clams were so tender, so briny, so vibrant, it was almost like we'd never left.

Of course, in order to make it possible to bring back edible souvenirs such as these on a road trip such as this, a cooler is essential.  Make sure to buy enough ice to keep everything fresh on the long drive back.

Postscript:  Yes, we miss the towns, the beaches, and the seafood of Cape Cod, but it wouldn't mean quite as much without good friends.  What we really miss most of all is experiencing Cape Cod with our close friends R & MA and the rest of the Harwich Port Crew (you know who you are!)--the beers, wine, and cocktails; the al fresco dining; the beach time; the laughs; the feats of sporting prowess; the dance moves; the trips down Memory Lane; the word play...  OMC!  You guys are awesome!

aj

Noma 2: Manic Cuisine

It may be March already, but with Montreal still in process of digging itself out from under yet another blizzard, it seems like an appropriate time to complete our Noma series...

We may have started slowly with Noma: Nordic Cuisine, but when it came to putting it to the test a second time, we threw all caution into those arctic February winds.

Now some of you hotshots out there who've skimmed ahead might be thinking to yourselves, "Two courses--that's it?" Yeah, that's it. But as you'll notice once you read things through carefully, there are a number of different parts to each course, we started the meal at about 5:30 on a weeknight (except for the Day 1 and Day 2 steps, of course), and you see where it lists "chicken stock" down below? Well, for some reason we decided to make our own that very night. Making our own chicken stock from scratch isn't all that weird for us--we do so with frequency--however, making chicken stock simultaneous to the preparation of the very meal that calls for chicken stock in the first place is a litttle strange, even for us. I point this out not out of some pathetic desire to impress you, dear readers, but rather to convey the ambience in the kitchen on that particular night, an ambience that could quite succinctly be described as "manic." Not "manic-bad," mind you, just "manic." And, actually, once we got into the swing of things that night, we were able to relax--considerably. The meal was so labor-intensive for a weekday dinner for two that it was laughable, so laugh we did, especially when the recipes forced us to muster up a little on-the-spot ingenuity (you'll see what I mean momentarily). Still, we were eating by 8:30, so that's not so bad.

We'd selected our menu based on two criteria: we definitely wanted to choose recipes that were seasonal, seasonality being such an important part of the Noma philosophy, and we definitely wanted to choose recipes whose ingredients we could actually find in Montreal (or invent in our kitchen, as it turns out), because unlike the folks at Noma, we weren't in a position to start establishing trade agreements with Greenlandic fisherman. Besides, Noma is all about regionality (albeit pan-Nordic regionality), so we didn't see the point in attempting to track down authentic Faroe Islands langoustines or whatnot. So we settled on Cured Brisket of Pork with Potato Skins and Beer-Cured Onions, with a stripped down version of Sautéed Bay Scallops with Leeks, Dill, and Crème of Egg Yolks as an appetizer. If our logic here isn't clear, it went something like this: a) Quebec is definitely a pork culture, it's also a potato culture, a beer culture, and an onion culture, and we love all of the above, so, all right... Check! b) bay scallops are a little hard to find around here, but sea scallops sure aren't, seeing as the St-Lawrence basin is one of the world's finest sea scallop habitats, so that works, and so do leeks, dill, and eggs, and we love all of those ingredients too, so it's too bad we're going to scratch the leeks, but it'll sure make things easier... Check! Truth be told, more than anything it was the juniper berries--a spice typical of traditional Québécois cuisine--that sold me on the pork, and then we just took it from there.

Now, if you want make the Noma meal exactly the way we did, you're going to have to allot three days to the cause, but, as you'll see, there's a simplified version way down below that can be fully realized in the space of just a few hours that's also very satisfying, so you may very well want to follow that path instead.

fig. a: scallops by Noma as interpreted by us

Sautéed Scallops with Dill and Crème of Egg Yolks

seared scallops:

4 medium-size scallops
sugar and salt
1 tbsp grapeseed oil
1 tbsp of butter cut into 4 nubs
4 rosemary leaves

