Sweet and Spicy Nuts

I guess it must have been the recent Super Bowl and it's avalanche of party food suggestions that got me thinking. Seems there was no shortage of wings, with a world's tour of spices, sauces and crispy coatings. Our local supermarket even bumped aside half of the salad bar to make way for WingStavaganza. Pre-seasoned wings and delectable dips, microwave ready in five (count 'em 5) finger licking flavors. Chex Mix seemed to revive itself from holiday ashes, some with an Asian rice cracker twist, others sugared up with M&M's and chocolate covered raisins. Several chili cook-offs were rumored to have been thrown down. Why, even a football shaped cheese ball was passed across my inbox. I missed all of it.

Those of you among Big Mary's oh-so-intimate circle of friends, know of my emotional allergy to group gatherings (aka parties). Combine that with a determined lack of enthusiasm for football, and it's easy to see the natural progression to my Buffalo Wing deprivation. I come to my anti-social orientation genetically if not honestly as my father was determinedly a family act. Like a hibernating bear he was most content huddled in his den with wife and family within growling distance.

Not so Mama Magel, for whom "the larger the gathering - the better the party" seemed more her mantra. This obvious conflict of social energies proved an ongoing low level of frustration in their otherwise pitch perfect love affair. It's a conflict often stirred up between the Handsome Venezuelan and myself.

Unfazed by my father's reticence, my mother had what could genuinely be called an ace up her sleeve in the form of the very retro phenomenon known as The Bridge Club. Several times a month (in her heyday), Mama Magel enjoyed the company of 7 or more lady friends for an afternoon or occasional evening of neighborhood critiquing, woman banter and card playing. Looking back, it strikes me as a decidedly 40's through 60's sort of thing. Only ephemerally related to the recent enthusiasm for poker playing.

These bridge parties were society for my mother and her friends in Springfield, Ohio; though she did draw the line at attending bridge parties at "The Springfield Club", deeming them too snooty for her tastes. Nonetheless, even her home based parties warranted dressing up, dusting off the Noritake china cups, using the "good" playing cards, making a fancy lunch WITH dessert and purveying snacks that rose above the pretzel sticks and Goldfish crackers we were used to.

For Mama Magel a "fancy" lunch might be Chicken a La King in Pepperidge Farm Pastry Shells (decidedly hard to locate in 1960's Springfield), or a composed open faced sandwich with her famous 1000 Island Dressing. A typical dessert was often a Chocolate Refrigerator Cake or the achingly sweet Peach Cream Pie. But the snacks were a constant, Planter's mixed nuts and Brach's Bridge Mix.

What really was in that Bridge Mix? Wikepedia describes it as a type of candy that is an assortment of nuts, fruits, and cremes all covered in chocolate. Hmmm, my memory dishes up something a little less refined involving vaguely flavored fondants, tough little wads of coconut, and a not half-bad fruit gel all covered in a paraffin laced chocolaty coating. Ambrosia to young FatBoyEddie who was forbidden to touch even one piece until after Bridge Club. Happily the ladies never failed to leave mostly untouched candy dishes as they departed.

While Big Mary's taste buds have refined themselves since those youthful days, hopefully it is not to the level of the snooty dames at The Springfield Club. And though I may shrink from large social gatherings and Super Bowl parties in particular, I still look forward to delicious nibbles when gathering on a smaller scale. If Mama Magel were still dealing hands. bidding suits and taking tricks around the Bridge table, I'd have to send her a pound or two of these Sweet & Spicy Mixed Nuts

Sugar Spiced Nuts

1 large egg white
1 tablespoon water
1 pound raw nuts
2/3 cup superfine sugar
1 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
3/4 teaspoon ground ginger
3/4 teaspoon ground allspice
1/2 teaspoon ground coriander seed

Preheat oven to 250*.
In a medium bowl beat egg white with water until frothy. Toss in the nuts and mix well. Transfer nuts to a sieve and let drain for 2 minutes.
Meanwhile combine sugar, salt and spices. Put nuts and sugar mix into a bag and shake to coat the nuts well. Place on a baking sheet pan, distributing evenly and place in oven. Bake 15 minutes, toss nuts with a spatula and place back in oven. Lower temperature to 225* and bake for 1 hour more. Toss nuts occasionally as they finish baking.

