Tuesday, November 26, 2013

Corn Rye

Corn and rye make for one of my all-time favourite combinations, but this recipe has nothing to do with corn mash or bourbon.  It's just a really nice recipe for a sourdough rye, featuring a couple of ingredients that are quintessentially American:  corn and molasses.

I got the idea after picking up some beautiful stoneground corn meal from Dexter's Grist Mill in Sandwich, MA back in August when we were visiting Cape Cod.

Dexter's corn meal fig. a:  corn meal

This corn meal was excellent, but it was also much coarser than I was used to, and a little too coarse to make my corn bread with.  (Read:  rustic!).  I had the idea of using it in a sourdough mixture so that the corn meal and its kernels would have the time to go through a slow fermentation process, retaining their size and their colour, but becoming more pleasantly edible.  I've always loved the combination of corn and rye, and bringing them together with molasses in a riff on my Danish sourdough rye made a lot of sense to me.

The results have been fantastic.  The kind of bread that you can't wait to turn into hot buttered toast in the morning.  The kind of bread that makes lunchtime a true joy.  The kind of bread that has you running home in the evening so that you can enjoy some more with your dinner.  That kind of bread.

My sourdough method is borrowed entirely from Chad Robertson's from Tartine Bread.  Moreover, my rye loaves--like my basic rye, my caraway rye, my Danish rye, and now this Corn Rye--are all based on Robertson's sourdough rye recipe from the very same book.  For optimum results, you should follow his directions closely.  Here, I'm just providing the measurements (in weight) and baker's percentages that you need to make two large loaves (roughly 2 pounds each).

Sourdough Corn Rye 
200 grams leaven (20%) 
600 grams warm water (80º F, ideally) + an additional 50 grams of warm water (65%)
100 grams fancy molasses (10%)  
[total hydration:  750 grams (75%), including the molasses] 
600 grams AP flour (60%) 
300 grams rye flour (30%) 
100 grams stoneground corn meal (preferably coarse) (10%) 
 [total flour:  1 kg (100%)]
20 grams of kosher salt (2%)
Photographic documentation:

Untitled  fig. b:  after first shaping

Here, the loaves have been given their initial shaping.  They've rested for 30 minutes.  They're just about to get their final shaping.

Untitled fig. c:  after second shaping

Here's loaf #1 after its final shaping.

Untitled fig. d:  before dusting

This loaf has received its final shaping and it's been placed in a rice flour-dusted towel in a bowl.  It's also upside down.  It will get dusted with more rice flour, it will get covered by the towel, and it will then go through its final fermentation process over the course of a few hours.

Untitled fig. e:  dusted!

Now the same loaf has been dusted, and it's waiting to get wrapped in the towel.

Untitled fig. f:  half loaf, full loaf

These are the two finished loaves.  One is already half-gone.

Untitled fig. g:  corn rye

Finally, this is an interior view of that half loaf.  You can see plenty of evidence of the coarse corn meal.  And it it looks moist, that's because it is.  In fact, it's a real keeper.  Still delicious days after baking (if you haven't eaten it by then).

This would  make a great loaf for a Thanksgiving feast.  It could also make for an excellent bread stuffing, so you might want to bake some extra and let it stale a little before the Big Day.  Just stick with those traditional, honest-to-goodness American flavours when you construct your stuffing.

Happy baking.  And happy Thanksgiving!

aj

Tuesday, November 05, 2013

Top Ten #52

1.  Joseph Conrad, Heart of Darkness

Mammane Sani, son orgue, et son ami

2.  Mammane Sani et son Orgue, La musique electronique du Niger (Sahel Sounds)

sample track:  "Lamru"

lola title

3.  Lola (1961), dir. Jacques Demy

smoked andouille

4.  homemade smoked andouille sausage

Untitled

5.  bazaar season, Montreal

6.  outdoor screening of Pink Floyd:  Live at Pompeii (1972), dir. Maben, 2013 Montréal Festival du Nouveau Cinéma

sample track:  "Echoes"

Untitled

7.  Hudson Valley + the Catskills in the fall

8. Vin Vignerons Vinyles, SAT, Montreal, November 4, 2013 (whoa, Nelly!)

death family photo

9.  A Band Called Death (2012), dir. Covino & Howlett

sample track:  "Politicians in My Eyes"

10.  leftover turkey, and the wonderful things you can do with it

aj

Monday, November 04, 2013

Divinyles

Vin vignerous vinyles fig. a:  VVV

Will "Vin Vignerons Vinyles" be the blowout of the year (possibly even the decade), as some are predicting?

