Thrill of the grill 1

Sure, there's something undeniably magical about barbecue that's been cooked slow and low with patience and care, the kind of barbecue that's the focus of Saveur's June/July 2011 "BBQ Nation" double issue. We love the entire culture that surrounds this heritage form of barbecue. We love all the fussing, the beer-drinking, and the jawing that goes into an all-day barbecue session. And we never cease to be amazed by the transformative power of that holy smoke coupled with the mild heat from those ashy coals.

fig. a: thrill of the grill

But sometimes you just want the pure thrill of the grill. You want the slight blackening, the light smokiness, the caramelized flavors, and the primal pleasures of cooking directly over flames. You want the payoff to come sooner rather than later. You want to take full advantage of the fact that cooking over a hot grill can be quick and easy.

Among our favorite sources for this kind of grilling are Rose Gray and Ruth Rogers, the chefs behind London's legendary River Cafe and the authors of the utterly brilliant "Easy" series: River Cafe Cookbook Easy (2003) and Italian Two Easy: Simple Recipes From the London River Cafe (2006). Both cookbooks fall under the "simple recipes for busy people" genre, but their concision, their clarity, and their clever minimalist design put them in the top of their class.

Years ago, we featured a recipe of theirs from River Cafe Cookbook Easy that we'd adapted for the grill. The recipe was for pork chops with lemon, and Gray and Rogers called for it to be executed it in an ovenproof griddle pan, but it was a lovely late-spring afternoon and we were very much in a grilling state of mind, and our simple adaptation of their simple recipe (two ingredients!) turned out beautifully. We could have just as easily chosen from the dozens of grilling recipes contained in Gray and Rogers' two books, but, in that particular case, we started with a very specific ingredient: the pork chops.

One recipe that we haven't had to adapt, and that's been a favorite around here recently, is a recipe that appears in the "grilled fish & meat" chapter of Italian Two Easy: Simple Recipes From the London River Cafe and that bears a typically matter-of-fact title: Flattened Sardine, Chile, Lemon.

fig. b: sardines by River Cafe

Four ingredients--that's it, that's all. And once you've figured out how to butterfly your sardines, you're almost to the finish line, because flattened sardines cook even faster than whole ones.

The lemon and the olive oil are no-brainers. They're both staples of Mediterranean grilling. It's the butterfly technique, the use of the lemon zest, and the added kick of the chiles that are the stroke of genius here.

Flattened Sardine, Chile, Lemon

16 sardines
4 dried hot chiles
5 lemons
extra-virgin olive oil

To flatten the sardines, cut off the head and then prize open the fish. Press down to loosen the bone, then remove it from the flesh, pulling gently with your fingers.

Crumble the chiles. Finely grate the zest from the three lemons; halve the remaining lemons.

Prepare the grill.

Rub the flesh of the sardines with chile, salt, pepper, and lemon zest.

fig. c: sardines by AEB

Place skin-side down on the grill and cook for 1 to 2 minutes. Turn over and grill flesh-side down for 1 to 2 minutes longer.

Drizzle with olive oil, and serve with lemons.

[recipe from Italian Two Easy: Simple Recipes From the London River Cafe, by Rose Gray and Ruth Rogers]

A couple of additional notes:

1) Because the sardines we've been using have been rather delicate, we've found that they cook best on the outer edges of a medium-hot grill (the cooking times remain the same--about two minutes per side). We've been saving the center of our grill for the assortment of vegetables we've been grilling simultaneously: mushrooms, scallions, fennel, ramps, asparagus, etc.

2) Gray and Rogers don't specify, but you're going to need a spatula to handle those delicate sardines once you've placed them on the grill. Other implements tend to tear the poor dears.

This recipe is, well... easy. It's also incredibly delicious--addictive, even. The only trick is finding a good source for your fresh sardines. This is reasonably easy in some parts of North America (like Northern California), but not so easy in others.

Montreal has such a large number of citizens of Portuguese and Italian descent that the demand for sardines is high, but our experience has been that some days of the week are much better than others. We've been having very good luck on Mondays recently, so our sardine fiestas have tended to be on Mondays.

This recipe makes for a great starter for a group, but it also makes for a great light meal for two, with a salad, some bread, and a crisp white. We can attest to that. These sardines--delicate, crispy, piquant, and easy--have been the taste of late spring around here. And, like I said, they're addictive. They might very well become the taste of the summer of 2011 too.

aj

p.s. Rose Gray passed away in early 2010. May she rest in peace.

Got bread?, pt. 1

fig. a: bread, bread

Good. Me too.

Of course, with bread this good, you barely need to do anything to it. But, then again, there's no need to be a puritanical about it. If you don't have access to "elemental bread" from a real, artisanal bakery (like Tartine, Red Hen, or Bohemian) you can bake your own, any time you like, no matter where you live.* So, go ahead, dress it up a little.