Savory Spiced Nuts

1 large egg white
1 tablespoon water
1 pound raw nuts
1/3 cup superfine sugar
2 teaspoons salt
1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper
2 teaspoons ground cumin seed
1 teaspoons ground coriander seed

Preheat oven to 250*.
In a medium bowl beat egg white with water until frothy. Toss in the nuts and mix well. Transfer nuts to a sieve and let drain for 2 minutes.
Meanwhile combine sugar, salt and spices. Put nuts and sugar mix into a bag and shake to coat the nuts well. Place on a baking sheet pan, distributing evenly and place in oven. Bake 15 minutes, toss nuts with a spatula and place back in oven. Lower temperature to 225* and bake for 1 hour more. Toss nuts occasionally as they finish baking.

I can claim with a pure conscience that Big Mary's nuts have been held in high regard across all 5 boroughs on New York City. And now they are available to you whenever you desire them. HA!

To gild that nutty lily here's my recommendation. Use walnut halves (and macadamia nuts if your budget allows) when making the sweet version. And use natural whole almonds and pecan halves in the spicy version. Combine them in equal weights and put those out when the "girls" come over.

If you get them good and dry in the oven they'll last at room temperature in an air tight container for several weeks. Alternately you can freeze them. I've never seen them last long enough to worry. Finally, know that you can substitute regular granulated sugar for the superfine, but really don't we all strive to be superfine?

Happy snacking my cherubs!
And Contented Eating
Big Mary

All photos and copy Copyright 2011 Big Mary's Kitchen

Romesco Sauces - Classic Romescu & Poblano Green Romesco

I guess there should be no real surprise that the cuisines of Mexico and Spain should share quite a few in laws via the shotgun marriage of Cortez and Montezuma. The prevalence for pork was one influence, though there's the school of thought that this was more likely a trade off for the Spaniard's eliminating dog from the Mexican's menu. However, this shouldn't diminish the apparent easily developed Mexican appreciation of rice, olives, and citrus.

More likely is an influence toward Spain. Hard to envision Spanish cuisine without tomatoes, peppers, chocolate, and potatoes. All ingredients unheard of in Europe before Spain began the slow and steady annihilation of indigenous North, Central and South American people and their culture.

OK. That's heavy. Let's take two minutes to appreciate that in ensuing years Spain also brought us paella, El Greco, amontillado sherry, manchego, Ribiero del Duero wine, Picasso, saffron and Almodovar just to mention the top end credits.

Truth be told, the recipe I'm about to offer to you was not inspired by some trans-cultural understanding of food history, but rather by an abundance of poblano peppers in my 2nd favorite caterer's walk-in. And that, if fact is often the Mother of Invention when it comes to recipe development; the caterer's version of "necessity".

But as inspiration occasionally reflects on the divine, this is truly a fabulous version of a sauce that is already 4 stars. Before I get ahead of myself, we should talk among ourselves about Romesco Sauce.

I was first attracted to the Salsa Romescu legend years ago in a recipe by Penelope Casas, truly the first lady of Iberian Cuisine when it comes to the US. This was back in the mid 80's before tapas had entered the mainstream of party food. When small plates was a pejorative for nouvelle cuisine. I was researching Spanish food to assist in the catering for the Metropolitan Opera Club's Gala which that year was celebrating Spain as it's theme. Ms. Casas had managed to source an entire Jamon Serrano, then unheard of in the United States, as well as a variety of Spanish cheeses, dulce de membrillo, fig cakes, the list went on and on. Yet I was completely befuddled when attempting to find a resource for the dried peppers that her recipe deemed critical to the success of Salsa Romesco. Yes, this is how it was in those dark years before the Internet made the world our oestra.