What happens when you bottle a talent pool that includes Catherine Breton, The Four Horseman of the Oenocalypse, Foodlab, Joe Beef, Joshua Applestone, Café Myriade, and Walshy Fire & Jillionaire in the confines of the Sociéte des Arts Technologiques and agitate vigorously?

Will the bottle explode?

There's only one way to find out.

Tonight!
Monday, November 4
SAT
1201, boul. St-Laurent
from 7pm until...
$45 ("admission et bouffe")

Brought to you by the good, good people at Vinnovation.

aj


Tuesday, October 22, 2013

Thanksgiving Just Keeps on Giving

apple pickin' 1 fig. a:  apple-picker

Canadian Thanksgiving 2013 began with our annual apple-picking excursion to Covey Hill.  There, we picked a couple of buckets of apples (Empires, Northern Spys, Russets, and Spartans, mainly), bought a couple of baskets more,

Untitled fig. b:  apples

and picked up some Flemish Beauty pears, as well.

Untitled fig. c:  pears

The sun was bright, the leaves were vibrant, and it was downright warm (felt more like peach-picking weather than apple-picking weather), and we got a chance to get all caught up with our good friend M. Safian.  And on the drive back we started thinking about all the possibilities we now possessed in the back of our car:  apple pie, baked pears, apple strudel, pear chutney, corn bread stuffing, squash soup, and so on.

The next day, when we actually got around to making our Thanksgiving meal, it was quite the spread.  Not surprisingly, both apples and pears played an important part.

The menu:

smoked Cajun andouille appetizer
sweet potato & peanut soup (with apple cider) 
roasted turkey
corn bread stuffing (with apples & pears)
roasted romanesco cauliflower
roasted Brussels sprouts
roasted carrots
mashed potatoes (with turnips and parsnips)
cranberry sauce
Georgian plum sauce 
mixed greens salad (with apples & pears
cheese plate (with pears
apple pie
pumpkin pie

Our turkey this year was a huge hit--it was also just plain huge.  When Michelle heard through the grapevine that Société Orignal was offering turkeys raised by the one-and-only M. Bertrand, she put through an order for a "small turkey" immediately.  The turkey that she received was beautiful, and unbelievably fresh (it had just been slaughtered two days before), but it was also almost 20 pounds (!)--the very largest we'd ever made, and not exactly the ideal size for our preferred high-temperature turkey method.  Nevertheless, we soldiered on.  And by now Michelle's got this approach down to such a science that the results were truly phenomenal.  Two tricks of the trade:
1.  Salt your bird generously, inside and out, at least one day in advance, and preferably two. 
2.  When you bring your bird to room temperature before roasting it, cover the bird's breast with ice packs to keep it cool.  Remove the ice packs right before roasting.  Doing so will ensure that the breast meat does not get overcooked, but instead will turn out juicy and succulent (already, even without this fix, we found that the high-temperature method produced the juiciest birds we'd ever encountered, but if you're roasting a larger bird, like we were, this step is essential).
Our cranberries were pretty special, too.  They came from Société Orignal, as well, and they were dry-picked, not wet-harvested.  Neither of us had ever tasted a cranberry sauce with a deeper flavour.

