Posts tagged bon appetit
Posts tagged bon appetit
Please excuse my really unattractive phone photo.
Oh, Bon Appetit. The January Editor’s Letter was terrible. But the January issues in general tend to be my favorite, with more interesting, simple, healthy-ish recipes than usual, and this one had a bunch of appealing recipes. And honestly, I’ve come to really enjoy hate-reading certain sections, so it’s positive all around.
I think this is actually a breakfast. I mean, the recipes were part of a feature on Japanese-style breakfasts. I ate it for dinner. It was great.
This meal includes a bunch of component parts, so it’s not one of those whip-up-in-20-minutes-from-start-to-finish meals. But all of the component parts are easy, and almost all can be done in advance.
For this I made: rice (I want to say I used our rice cooker, which I enjoy enormously, but probably I just made instant rice), teriyaki sauce, braised kale, teriyaki mushrooms, poached salmon. The teriyaki sauce is fantastic. I’m sad that I’m 31 and just now discovering it.
For some reason I rarely make braised kale, even though I love it. I’ve been hearing people talk about being “over” kale a lot lately, and I could just be very behind the times (I am), but I am NOT over kale. I love cooked kale. It is my favorite hearty green by far. So that’s where I stand on that controversy.
Wash your kale and remove the stems. Chop. Dump into a large pan with a little bit of chicken stock and a bit of butter. Simmer, tossing with tongs, until cooked. Or just leave the kale leaves a little bit wet, and put some olive oil in the pan, and cook, tossing, until done.
And here’s a recipe for teriyaki poached salmon, which is really delicious and a very un-smelly way of cooking salmon (as opposed to every single other way of cooking salmon, which doesn’t keep me from cooking salmon, but I know it does for some of you). I will tell you the secret of all salmon right now: don’t overcook it. Overcooked salmon is disgusting. When you flake it to see if it’s done, you want it to be still a bit dark pink in the middle. I’m not telling you to eat totally raw salmon, but if it’s all opaque and light pink throughout, it’s not going to be very good. So in the recipe, when you read “until opaque in the middle,” I just want you to feel like you can ignore that.
Poached Salmon (with Teriyaki)
Bring an inch and a half of water to boil in a pan. Add a lot of salt, and turn down the heat so it’s simmering. Add the salmon. Cover and simmer until done, 5 - 10 minutes. Remove salmon to a shallow bowl and pour teriyaki sauce over.
And the Teriyaki Sauce, which you should make now and just have in your fridge ready for any teriyaki opportunity that should present itself.
Combine 1 cup brown sugar (packed), 1 cup mirin (I had some yuzu rice vinegar in the cabinet from approximately eight million years ago, so I used that and it was fantastic), and 1 cup reduced-sodium soy sauce in a small saucepan. Simmer for 40 - 50 minutes, until slightly thickened. Apparently this will keep for a month in your fridge.
I have just posted a recipe for chicken and pineapple kebabs and declared my love of kebabs when I open the July issue of Bon Appetit to page 69 and read:
Kebabs get a bad rap.
No! Did you guys know this? I had no idea! We have to find out who is talking shit about kebabs and set them straight because kebabs are WONDERFUL.
On the masthead page of many magazines there’s a general question and then different staff members’ answers are displayed by their names. In the June 2013 issue of Bon Appetit, the question is “What summertime dessert do you look forward to?”
Let’s all guess who would be most insufferable as a coworker:
1. “Fresh blueberry pie topped with vanilla bean Haagen-Dazs.” Also known as: I could be a normal and pleasant coworker.
2. “Humphry Slocombe’s recipe for Elvis (The Fat Years) ice cream. I love it partly for the brown sugar-banana combo, partly for the name.” Also known as: I’m going to show up to your morning meeting hungover.
3. “Just-picked strawberries in late June from Wickham’s Fruit Farm on the North Fork of Long Island. Hit ‘em with a dollop of whipped cream…and welcome summer!” Also known as: Let me tell you about how I summer on Long Island.
4. “I love getting yogurt gelato and walking through Tre Fontane when I visit Sicily in the summer.” Also known as: Let me tell you about how I summer in Sicily.
So…I have been a touch critical of the new Bon Appetit tone* in the past, but the past few issues have been surprisingly good. There was a cooking school feature in January, I think, and then the dinner feature this month.
In fact, I was looking for poetry material the other day and found surprisingly little. Kudos, Bon Appetit!
* I would describe it as self-satisfied-Brooklyn-hipster-dad.
(shot by Gentl & Hyers, Bon Appétit, March 2013)
One Night In Phuket*
The addition of chile transports
the lime and coconut from the Copa-
cabana to someplace even more
the vodka couldn’t simpler,
and we love the edge
a little heat
brings to an otherwise sweet
July 2012, p. 22
* I would like it to be noted that I did not make up that title.
From today’s horoscope:
Someone you care about becomes feisty. Let that person be.
Subject line of email that I received this morning:
I’m still mad that Bon Appetit was promoting going gluten-free in last month’s issue.
Which, obviously, let to a number of emails on the subject of things that irritate us in Bon Appetit, including, but not limited to: Maldon sea salt, the new Brooklyn hipster dad tone, the “apres-ski dinner for eight with cool people” features, science-free health advice.
It seems like all of us have a story
about a late-night Waffle House
run or how we ended up
with a vintage cast-iron
from our kitchen Peg-Board.
February 2012, p. 10
No fried chicken should suffer
the indignity of a bulky overcoat
with padded shoulders.
The crust is where the men
and the boys
p. 86 - 87, February 2012
Part of a series in which I translate text from recent issues of Bon Appetit into small, self-important poems.
While the end
of a thin rolling pin
or the bowl end
of a wooden spoon will get the job done,
a handmade wooden muddler
separates the players
from the pretenders.
Part of a new series in which I translate text from recent issues of Bon Appetit into small, self-important poems.
Edible lichen that Nilsson gathers
from the surrounding forests during his daily walks
is put into that evening’s dishes
Nilsson hams it up
in a 100-year-old wolf pelt
belonging to Faviken’s former owner.
(September 2011, page 92)