Fast forward 10 years or so and find Big Mary in gustatory bliss, savoring the sesonal treat of Calcots a la Plancha con Salsa Romescu in a sunny Barcelona cafe. Grilled Calcots being a uniquely Spanish treat, something akin to a cross between scallions and leeks. A truly authentic repast would have found Big Mary in the fresh country air, surrounding an open fire, peeling back the burnt outer layers of these oniony treats, before dipping them in the oil rich Romescu and consuming them, head thrown back with the panache of a side show sword swallower. Paints a picture, no?

But the best part was that I finally had enjoyed this deeply satisfying Spanish classic sauce, and was heady with the confidence I could recreate it back in Brooklyn. That I did, and have continued to serve it with grilled vegetables, fish, chicken, etc. along with the rest of America as Spanish cuisine has thrust itself into the world cuisine stage and promptly established itself as the leader of most things innovative in the planet's dining rooms.

And so I offer you both versions of Romesco Sauce; a classic Salsa Romescu with an appreciative nod to Penelope Casas, and the previously mentioned Poblano Green Romesco Sauce.

Salsa Romescu

3/4 cup pure olive oil
1 1/2 cup sliced almonds
3 cloves fresh garlic, cracked
1 slice white bread, trimmed and cut into pieces - 3/4 oz
7 large red peppers
3 small canned whole tomatoes, seeded
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
2 tablespoons sherry wine vinegar
1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper
2 tablespoons Spanish pimenton (smoked paprika)or regular Spanish paprika

Roast red peppers over an open flame (or electric burner) until well charred on all sides. Place in a bowl and cover with plastic wrap. Allow to cool and then clean all of the burned skin from the peppers. Wipe clean. Remove seeds and discard. Set aside the cleaned peppers. You will need 1 quart approximately.
Heat the olive oil in a large skillet over moderate heat until shimmering. Add almonds, bread and garlic. Cook until bread just begins to turn golden. Immediately remove from heat. When bread cubes are completely golden, drain, reserving oil.
Place cleaned red peppers, bread cubes, garlic, almonds, tomatoes and salt in a blender. Add half of the reserved oil and the sherry vinegar and blend until smooth. Add cayenne and pimenton and blend. With the blender running on low, slowly add the remaining oil until the sauce is completely smooth. Check and adjust seasoning if necessary.

Poblano Green Romesco
The only caveat I offer is that poblano peppers are notoriously indiscriminate when it comes to heat. Often they are as mild as a bell pepper, but sometimes they swell to a jalapeno level of spiciness. You can check the heat level by running your finger across the white membrane on the interior of a pepper. Touch your finger to your tongue and you'll have a idea of the heat level you are dealing with. If the poblano approaches incendiary, substitute a portion of the poblanos with a regular green bell pepper, roasted and peeled.

8 large poblano peppers
3/4 cup pure olive oil
2 medium garlic cloves, peeled and cracked
1 slice white bread (3/4 ounce)crusts trimmed and cut into pieces
1/2 cup raw pumpkin seeds (pepitas)
1 tablespoon sherry wine vinegar
1 teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon fresh lime juice
1/2 cup fresh cilantro leaves, chopped

Roast poblano peppers over an open flame (or electric burner) until well charred on all sides. Place in a bowl and cover with plastic wrap. Allow to cool and then clean all of the burned skin from the peppers. Wipe clean. Remove seeds and discard. Set aside the cleaned peppers. You will need approximately 14 ounces.
Heat the olive oil in a large skillet over moderate heat until shimmering. Add bread and garlic. Cook 1 minute and then add pumpkin seeds. Cook until bread just begins to turn golden. Immediately remove from heat. When bread cubes are completely golden, drain, reserving oil.
Place cleaned peppers, bread cubes, garlic and pumpkin seeds in a blender. Add half of the reserved oil, salt and the sherry vinegar and blend until smooth. Slowly add the remaining oil with the motor running. Season with salt and pepper.
Add lime juice and cilantro right before serving.