Our stuffing was also rather deluxe.  I've been trying to convince Michelle of the merits of corn bread stuffing for years, but she's always remained steadfastly loyal to stuffing made with white bread or sourdough.  This year amounted to a breakthrough, though.  Michelle officially declared this year's model to be her very favourite of all-time.*
AEB Corn Bread Stuffing 
1 extra-large 3x batch of corn bread
onion
celery
red sweet peppers
parsley
sage
roasted hazelnuts
2 chopped apples
2 chopped pears
bourbon
salt & freshly ground black pepper
butter 
Preheat oven to 425º F. 
Sauté the onion in butter until translucent.  Add the celery and red peppers and continue sautéing until softened.  Add the corn bread, the herbs, the nuts, and the fruit and mix gently but thoroughly (preferably with your hands, once you've allowed the onion mixture to cool slightly).  Adjust the seasoning with salt & pepper.  Spritz liberally with bourbon.  Pour a generous amount of melted butter over top and mix again.  The stuffing should be just slightly moistened by the combination of bourbon and butter.   
Place in a buttered baking dish and bake for 30 minutes covered in foil, and 15 minutes uncovered.
Anyway, we thoroughly enjoyed our meal, everyone ate heartily, and we had so much left over that we sent our guests home with doggy bags--and still we had copious leftovers.  The ultimate prize, however, was that massive turkey carcass.  It still had a fair bit of meat left on it, and it had been roasted to perfection--in other words, it had all the makings of a beautiful batch of turkey broth.  So I cut it up into portions, put them in bags, and froze them.

And the next week, when all the other leftovers had disappeared days ago, and my taste for turkey was coming back to me, I got to work on my new (since last year) favourite post-Thanksgiving ritual:  making turkey gumbo.

Thing is, because making turkey gumbo is "my new... favourite post-Thanksgiving ritual," I was already thinking about the gumbo before we'd even roasted our bird.  And because I knew I wanted to make my turkey gumbo with real Cajun andouille (a spicy, smoked Louisiana classic), and I was pretty sure locating real Cajun andouille would be a little difficult 'round these parts, I made my own.  Then, because I was smoking anyways, I decided to smoke some additional turkey legs, just for the hell of it (and in case my turkey gumbo needed to be bumped up a little).  So on Thanksgiving Sunday, while Michelle had the turkey in the oven, I had the smoker smokin' away--which is how we ended up serving freshly smoked andouille as an appetizer.

How, exactly, do you make Cajun-style andouille?  Well, I based my batch on a recipe from Bruce "America's Premier Sausage Maker" Aidells:
Cajun-style Andouille 
3 tbsp sweet Hungarian paprika
2 tbsp minced garlic
2 tbsp kosher salt
2 tbsp sugar
1 tbsp freshly ground black pepper
2 tsp ground cayenne pepper
1 tsp crushed red pepper flakes
1/2 tsp dried thyme
1/4 tsp ground mace
1 tsp curing salts (optional--for cold-smoking only)
5 lbs pork butt, fat and lean separated, and cut into 2" chunks
1/2 cup water
wide hog casings 
Mix all the spices and herbs in a small bowl.  Separate the meat and the fat into two bowls, and rub each thoroughly with the spice mixture.  Cover and refrigerate overnight. 
Grind the lean meat in a meat grinder using a 3/8 inch plate.  Grind the fat using a 1/4-inch plate.  Mix the meat and fat together in a large bowl, add the cold water, and knead and squeeze until the water is absorbed and the spices are thoroughly blended. 
Stuff the mixture into wide hog casings, and shape into medium-sized links. 
If you are hot smoking, dry for at least two hours in a cool place, then hot smoke at about 225º F, turning every 30 minutes, until an instant-read thermometer inserted in the end of a sausage shows 155º to 160º F.  This should take about 1 1/2-2 hours.
If you are cold smoking, you'll have to add the curing salts during the first step, and carefully follow instructions on how to cold smoke.  Aidells recommends an extra-long cold-smoking period for Cajun andouille:  "at least 12 hours" (!). 
Hot-smoked andouille sausages are ready to eat as soon as they've been smoked.  Cold-smoked sausages are not--they must be fully cooked first.
[recipe from Bruce Aidell's Complete Sausage Book]
Untitled
smoked andouille figs. d & e:  andouille:  before & after

While you're at it, might as well smoke a few turkey legs, right?  Just brine them for at least a few hours, and preferably overnight, then hot smoke them alongside your sausages, making sure to mist them with apple juice every 30 minutes or so.  Smoke until the juices run clear when you slice down to the bone, about 1 1/2 to 2 hours.