There are obviously plenty of different ways you could put those beautiful loaves to work, but Chad Robertson's Tartine Bread really is a great cookbook on top of being an exceptional baking book. It's chock full of all kinds of tempting recipes involving fresh and staled bread, including soups (white gazpacho, sopa de ajo, North African breakfast soup, etc.), salads (panzanellas, kale caesar, escalivada, etc.), sandwiches (pan bagnat, meatball sandwiches, bruschetta of all sorts, etc.), and a number of other mains and sides (tomates provençales, porchetta, savory bread pudding, etc.).

One that's become an instant favorite here at AEB, and that happens to be particularly seasonal at the moment, is Robertson's fresh chickpea hummus, which he serves as an open-faced sandwich on fried bread with olive oil-packed sardines, hard-boiled egg, and cilantro (!). Sounds inviting, right? It is. And his fresh chickpea hummus is unlike any hummus we've ever had before--lighter and more herbal (vernal, even), with a real chlorophyll punch.

Where to begin? Well, first you're going to need two pounds of fresh chickpeas. Dried and canned chickpeas are pretty much ubiquitous at this point in time, but fresh chickpeas aren't. So you'll probably have to hit up one of your better Mediterranean/Middle Eastern greengrocers. We got ours at Chez Nino, at Jean-Talon Market, and they looked something like this.

fig. b: fresh chickpeas by the bag

Then you're going to have to shell them. This takes a while, because there's no way to cheat and do them en masse--you've got to do them one by one, with your fingers. They're not nearly as finicky as fava beans, though, so don't worry. Just put on a record, pour yourself a drink, relax, and start peeling. Get a friend to help you, and it'll go twice as fast.

Once you get into it, it's actually kind of fun. There's something of the pleasure of popping bubble wrap to them, but this is endlessly more rewarding. Trust me. Instead of being left with plastic and air, you're left with something that's pretty and edible. The best are those nice full ones. They tend to be easier to shell, but they're also ripe and obviously full of flavor (try a raw one, if you don't believe me), and they also do a better job of filling your bowl. The very best are the twins, which are as cute as... well... two peas in a pod.**

fig. c: little twin peas

When you're done, you'll have a pile of freshly shelled fresh chickpeas that looks something like this.

fig. d: fresh chickpeas, shelled

And once you have those, and you've assembled all the other ingredients, you can really get started.

Open-Faced Sandwiches with Fresh Chickpea Hummus and Sardines, a.k.a. The Hummus Sardwich

For the hummus:

2 pounds fresh chickpeas (a.k.a. garbanzo beans), shelled
3 cloves garlic
3 tbsp sesame tahini
12 fresh mint leaves
juice of 1 lemon
1/2 tsp salt
1 cup extra-virgin olive oil

For the sandwiches:

olive oil
2 slices fresh or day-old bread (Robertson recommends his Whole-Wheat Bread, but we've found that his Country Bread is our favorite)
1 hard-boiled egg
one 3.75-oz can olive oil-packed sardines
1/2 cup chopped fresh cilantro

To make the hummus, bring a pot of water to a boil. Fill a bowl with ice water and place it nearby. Add the chickpeas and garlic to the boiling water and cook for 2 minutes. Drain and transfer to the ice water to cool them, then drain again.

Put the chickpeas, garlic, tahini, mint, lemon juice, and salt in a food processor. Process until smooth. With the motor on, add the olive oil in a steady stream until the hummus has the consistency you like. Adjust the seasoning.

Pour 1/4 inch of olive oil into a skillet and heat over medium-high heat. Add the bread and fry until deep golden brown and very crisp, about 3 minutes. Turn and fry until deep golden brown and crisp on the second side too.

Press the hard-boiled egg through a sieve like this.

fig. e: boiled egg, sieve

Spread the hummus on the fried bread and top with sardines. Garnish with the sieved egg and chopped cilantro and serve.

fig. f: hummus sardwich

Enjoy. Heartily.

Serves two, with plenty of leftover hummus to be used as you see fit.

[based very closely on a recipe entitled "Sardines and Fresh Garbanzo Hummus" in Chad Robertson's Tartine Bread]

If you're not big on the idea of sardines, just leave them out and make the fresh chickpea hummus. It really is something else. Serve it on its own, as you would a traditional hummus. Or make a sandwich with grilled vegetables, like artichoke hearts, red peppers, or asparagus.

Just make sure to make it sometime soon. Spring is slipping away, and so is the season for fresh chickpeas.

aj

* Well, maybe not exactly "any time you like" and "no matter where you live," but nearly.

** Not unlike these guys:

fig. g: two peas in a pod