So that's Danny Boy's inspired Green Romesco. Please remember this one when the weather sends us all back outdoors to grill some skirt steak. Or for those more tropical members of our family, head out to that hibachi immediately. Either way, this is great on chicken, fajitas, salmon, grilled vegetables... Hmmm just about everything it seems.

Contented Eating my Sweets,
Big Mary

Black Olive Tapenade and Mediterranean Daydreams

I don't mind the winter. Really, I don't. It's January, I enjoy having a little snow on the ground; at least the first day. But once it's grey and sloppy, it really is time for the snow to go. I mean have a little dignity. You look ... less than. Time to consider a rapid melt down.

And there is a definite beauty to the bare black limbs of trees against that blue winter sky that defines the shade sky blue. Inevitably it's at about this point of my revelry that the wind begins to pick up and sway those branches, waving them just enough against the background of white flossy clouds, to focus your soul on the two words that sucks the joy right out of Jack Frost. Wind Chill.

Not many options at this point except to pull the cap down tightly, readjust the scarf and head indoors to the solace of a freshly uncorked bottle of Montepulciano di Abruzzi, Bandol, Rioja or Cotes de Provence. There are the options of tea, hot cider or cafe con leche of course... but this is MY daydream and I'm headed south, and way east. As in France and her southern nether regions and neighbors.

Once unencumbered of scarf, earmuffs, hat, gloves, down coat, boots, sweater, flannel shirt, jeans, long sleeve undershirt, long johns and woolly socks ... I can slip into a short sleeve pastel shirt, linen trousers and sandals. I do live in a typically overheated NYC apartment after all. Next load the CD player with some Edith Piaf, Gypsy Kings and Charles Aznavour, or any other personal favorites. Gather together the selection of St. Felician, Comte and Fresh Chevre I so intuitively purchased yesterday and place it next to the warm baguette I strangely don't even remember buying. But this is my daydream.

So here I am. Perfectly positioned to travel through time and space to spend a warm afternoon on some nondescript locale somewhere between the Costa Brava and Portofino. And yet, fine as fragrant bread, fruity reds and perfectly ripe cheese can be, I needed something quintessentially European, something capable of slapping my sense memory backwards several lives or so, into a lifetime when I'm sure I roamed the planet warmed by a Mediterranean sun.

Ahhhhh. Tapenade. That's the ticket. An earthy, black-purple, oil rich, paste of in your face flavor. Ready to smear, slather and dip into those yeasty chunks of fresh bread. Now I'm nowhere near this snowy Brooklyn landscape.

Make some of this kids. Covered with a thin film of olive oil, it will keep refrigerated for weeks, should it last so long. Great on sandwiches, stuffed in a chicken breast, or schmeared on a crostini with a salad.

Black Olive Tapenade

This recipe makes a little more than a pint, and has been cut down from a larger "catering sized" recipe, so as always feel free to tweak ingredients up or down based on your own perfect palatte.

14 ounces kalamata olives, pitted
(or your own preferred type or mix of black olives)
3 tablespoons nonpareil capers, drained
3 anchovy fillets - top quality
1 1/2 teaspoons fresh thyme leaves, chopped
1 1/2 tablespoons Dijon mustard
1 1/2 tablespoons brandy
1 1/2 tablespoons roasted garlic cloves, mashed

Rinse olives in fresh water and drain well. Very roughly chop the olives to ensure no pits remain. Combine all ingredients in a food processor and process until smooth. Feel free to leave some chunky texture if you prefer. Pack in glass or plastic containers. Lightly cover with olive oil and let "cure" in the refrigerator for 24 hours if you can resist.

There's a treat for you my lovelies. Not much I suppose after so many months absent. But make a batch, call me and I'll bring a cheap and tasty bottle to share. Be seeing you soon.

Contented Eating,
Big Mary