The results?  The skin turned out a little rubbery, but the meat was dreamy:  incredibly juicy and wonderfully smoky.  I just peeled the skin off and sliced the meat as thinly as possible before serving.  And I made sure to keep some for my gumbo.

smoked turkey fig. f:  smoked turkey
AEB Turkey & Sausage Gumbo 
for the broth: 
1 turkey carcass (recuperate as much quality meat from this carcass as possible, and put aside for the gumbo)
onions
carrots
potatoes
celery
garlic
2 bay leaves
12 peppercorns
salt to taste 
Make yourself a rich turkey broth by adding all the ingredients above to a large stock pot, covering with water, bringing the pot to a boil, and simmering for at least a few hours.  Make sure to skim the fat thoroughly.  Turkey broth might be my absolute favourite, and this method ought to produce much more than the 4-5 cups of stock you need for the gumbo.  Freeze it and save it for another worthy occasion. 
for the gumbo: 
recuperated turkey meat from the carcass 
recuperated meat from home-smoked turkey pieces (optional, but highly recommended)    
bones from home-smoke turkey pieces (again, optional, but highly recommended)  
4 smoked Cajun andouille sausages (highly recommended), or some other quality smoked sausage (like a kielbasa, for instance), cut into 1/4" "coins"
1 batch Cajun roux (made with 1/2 cup vegetable oil and 1/2 cup AP flour [you can find complete instructions on making a true Cajun roux here])
1 large onion, diced
3-4 stalks of celery, diced
2-3 sweet red peppers
1 green pepper (preferably something flavourful, like an Italian fryer or a cubanelle)
4-5 cups rich turkey broth
2 bunches scallions, white & green parts, washed & chopped
1 small bunch fresh parsley, chopped
4-6 fresh sage leaves, julienned
kosher salt & freshly ground black pepper
1 tbsp gumbo filé 
As John Thorne would say, "First, you make your roux."  When your true Cajun roux is as deep and dark as you like it, add your chopped onions, turn the heat back up to medium or medium-low, and sauté until soft.  Add the celery and peppers and sauté for a few minutes more.   
Slowly add the broth and stir or whisk it in carefully, so that your roux doesn't separate. 
Add the bones from the smoked turkey pieces (if using), the scallions, parsley, and sage and bring to a boil, then turn down the heat and simmer your gumbo gently for about 1 1/2 hours, or until it shimmers.  Afterwards, if it needs to be skimmed of excess fat, do so.   
Add your turkey meat and your andouille.  Stir in the gumbo filé and simmer gently for another 30 minutes.  Adjust the seasoning, if need be. 
Serve over or alongside steamed white rice, with some cold beers, and have a bottle or two of hot sauce on hand for anyone who wants to bump up the spice quotient a bit higher.
Note:  Of course,  you don't absolutely need a leftover turkey carcass to make this gumbo, nor do you need to make your own smoked andouille.  You could easily make something that's nearly as tasty with fresh turkey or chicken pieces, some store-bought smoked sausage, and some chicken or poultry stock.  But making full use of your leftover Thanksgiving turkey and its carcass is pretty satisfying, and few dishes make it shine like a turkey & sausage gumbo.
[recipe inspired by one that appeared in the November 2011 issue of Garden & Gun, and that came from Justin Devillier of New Orleans' La Petite Grocery]
And when I'd eaten turkey & sausage gumbo for two days (and loved every minute of it), I made leftovers with my leftovers:  Cajun-style hot turkey sandwiches.  Mmm-hmm.  Laissez bon temps rouler!
AEB Cajun-style Hot Turkey Sandwiches 
leftover Turkey & Sausage gumbo, with lots of sauce
1 or more slices of white bread (preferably a homemade sourdough) 
Heat up your leftover gumbo.  Place a slice of white bread on a plate.  When the gumbo has been heated through, pour it over the slice of bread, making sure the entire slice is covered in sauce.  Serve immediately, preferably with boiled and buttered peas and mashed potatoes.
Talk about a harvest!  This year's Canadian Thanksgiving just keeps giving and giving...  Can't wait for American Thanksgiving!

aj

* Of course, I'm pretty sure she does that pretty much every time we make stuffing of any kind.  We're both huge fans of the genre.