Toss the scallops in a little bit of sugar and salt and let them marinate for a few hours or, preferably, overnight. When the scallops have marinated, heat the grapeseed oil in a well-seasoned or nonstick pan over medium-high heat. When the oil has reached temperature, sear the scallops gently on both sides--you want them to have a golden crust and no more. When you turn the scallops over onto their second side, place a butter nub and a rosemary leaf on each. When the second side has a nice golden crust, you're ready to serve.

dill oil:

1 tbsp dill
1 tbsp flat-leaf parsley
grapeseed oil

Blanch the dill and the parsley in salted water. Cool the herbs down with a cold-water or ice-water bath. Wring them dry and place them in a blender. Add just enough oil (roughly 4-6 oz.) to blend the herbs into a loose purée. Strain the oil with a fine mesh and discard the solids.

crème of egg yolks:

3 boiled egg yolks (yolks from eggs that have been boiled for precisely 9 minutes)
35 g / 3 tbsp capers-brine (the brine from a jar of capers)
25 ml / 5 tsp chicken stock, preferably homemade
20 g / 2 tbsp breadcrumbs
1 medium carrot, peeled and boiled
200 ml / 3/4 cup grapeseed oil
1 tsp toasted peanut or sesame oil
salt and lemon juice

Blend the egg yolks with the capers-brine, the chicken stock, the breadcrumbs, and the carrot. Pour in the grapeseed oil a little bit at a time and continue blending. Then, using your judgment, add the peanut oil, the salt, and the lemon juice until you have an extremely tasty but loose purée (keep in mind that the capers-brine is very, well, briny, so you may not need any salt at all). Strain the crème.

assembly:

Place two seared scallops on a plate. Place a flamboyant smear of the egg crème alongside. Drizzle some dill oil around the scallops in a circular pattern. Drizzle a tiny bit of balsamic vinegar in the same circular pattern as the dill oil. Serve immediately.

Serves 2 as an appetizer.

[adapted slightly from Noma: Nordic Cuisine]

At this point, if you skim ahead just a bit you'll notice that Noma's "Cured Brisket of Pork" has metamorphosed into "Cured Pork Belly." We based this adjustment on the accompanying photograph in Noma: Nordic Cuisine, on the fact that the cookbook is littered with minor mis-translations, and on simple common sense.

fig. b: Noma does pork

Cured Pork Belly with Potato Skins and Beer-Cured Onions

1 kg / 2.2 lb pork belly
1/2 tbsp juniper berries
1/2 tbsp coriander seeds
1/2 tbsp green anise
1/2 tbsp caraway
1 rosemary branch, leaves removed, minced
1 thyme branch, minced
14 g / 2 tbsp salt
lard, preferably smoked
grapeseed oil

Two days before your meal, toast the spices in a dry pan till the caraway and anise is just golden and the combination becomes highly aromatic.

fig. c: toasting spices

Crush the spices and the salt together in a mortar to make a rub. Clean the pork belly and dry it. Using your fingers, coat the pork belly on all sides with the rub.

On Day 2, preheat the oven to 80º C. Clean the pork belly of the spices. Cover the pork with a thin layer of lard and put it in a roasting pan. Put the meat in the oven and cook slowly for 12 hours.

Remove the brisket and place under pressure (i.e., under a cutting board) to compress it and put it in the refrigerator overnight.

On Day 3, score the rind of the pork belly and then slice it into oblong pieces. Sauté these pieces slowly in a little bit of oil over medium heat until they are crispy and warm at the edges.

sauce:

3 tbsp balsamic plum vinegar (or 3 tbsp "balsamic plum vinegar," i.e., 2 tbsp ume plum vinegar mixed with 1 tbsp balsamic vinegar)
1/2 rosemary branch
4 juniper berries
50 ml / 3 tbsp + 1 tsp apple juice
200 ml / 3/4 cup chicken stock, preferably homemade
100 ml / 1/3 cup+ weissbier or blanche

In a saucepan over medium-high heat, reduce the vinegar with the rosemary and the juniper berries for a couple of minutes. Add the apple juice, bring the mixture back to a boil, and reduce for another couple of minutes. Add the chicken stock and the weissbier and reduce the mixture down to half its original volume. Strain the sauce and season to taste.

fig. d: marinated onions

beer-cured onions:

20 pearl onions, blanched then separated into shells
200 ml / 3/4 cup beer (use a good lager)
90 g / 1/2 cup honey
1 thyme branch
5 juniper berries
110 g / 3/4 cup balsamic apple vinegar (or 110 g "balsamic apple vinegar," i.e., apple vinegar mixed with balsamic vinegar in a 2:1 ratio)

Boil the beer, the honey, the thyme and the juniper berries together and reduce for 5 minutes. Take the marinade off the heat and add the balsamic apple vinegar or "balsamic apple vinegar." Pour the marinade over the onion skins and let them steep in the liquid for at least 30 minutes. Don't throw the thyme and juniper berries away--you'll want to decorate your plates with them.

fig. e: our potatoes as they went into the oven

crispy potato peels:

1 kg /2.2 lb small potatoes, scrubbed
oil for frying, such as grapeseed or peanut

Bake the potatoes in the oven at 160º C until they are just tender. Take them out of the oven, allow them to cool briefly, and cut them into halves. Gently and carefully so as to preserve their shape, scoop the potato flesh out of the peels and save for another purpose (i.e., tomorrow morning's home fries). Take the peels and fry them in oil heated to 160º C until they are crispy. You may have to do this in multiple batches. Remove the peels from the oil and place them on paper towel to let them dry. Season with salt.

assembly:

Place one piece of pork belly on each plate and surround each piece with potato skins and onions. Garnish with juniper berries and thyme and/or rosemary and drizzle some sauce over the entire ensemble. Serve immediately.

Serves 4.

[recipe adapted from Noma: Nordic Cuisine]

The results were nothing if not spectacular, and several of the component parts were truly outstanding (the crème of egg yolks and the crispy potato skins, but especially the beer-cured onions), but there was one major problem: while the scallops were a total knockout, the pork belly hadn't quite worked out. The flavor was there in spades, there was nothing wrong with the approach, but for some reason the 12-hour extra slow & low roast had dried that poor pork belly out. So the pork, the star attraction, was okay, and we still enjoyed it--after three days, we kinda had to--but it was far from phenomenal, far from the succulent pork extravagance we were expecting. Longtime readers will know that we've had all kinds of success with roasting pork for eight-hour spells at a considerably higher temperature, so I think I'd just adjust the cooking time--no more than eight hours?--if I tried this recipe again, but let's not kid ourselves: we were a little disappointed.

Nevertheless, the next day the leftovers made for a pretty great sandwich consisting of pork belly, beer-cured onions, arugula, mayonnaise, and that special sauce in a hard roll. It looked something like this

fig. f: pork belly sandwich

and it made for a fine sandwich. Michelle quipped that it looked like Nordic banh-mi, but I wasn't willing to go quite that far.

And while I was eating my pork belly sandwich the next day, I got the idea of using the same basic formula--that aromatic rub, those beer-cured onions--to prepare a dish that would cut down on my prep time considerably and that was guaranteed to turn out perfectly. I was pretty sure that you could use that basic formula to great effect with a pork roast or a pork tenderloin, but the fundamental idea behind Noma's dish had to do with working magic with a lowly cut of meat, so I went with a pork chop--a plain, old pork chop.

A few days later, I whipped up a half version of Noma's pork rub

1/4 tbsp juniper berries
1/4 tbsp coriander seeds
1/4 tbsp green anise
1/4 tbsp caraway
1/2 rosemary branch, leaves removed, minced
1/2 thyme branch, minced
7 g / 1 tbsp salt

and rubbed it all over two healthy pork chops, then I refrigerated them overnight to let the rub work its charms. The next day I took my pork chops out of the refrigerator, wiped the rub off, and allowed them to reach something approaching room temperature, I made some more of Noma's special sauce, quickly braised some parsnips, mixed a salad, and took the leftover beer-cured onions from our previous adventure out of the refrigerator, and when the pork chops were at room temperature, I heated 1 tbsp grapeseed oil in a well-seasoned skillet over medium-high heat. Roughly ten minutes later--including about eight or nine minutes of cooking time for the chops--we sat down to this:

fig. g: Noma-style pork chop

This version maybe wasn't quite as dramatically Nordic as our previous meal had been, but it also wasn't as manic. And it was good. Damn good.

aj