Saturday, October 12, 2013

As Easy as 3-2-1, rev. ed.

2013 was definitely the summer of ribs around here.  We started with ribs (among other smoky delicacies, like brisket and sausages) back on a chilly afternoon in April when Szef Bartek and I kicked off our outdoor BBQ season,

ribs & shoulder fig. a:  ribs & brisket

and the enthusiasm for baby backs and spare ribs never really abated.  And now, with this incredible fall weather we've been having, the festival of smoke & ribs continues.  It seems unlikely that it'll last much longer, but you never know.  In the hopes that it will...

I've been making slow-smoked, ultra-tender "dry"-style ribs for a number of years now, and I've always been open to trying out new techniques--including "wet" styles--from time to time, but my "dry"-style ribs remained my preferred model.  This year, however, I started working with a hybrid "competition"-style approach that appeared in Saveur's "BBQ Nation" issue a couple of years back (July 2011), and I really liked the results.

BBQ nation fig. b:  BBQ nation

The method, which comes from a Richmond-based BBQ competition veteran named Tuffy Stone, starts "dry" (just dry rub, with a bit of misting), makes great use of a "crutch" (where you wrap or house your BBQ to accelerate the cooking process and add both moisture and flavour), and finishes "wet" (where sauce is used to baste the BBQ).  I'd become a little more open to a "wet" finish because I'd finally developed a tomato-based barbecue sauce of my own that I was really happy with (one with plenty of bourbon in it), and I found that it married well with this "competition" approach.

The technique in question is what's known as the 3-2-1 approach.  You can find all manner of commentary on this method throughout the most BBQ-obsessed regions of the Internet, but the essentials are pretty simple.  Basically, once you've applied a dry rub to your ribs, you smoke them for three hours, misting them every 30 minutes; then you remove them from your smoker, slather them with a magic elixir, wrap them in foil, and put them back on your smoker for two hours; and, finally, you unwrap your ribs, and return them to the smoker for one hour, basting them with your BBQ sauce after 30 minutes.  Hence, the 3-2-1.

In case you can't picture it, this is what they look like going into that final stage:

final stage fig. c:  entering the final stage

If you can't tell, the results are fantastic.  In fact, you might find dinner guests hoisting half-devoured ribs up into the air and proclaiming, "Now, THIS is what I call a rib!," after which they'll likely dip their rib into a little more sauce and finish the job--with gusto.  My only caveat:  make sure to make enough.  I recommend a few racks if you're serving them as an appetizer to a crowd, and roughly half a rack each if you're serving them as a meal.  Plus, you definitely want at least a few as leftovers.

leftovers fig. d:  leftovers! 1

In fact, you might even want to think about having some for breakfast the next morning.

ribs for breakfast fig. e:  leftovers! 2

Definitely not the worst idea...

I've made variations on this method numerous times over the last several months, and I've found it foolproof.  Well, maybe not exactly.  Like all good barbecue, it takes some advanced planning and preparation and plenty of TLC.

A few pointers:

1.  Maintaining a consistent heat, one suitable for slow-and-low smoking, is key to all great barbecue, of course.  I like to keep things hovering around 225º throughout the entire process.  You definitely don't need a fancy smoker to pull these ribs off.  You don't even need a smoker at all--a good ole Weber barbecue will do the trick.  It'll just require a little more attention to the heat on your part, and you'll have to be a little more clever when it comes to creating indirect heat.

2.  Use an aromatic, complementary wood to smoke with.  Stone recommends apple wood for his ribs; I'm partial to hickory.

rubbed fig. f:  rubbed

3.  Stone's dry rub is excellent, but any kind that has a basis in sweet paprika, salt, black pepper, and brown sugar will work well here.  His recipe recommends rubbing the ribs shortly before beginning to smoke them.  I prefer rubbing them the night before to let the flavour sink in.

4.  Mist the ribs with apple juice (following Stone's lead) or some kind of sweet & spicy vinegar-based concoction.  Do so every 30 minutes for that first 3 hours.

drizzled fig. g:  drizzled

5.  Stone's magic elixir that he drizzles his ribs with is a combination of butter, honey, and light brown sugar.  I swear by the butter, but you can play around with the sweeteners.  Maple syrup, for instance, is pretty ideal--and it also lends a little local/regional flavour to the mix.

6.  Use a premium BBQ sauce to finish the ribs with, preferably one of your own design.  Stone's, once again, is very good, but I'm partial to my bourbon-laced sauce.

Serve your ribs with your premium BBQ sauce and a vinegar-based BBQ sauce, if at all possible.  Have plenty of BBQ-friendly sides on hand, too.  I'm thinking cole slaw, baked beans, potato salad, and possibly even some corn bread.

Now dig in, and keep on smokin' in the free world!

aj

Friday, September 27, 2013

Plum Assignment

fall plums fig. a:  fall plums

Michelle is back in the pages of Urban Expressions discussing one of her absolute favourite topics:  plums.  She's of Czech heritage, after all.  And there's a reason she named our line of preserves Švestka.

svestka fig. b:  Czech plum

Anyway, it's definitely the season for them, those beautiful Italian and Mont-Royal plums are the last of the year's stone fruits, and they're so versatile:  you can prepare them so many different ways across the sweet to savoury spectrum, from compote, jam, jelly, and butter, to cake, torte, tart, and pudding, to chutneys and pickles.

The featured recipe is for Michelle's beautiful plum and walnut torte.

czech torte fig. c:  Czech plum torte

It's described as being for a "more adventurous baker," and, yes, it is a little involved, but it's absolutely worth the effort.  And if you decide the torte's too much trouble, you could always just make a batch of plum compote--the recipe is included.

Once again, you can find the article and the accompanying recipe here.

Now all you have to do is get out to one of our friendly neighbourhood farmers' markets to pick up a bunch of those plum dandies.

aj

Friday, September 20, 2013

Top Ten #51

CC 2

P1030622

P1030630

IMG_0902

1.  Cape Cod!

2.  Adam Leith Gollner, The Book of Immortality (Doubleday Canada)

3.  dinner for seven at Impasto, Mtl

4.  Steve Gunn, Time Off (Paradise of Bachelors)

sample track:  "Lurker"



(And if you're lucky enough to live in the NYC area, or to be just passing through, be sure to catch Steve Gunn, along with Endless Boogie and Tom Blacklung & the Smokestacks @ 285 Kent in Brooklyn on Monday, September 23rd.)

museum_hours_film_still_a_l

5.  Museum Hours (2012), dir. Cohen

(watch the trailer)

6.  late-night revelry at Le Vin Papillon, Mtl

7.  Faces, Long Player (Warner Bros.)

sample track:  "Maybe I'm Amazed"



8.  AEB chicken paprikash + sourdough caraway rye (Igen!)

9.  Girls (season 2)

farm-to-table VT

10.  Farm-to-Table VT (including Misery Loves Company, Pistou, and Vergennes Laundry)

aj

Thursday, September 12, 2013

Win-win-win, rev. ed.

2 burlington farmers' market LO fig. a:  Burlington Farmers' Market

The Green Mountain State's Green Revolution continues to flourish, and it's transformed our diminutive neighbour to the south into a leader when it comes to small farming, organic agriculture, and sustainable land management.  This has resulted in a teeming farmers' market scene, a thriving network of cooperative grocery stores spilling over with local organics, and a vibrant (and talented!) farm-to-table dining scene.  Everyone's a winner:  farmers, chefs, and food lovers.

You can read all about it in my latest contribution to the Montreal Gazette.

farm-to-table VT fig. b:  print edition

Want to check things out for yourself, live and in-person?  The article comes with a concise guide to farm-to-table Vermont, plus write-ups about some of our favourite new dining spots in Vermont's Champlain Valley,

3 misery loves company LO fig. c:  roast beef sandwich, Misery Loves Company

like Winooski's Misery Loves Company,

vergennes laundry plum pop LO fig. d:  roasted plum pop, Vergennes Laundry

Vergennes' Vergennes Laundry, and Burlington's Pistou, all of which are doing particularly delicious things with that farm-to-table ethos.

We've expressed this numerous times before, but it bears repeating:  welovermont!

Check it out!

And if you like that article, you might want to check out this oldie-but-goodie, too.

aj

Sunday, September 08, 2013

Cape Cod Capers

CC 3 fig. a:  geography

Ah, Cape Cod!  Your sandy features and abundant coastline hold so many opportunities, so many pleasures!  And your lobsters are so disproportionately large (and tasty)!

scan fig. b:  nostalgia

We're already so nostalgic for you.  It's only been a little over a week since we returned, but it feels like decades.

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fig. c:  dunes


We miss your sand dunes and your foliage,

P1030619 fig. d:  ark

your quaint little towns and villages with their whimsical sense of style,

P1030627 fig. e:  shells

and your abundant beachcombing opportunities.

P1030632 fig. f:  lobstah & chowdah

But most of all we miss your seafood stores and markets.  Places like Hatch'sMac's, the Chatham Fish Pier Market, and George's (motto:  "George's plaice has sole."), with their lobster rolls, their beautiful fresh and smoked fish, their briny, inexpensive Wellfleet oysters, and their luscious littlenecks

P1030630 fig. g:  steamahs

and succulent (and sometimes even sandless!) steamers.  Because of you, we ate plentiful seafood each and every day, and in every possible way:  raw, steamed, grilled, pan-fried, etc.

We knew we'd miss your seafood, so we brought some home with us

IMG_0915 fig. h:  sea food

in those lovely lined bags of yours.  We brought back delicious flounder and smoked bluefish, but we were especially excited to be bringing back clams:

P1030647 fig. i:  littlenecks

both littlenecks

P1030651 fig. j:  steamahs

and steamers.  You see, we had it in mind to make some real clam chowder, so we made sure to pick up the other essentials that are so critical to good, old-fashioned chowder-making:

P1030649 fig. k:  bacon

smoky bacon (from New Hampshire),

P1030650 fig. l:  potatoes

seasonal potatoes (from Quebec), and milk and cream (from Vermont).

You can find clam chowder all up and down the Cape, of course, but it's a little difficult to find one to our liking.  The regional preference is for starchy, even stodgy, clam chowder that's heavy with thickeners, but we prefer ours thinner and lighter, with any and all starchiness coming strictly from the potatoes and any crackers or pilot biscuits you might choose to top it off with.  The trick is to chop up your potatoes "thick/thin":  in irregular shapes that are narrower at one end and that cook irregularly.  If you chop 'em and cook 'em just right, the potatoes themselves will thicken your chowder just so.

Clam Chowder 
36 littleneck clams*
125 ml high-quality clam juice [like Bar Harbor] (optional)
4 strips smoky bacon
1 sweet onion, finely chopped
water or high-quality clam juice
9-10 small-medium potatoes, cut thick-thin
1 1/2 cups whole milk
1/2 cup cooking cream
salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
common crackers (optional, but highly recommended) 
If you want a particularly rich clam broth, pour 250 ml of clam juice in a large pot, add the clams, cover the pot, and bring to a boil.  When the liquid comes to a boil, lower the heat, and steam the clams until they've all opened (about 6-10 minutes). 
If you don't have access to a high-quality clam juice, just use the same amount of water instead, and follow the directions above. 
When the clams have opened, use tongs to place them in a bowl.  And when the clams have cooled enough to handle, remove the clam meat from its shell and chop finely. 
Strain the liquid in the pot along with any broth in the bowl through a fine strainer lined with a paper coffee filter, or just pour it off carefully, leaving the grit behind. 
Fry the bacon in a pan until crispy.  Pour the bacon fat into a pot and sauté the onion until translucent.  Meanwhile, dice the bacon.   
Measure the amount of broth and top off with water or clam juice to make a generous 2 cups.  Add this to the pot with the onion, as well as the diced bacon.  Add the potatoes, bring to a simmer, and cook until they are still firm but done.  Stir the milk and cream into the broth and add salt and pepper as necessary.  If your clams are fresh and briny and if you've used clam juice, you shouldn't need much, if any, salt. 
Bring the broth back to a gentle simmer and add the clam meat.  Do not let the chowder boil.  Cook the chowder at the barest simmer for another 2-3 minutes. 
The chowder will be at its best if you age it briefly, keeping it warm, but not hot, for an hour or so.  Afterwards, just bring the chowder bring it back to temperature, adjust the seasoning, and serve, preferably with common crackers (especially common crackers that have been split and toasted in the oven.) 
Serves 4-6 as an opening course. 
[recipe based closely on a recipe from John Thorne's Serious Pig
* You can also make a nice clam chowder with steamers, but we saved our steamers for, well..., steaming.
The other revelation of our Cape Cod excursion had to do not with fruits de mer, but with fruits du bord de la mer.

Michelle had read about Cape Cod's legendary beach plums years ago.  When we we got an invitation to vacation there, she tried to find out some more about them and discovered that we'd be there at the height of their season--mid- to late-August.  The thing is, how do you go about finding a fruit that's totally wild and that you can only procure from foragers?  Especially when the foragers in question are known to keep their sources secret--like mushroom hunters and their troves of prized chanterelles and morels.

We had no idea how we'd find beach plums, but we were determined to keep our eyes peeled for them.  And, in the end, it took us less than 24 hours to score both beach plums and another wild coastal fruit we had no idea even existed:  wild apricots.  But we found in them in a most unlikely spot:  at a flea market (!).

We'd been told that the weekend flea market at the Wellfleet Drive-In was a must--and it was!--but we had no idea that there'd be a grizzled old hippie selling foraged fruit along with his carved wood C.R.A.P.**  God bless him!  He had an amazing array of carved driftwood whales and other folk art treasures, and his beach plums and wild apricots were beautiful (much, much smaller than we would have imagined, but beautiful nonetheless).

IMG_0902










fig. m:  wild beach plums & apricots

When we got them back to our beach house,

P1030612









fig. n:  sorting



Michelle set about sorting through them.  And the next morning she made an exceedingly precious

P1030653 fig. o:  preserves

small batch of wild apricot and beach plum preserves.  Fresh, both fruit were a little too tart to be pleasant--but sweetened and cooked, they turned into the deepest, most delicious preserves.  The beach plums almost had a wine flavour to them, while the apricots were redolent of almond.

We brought back numerous souvenirs from our trip to Cape Cod,

P1030644 fig. p:  souvenirs

P1030646 fig. q:  ole no. 69

but there's no question the most highly prized were those two jars of beach house-made preserves.

Of course, there are other, more conventional ways of scoring traditional Cape Cod preserves, like beach plum.  And some of them are quite excellent, indeed.  Take the Chatham Jam and Jelly Shop,

P1030633 fig. r:  jams & jellies

in (you guessed it!) Chatham, where you can find dozens upon dozens of house-made jam & jellies, including a whole assortment of wild fruit preserves.

We kept the small batch we made at the beach house for ourselves, but we brought back extras to stock our pantry and give to our friends and family.

Ah, Cape Cod!  We miss you so.

aj

** The acronym stands for Cape Recycled Art Project, if memory serves me right.

p.s. TY to R & MA for making this happen--such a great time!